The Silence After War Is Loud
Paris didn't quiet after the call.
It sharpened.
Amaiyla sat on the edge of the bed, phone still clutched in her hand long after the screen had gone dark. Her father's voice echoed in her skull—measured, calm, lethal.
If you stay, Connor loses everything.
She pressed her fingers to her temples as if she could physically block the thought.
Xander stood a few feet away, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled to his elbows, pacing the length of the room like a caged predator. He hadn't spoken since the call ended. That scared her more than his anger ever could.
Tammy lingered near the doorway, quiet now, watchful. She wasn't intruding. She was assessing damage.
Finally, Amaiyla whispered, "He meant it."
"Yes," Xander said immediately. "That's why he said it."
Her voice cracked. "You didn't even hesitate."
Xander stopped pacing and turned to her. "Because hesitation is what he feeds on."
Tammy stepped forward. "Your father just forced a false binary," she said calmly. "You or Connor. That's the trap."
Amaiyla looked up at her, eyes glassy. "Then what's the way out?"
Tammy didn't answer right away.
Xander did.
"There isn't one yet."
Amaiyla let out a hollow laugh. "Of course there isn't."
Xander crossed the room and knelt in front of her, bringing himself to eye level. His voice softened, but the steel remained.
"Listen to me. He expects you to panic. To retreat. To sacrifice yourself quietly."
She shook her head. "I can't let Connor burn for this."
"You won't," Xander said firmly.
Tammy raised an eyebrow. "That's a promise you can't guarantee."
Xander didn't look at her. "Watch me."
Amaiyla searched his face. "You're not invincible."
"No," he admitted. "But I'm not alone either."
Her heart twisted painfully at that.
Tammy's Game Tightens
Tammy moved closer, lowering her voice.
"There's something else you should know," she said to Amaiyla.
Xander stiffened slightly. "If this is about John—"
"It is," Tammy interrupted. "But not the way you think."
Amaiyla's chest tightened. "What are you not telling me?"
Tammy met her gaze steadily. "Your father didn't just leak the engagement to provoke Connor."
Amaiyla swallowed. "Then why?"
"To see how Xander would respond."
Xander's jaw tightened.
Amaiyla's breath caught. "You were the variable."
Tammy nodded. "John needed to confirm whether Xander would prioritize optics or people."
Amaiyla looked between them. "And?"
Tammy's lips curved faintly. "He chose people."
Xander exhaled sharply. "Don't frame that like approval."
"Oh, it isn't," Tammy replied. "It's information. And John collects it obsessively."
Amaiyla's hands curled into the sheets. "So what happens now?"
Tammy tilted her head. "Now your father escalates privately."
Xander added, "And publicly pretends nothing is wrong."
Amaiyla whispered, "Connor's meeting him."
Both Tammy and Xander turned sharply.
"How do you know that?" Tammy asked.
Amaiyla lifted her phone. "Because Connor just texted me."
She read it aloud, voice trembling.
He wants to talk. I won't let him control me anymore. I promise.
Xander's expression darkened. "That promise will cost him."
Amaiyla stood abruptly. "I won't let this happen."
Xander caught her wrist gently but firmly. "You can't storm into this."
"Watch me," she snapped.
Tammy stepped in smoothly. "If you interfere now, you become the weapon John uses against him."
Amaiyla froze.
"That's how men like your father operate," Tammy continued. "They provoke emotional responses because emotion is predictable."
Amaiyla's voice shook. "So what am I supposed to do? Sit here while he destroys someone I love?"
The word love hung in the air.
Xander didn't react outwardly—but something inside him shifted.
Tammy watched carefully. "You're supposed to survive long enough to change the board."
Amaiyla laughed bitterly. "You make it sound so clean."
Tammy's gaze softened just a fraction. "It's not clean. It's necessary."
Desire Is Not Convenient
Night fell slowly.
The estate grew quiet in the way only expensive isolation could be. Amaiyla stood on the balcony alone, arms wrapped tightly around herself, Paris glittering in the distance like a world she wasn't allowed to touch.
She didn't hear Xander approach until his presence filled the space behind her.
"You're cold," he said quietly.
"I'm fine."
He didn't argue. He simply draped his jacket over her shoulders anyway.
She closed her eyes. "You don't have to keep saving me."
"I know."
She turned to face him. "Then why do you?"
Xander hesitated.
Just a beat too long.
"Because," he said carefully, "if I don't, they win."
Her voice was soft. "That's not the only reason."
Xander met her gaze. His expression was controlled, but his eyes were anything but.
"This is a terrible time to ask me to be honest," he said.
Amaiyla swallowed. "I'm not asking."
Silence stretched.
He stepped closer, not touching her yet, but close enough that she could feel the heat of him.
"I don't want to want you," he said quietly. "It complicates everything."
Her breath hitched. "Then stop."
His jaw tightened. "I can't."
The admission landed like a blow.
Amaiyla whispered, "Connor—"
"I know," Xander said immediately. "I know."
His hand hovered near her waist, not touching, trembling slightly.
"That's the problem," he continued. "I'm supposed to be control. Precision. Distance."
"And instead?" she whispered.
"And instead," he said, voice low and strained, "I wake up knowing exactly how your breathing changes before you speak."
Her heart pounded painfully. "Xander…"
"This doesn't get easier," he warned. "It gets worse."
She laughed softly, tears in her eyes. "Everything already is."
His hand finally settled on her waist.
Just that.
Nothing more.
But it felt like crossing a line.
"You don't get to fall apart," he murmured. "Not yet."
She leaned into him despite herself. "I already have."
Xander closed his eyes briefly, jaw clenched, as if steadying himself.
"I will not be another man who takes something from you," he said fiercely. "Not like this."
Her voice shook. "Then what are we doing?"
He exhaled slowly. "Standing still. Together."
Connor Makes His Choice
Connor sat across from John Hollingsworth in a private London dining room that smelled of polished wood and old power.
John didn't smile.
Connor didn't sit.
"You leaked it," Connor said flatly.
John folded his hands. "I confirmed it."
"You destroyed my life," Connor snapped.
John tilted his head. "No. I exposed its fragility."
Connor laughed harshly. "You think this makes her choose you?"
John's gaze sharpened. "It already has."
Connor's fists clenched. "You're wrong."
John leaned back. "Are you prepared to lose everything for her?"
Connor hesitated.
John noticed.
"That's what I thought," John said softly. "You love her. But you won't burn for her."
Connor swallowed hard.
John continued calmly, "Xander will."
Connor's blood ran cold.
The Line Is Drawn
Back in Paris, Amaiyla lay awake beside Xander.
They didn't touch.
They didn't speak.
But the space between them felt louder than any argument.
"You're still here," she whispered into the dark.
"Yes."
"You could leave."
"I won't."
Her voice trembled. "Why?"
Xander stared at the ceiling. "Because staying is the only move left that scares them."
She turned toward him. "And you?"
He met her gaze in the darkness.
"It terrifies me too."
Outside, Paris kept breathing.
Inside, two people lay awake knowing the same truth:
Nothing would ever be simple again.
And walking away was no longer an option.