9. Luca
Luca
The children have been asleep for nearly an hour when Maceo takes the plate from my hand before I can return it to the cabinet. He sets it on the counter, then leans one hip against the island and waits until I look at him.
“You told me the funding was manageable.”
“It is manageable.” I reach for the plate, but his palm stays over the rim. “Nicholas is working on alternatives. We still have enough to keep the current expansion work moving.”
“Nicholas showed me the structure he’s building because I’m reviewing the donor-control provisions. He would not be rebuilding the entire funding model if Ember House only needed a few replacement checks.” Maceo keeps his voice even as he asks, “How much of the expansion is actually funded?”
“Enough to keep working while he looks for other sources.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
I turn away from him and begin wiping a counter Grayson already cleaned after dinner. The cloth passes over the same patch twice before Maceo takes it from me and sets it beside the sink.
Luther enters with two empty water glasses from upstairs and places them beside the dishwasher without interrupting.
Grayson follows a moment later, carrying the tablet Rosalie talked him into letting her use before bed, and Blake comes in behind him with his cane tapping once against the threshold.
None of them looks surprised to find Maceo standing across from me.
The realization arrives quietly. Luther has seen the donor channels narrow.
Grayson has watched me close emails when he enters the room.
Maceo knows Nicholas would not be constructing an entirely new funding model unless the old one had become unstable.
Maceo has seen enough of the proposed safeguards to understand exactly what kind of money is circling Ember House.
“I have not lost the existing house,” I say. “Payroll is covered. The residents are safe. The unfinished rooms can wait.”
Grayson places Rosalie’s tablet on the table. “You close the contractor estimates whenever someone comes near you, and you stopped opening donor messages at home.”
“The estimates change every week.”
“The way you react to them doesn’t.”
Blake lowers himself into the chair nearest the end of the table. “Nicholas would not be spending this much time dividing the funding across multiple sources unless one donor leaving could take the expansion down with it.”
I look toward Maceo, but his expression has not softened. He doesn't accuse me of lying or ask why I kept the numbers from them. He only asks the question I have avoided answering in my own office.
“Have you considered accepting money from someone you don't trust because it would finish the intake rooms?”
I sit at the table and turn my phone facedown beside my elbow. The unopened messages remain hidden, but I know the wording of every offer waiting behind the dark screen.
“One foundation offered enough to complete two rooms,” I say. “They wanted a permanent board seat, quarterly resident statistics, and approval rights over any legal advocacy Ember House funds.”
No one interrupts me. Luther takes the chair across from mine while Grayson remains near the counter. Blake watches me from the other end of the table, and Maceo sits beside me without reaching for the phone or asking to see the draft.
“I wrote a counteroffer that removed the resident access and narrowed the approval rights, but I left the board seat in place. I never sent it.” My thumb presses against the edge of my phone.
“I kept looking at the number because two finished rooms would mean two people I would not have to turn away.”
The last word catches in my throat. I draw a breath before continuing.
“The expansion may collapse before it opens. We can protect everyone already inside Ember House, but we cannot keep accepting people at the rate they are calling. Omegas referred by residents we have already helped are asking whether there is a mattress, a couch, anything behind a locked door, and I keep telling them we are full.”
Blake’s chair shifts, but he doesn't speak over me.
“After his collapse, Victor and Dorian started circling before we were even sure Blake would come home, and the recovery afterward took everything the house had. I could not bring another emergency into the middle of that without knowing how to solve it first.”
Blake’s jaw tightens, but he doesn't turn the confession into an argument about his health. Luther doesn't tell me that I should have trusted them sooner, and Grayson doesn't start promising that construction will continue. They leave the decision where it belongs.
Maceo draws my phone farther from the edge of the table so it cannot fall.
“I can write donor restrictions that survive changes in the board. No access to resident records, no authority over intake decisions, and no control over legal advocacy. I need Nicholas’ proposed structure and Blossom’s charter draft before I can tell you what else is possible. ”
“Nicholas will continue building the diversified model,” Blake says. “Several smaller sources, none large enough to threaten the house by leaving or demand control by staying. It may take longer than accepting one large check.”
“Then the schedule changes,” Luther says. “The decision still belongs to Luca and the Ember House board. We are offering options, not choosing for them.”
Grayson leaves the kitchen and returns with the portfolio I have seen him carry upstairs several times. He places it in front of me and opens it carefully, revealing pages of room layouts and interior studies rather than the contractor drawings I expected.
The expansion footprint is familiar, but the inside has changed.
The hall outside the common room widens gradually instead of ending in a narrow bottleneck.
The private suites have several possible furniture arrangements.
Each sitting area keeps the nearest door visible without forcing the person inside to face it directly.
“These aren’t final construction drawings,” Grayson says. “They’re options. Blake and I started a planning system so residents can choose the lighting, furniture placement, and how open or enclosed they want the room to feel before anything is built.”
I turn to the library page. A deep window seat fills one corner, wide enough to hold a small nest while remaining part of the shared room.
“You added this.”
“I thought someone might want company without having to sit in the middle of everyone.”
Blake slides the page containing the planning tool closer to me. “The residents make the choices. We only give them a way to see the options before the contractors commit to anything.”
The drawings don't finish the walls or replace the donors who walked away. They don't reduce the number of people waiting for a call from me. Still, the expansion begins to resemble Ember House again instead of a series of unpaid invoices and rooms I am failing to complete.
Luther rests his forearms on the table. “Sharing the fear doesn't surrender your authority. Ember House is still yours to lead. We are offering support, not replacing you.”
I look from the drawings to Maceo. “Blossom and I will give you the charter draft in the morning. Nicholas can walk us through the funding structure, and no one answers that foundation until we understand every condition attached to its money.”
Maceo nods. “That gives me something I can protect.”
The conversation moves into practical details after that: Nicholas’ availability, which contractor estimates need updating, and whether Blossom should invite another resident representative into the funding discussion.
The crisis remains exactly what it was before we sat down, but it is no longer sealed inside my office with the messages I refuse to open at home.
Grayson gathers Rosalie’s tablet and the portfolio while Luther clears the remaining glasses. “The children are staying in our room tonight,” Grayson says. “They built a blanket wall between Luther’s side and theirs, and Rosalie has already declared the other half neutral territory.”
Luther looks toward Blake and Maceo. “We can manage any interruptions.”
Blake understands first. His mouth curves as Grayson bends to kiss him, and Blake catches the back of his neck to keep him there for another moment. When Grayson straightens, Luther steps behind Maceo and works both hands over his shoulders before pressing a kiss below his ear.
“Stay with them tonight,” Luther says.
Maceo reaches for my hand before I can offer it. His fingers close around mine as Blake rises from the table, and the three of us leave the kitchen together.
By the time the bedroom door closes, Blake is seated against the headboard and Maceo is placing three glasses of water on the nightstand.
I climb onto the bed and kiss Blake before either man can speak.
His hand closes around the back of my neck while I settle across his lap, and I stay there until the tension around his mouth loosens beneath mine.
When I lift my head, Maceo is already beside us, reaching to undo Blake’s cuffs. I catch the front of his shirt and pull him down onto the mattress so his thigh presses against mine.
“Come closer.”
He does. Blake turns toward him and catches his wrist before Maceo can begin another assessment.
“Ask me what you need to know once,” Blake says. “After that, touch me because you want me.”
Maceo studies his face. “Anything hurting or difficult?”
“No.”
Blake releases his wrist and draws him in for a kiss.
Maceo kisses him back without another question and I press in until there’s no space left between the three of us, my chest against Blake’s, my hand sliding up Maceo’s back under his shirt.
My scent floods the room as my body responds, slick already starting to gather between my thighs.