40. Cece
Cece
For the past few days, getting sleep has been difficult.
I keep waking up from weird dreams. Some are just strange; others feel like full-on nightmares.
By the time I settle down enough to fall back asleep, my alarm is already going off.
I’m not sure if it’s stress, missing Luc, or something to do with whatever’s happening with my abilities. Probably all three.
I head into the kitchen, still groggy, and see Xan already up. He’s pouring himself coffee and pulling out a second mug for me.
“You’re a godsend,” I mutter, eyeing the caffeine like it’s the only thing keeping me upright.
“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” he says with a smirk.
I make an exaggerated grimace. “Spare me the details, Xan.”
He laughs, stirring creamer into my mug. “Sleep well?”
“Not at all,” I say, taking the coffee and sinking into a chair. “The dreams are getting worse. Really freaking weird.”
He watches me for a second, then raises a brow. “Thoughts of vampires, goblins, and ghouls? Halloween party creeping into your subconscious?”
“Hilarious,” I say flatly. “I’m not going. I don’t even want to.”
He nods, but there’s a look in his eye. “Your not-boss seems pretty eager to have you there. You sure you’re not going?”
I give him a look that says, drop it.
He raises his hands as if backing off. “Okay, okay. Look, Luc’s like a brother to me.
Chosen family, not just a battlefield thing.
I’m always going to have his back. But I care about you a lot too, and honestly, you and him?
You’re great together. He just went back to Pomerium, and if I know Luc, he’s probably already planning how to take care of everything there and make his way back to you.
He’s head over heels. So if things are shaky on your end—”
“Xan,” I interrupt, setting my mug down.
“Luc and I are solid. I’m aware of Daniel’s interest; I’m not clueless.
But that’s not what I want. He’s not who I want.
Yeah, I’m being careful, because . . . this is my job.
And I’ve worked hard to get this far. But when it comes to me and Luc? It’s us. Him and me. No one else.”
He studies me for a long moment before giving a slow nod. “Alright. Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” Then he grins, letting the tension ease. “Well, now that the awkward heart-to-hearts are out of the way . . . bacon and eggs?” he says, waggling his brows.
I can’t help it. I laugh. “Yes, please!”
I walk into the conference room, laptop under my arm, and slide into a seat near the end of the table.
A few members of the team are already here, murmuring to each other or quietly checking emails.
Corinne’s at the front, polished as always, and when she glances my way, she gives me a small, knowing smile.
I return it, a little uneasy, though I’m not sure why.
The door clicks shut behind me. I glance over my shoulder just as Daniel walks in, moving with the confidence that seems to follow him everywhere. He takes the seat beside Corinne, right up at the front.
Corinne launches into her updates: high-level departmental goals, then a breakdown by project. I half-listen, tapping my fingers lightly on the edge of my laptop. When she hands it over to Daniel to cover his area, I straighten up.
He dives in, reviewing progress, recent wins, and next steps. Then he says it.
“I want to give a special thanks to Chloe for all her hard work on the St. Alban’s University Hospital collaboration.
As you can see, we’re making significant progress, meeting our objectives, and running within budget.
That’s why she will take point on the project, and I’ll be there to help guide her.
I know she’ll do a wonderful job as lead of this collaboration. ”
Come again?
My heart skips. Did I hear that right?
Eyes swivel toward me. I feel them, every single one, landing on my face. There’s a pause in the room, just long enough to make my pulse spike. Lead? That’s not something we talked about. At all.
My throat tightens, but I force a smile.
“What a surprise,” I say, hoping it sounds more poised than it feels.
“Thank you, Daniel and Corinne. This project has been an incredible experience, and Daniel’s been a wonderful lead to learn from.
” My voice wobbles a little. “I’m excited to take this responsibility on. ”
The moment my eyes sweep the table, regret crashes in.
There are a few polite smiles, but most faces are unreadable, some surprised, some confused.
I know what they’re probably thinking. Already?
I haven’t been here that long. Definitely not long enough to be leading something like this, not without ruffling feathers.
I glance toward Daniel. He’s watching me. He smiles, mouthing congrats. I smile back and return a thank you, but inside, the unease builds.
A question nags at me. Is this truly about my work?
Or does this have to do with the way he’s been looking at me lately?
The way he lingers when we talk. How he always seems to “happen” to bump into me in the break room.
Is this a reward, or something else? And if I am lead now, does that mean more one-on-one time with him?
My stomach turns. I should be thrilled. This is a career boost. A big one. But all I can think about are the looks I saw around the table and the question that keeps creeping in. Did I actually earn this? Or does everyone think I didn’t?
Corinne’s voice cuts back in, moving on to the next section, technology initiatives. The room refocuses; conversation shifts. But I can’t. Not yet. I just keep staring at my screen, trying to ignore the knot forming in my gut.
Later that afternoon, I make my way to my one-on-one with Daniel.
He’s still on a call when I reach his office, but the moment he notices me lingering by the door, he gives a quick wave to come in.
I slip inside, moving cautiously, as if stepping into something I haven’t quite figured out yet.
I take a seat across from his desk just as he removes his headset and ends the call.
“So, congratulations are in order,” he says, grinning. “I’m happy for you, Cece. You’ve earned this, and I know you’re going to be amazing leading this project. But selfishly . . .” he lets out a laugh, “ . . . I also love that it frees me up to take on another project I’ve been eyeing.”
His tone is light, his eyes warm. Friendly, yet still professional. Okay. Huh. Maybe this isn’t about anything personal. Perhaps I’ve been overthinking it, reading into the glances, the smiles, the moments that felt like more than just mentorship. Maybe this was always just about the work.
Relief rushes over me.
“Thanks for all your guidance on this,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “I won’t let you down.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll do a great job,” he says, voice sure. “I wouldn’t have brought this up with Corinne if I didn’t believe you were more than capable.”
He gives me a look that’s genuine, and I think that softens some of the tension I didn’t realize I was carrying. My shoulders ease a bit. Maybe I do belong in this seat.
“Remember when I mentioned those other projects I’ve been involved in?” His gaze meets mine.
“Right, yes, I remember. Is there something that needs operational support?” A feeling of excitement comes over me. It would be incredible to have another project of my own.
Something flashes behind his eyes that I can’t make out.
“Something like that,” he responds, his head tilting as if trying to determine if that fits.
“I’m looking forward to you getting up to speed and getting involved.
We’ll talk more about how you can help soon. I just wanted to put it on your radar.”
I smile. “Sounds good, thanks so much.”
He gives me an appreciative look before pulling up his notes on the St. Alban’s collaboration.
We dive into the project handoff: next steps, timelines, a few known issues we’ll need to monitor. Just work. Straightforward. Still, as we talk, a small part of me wonders, if it wasn’t about anything personal, why do I feel a little . . . strange?
I push the thought aside. This is a win. I’m leading now. I need to own it. So I take notes, ask the right questions, and try to stay focused on the job I’m being trusted to lead.
Ever since Luc left, the nights have felt like a fixed point in time. Everything before and after is marked by his absence. The days seem oddly longer now, as if time has stretched just to give me more hours to miss him. Even the quiet feels heavier.
I’m at the sink doing dishes, trying to distract myself, when my phone lights up. It’s Kate.
We’re too young to be spending Friday nights cooped up at home, she writes.
As much as my introverted self loves a quiet weekend in, I can’t deny it—I want to get out tonight.
The silence has been getting under my skin more than usual.
I slide the last plate into the dishwasher, wipe my hands on a towel, and text her back: Give me thirty minutes.
The decision settles in easily, almost like relief.
“Xan! We’re going out tonight—get yourself ready!” I call out, my voice carrying through the apartment. Then I head to my room to pull myself together.
By the time Xan and I arrive at Axis, the place is already buzzing—music low but pulsing, voices overlapping like static. Kate spots us and waves us over to her table, cocktail in hand, mid-conversation with someone who looks like the manager. He walks off just as we approach.
“It’s bestie . . . and bodyguard Xan,” she says, hugging me tight with one arm and throwing a playful wink toward Xan. Xan just laughs and pulls her in for a hug, kissing her cheek like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Well then.
“I’m so glad you came out!” she says to me, excited. I glance at Xan, remembering it took a solid fifteen minutes of convincing to get him to agree to this.
“Ladies, I’m good with it,” he says, already expecting our looks. “But just no going to places where I can’t see you.”
Kate raises an eyebrow. “Umm, what about the ladies’ room? You following us in there, too?”
“Honey, I have no problem following you into the ladies’ room,” he shoots back with a wink.
Oh jeez.
She laughs, brushing it off, but I catch the slight flush in her cheeks. I slide into the seat next to her while Xan heads over to the bar to grab us drinks.
“So,” I say, lowering my voice, “how are things going with Ethan?”
Her smile falters. “Not great. But nothing’s changed either. I asked him to talk, so we’re meeting up on Sunday.”
Ugh. I know what that limbo feels like.
“Any news from Luc?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Interdimensional cellphones are, surprisingly, not a thing,” I say, forcing a light tone. “And we thought people from another world would be so much more high-tech than us.”
She smiles, but she sees through me, of course. It still hurts not hearing from him, even if I pretend it doesn’t. Kate picks up on the moment and shifts the topic effortlessly.
“So, is Xan good with being the permanent third wheel on all our future adventures?” Kate asks, glancing casually toward the bar where he’s waiting on drinks. Her smile lingers a little too long as her eyes follow him.
I raise an eyebrow and give her a knowing look, the kind that says, Don’t even try to play it cool. I see you.
She catches it and immediately rolls her eyes. “There’s nothing going on,” she says a little too fast.
“Sure,” I say, smirking. “But yeah, he seems fine with it.”
Kate exhales, then shrugs. “I mean, damn,” she says, gesturing toward him with a sweep of her hand. “He is beautiful to look at.”
I laugh because it’s good to hear her say something audacious again. It’s been a while since her spark came through like that.
A moment later, Xan returns with drinks in hand, sliding them onto the table as he looks at both of us, instantly sensing the shift in energy.
“Were you ladies talking about me?”
“No.”
“Yes,” Kate answers at the same time.
We all burst out laughing, and for a second, everything just clicks into place. The three of us—our energy, our banter—it’s easy and unforced. And in a way, it feels like a lifeline. Something solid, while everything else still feels so up in the air.
The night carries us from one joke to the next, and before long, we’re pulled onto the dance floor.
Several songs and two drinks later, I finally need a breather. The music’s still pulsing, but my head’s spinning just enough to remind me I’m not invincible.
“I’m heading to the ladies’ room,” I tell Kate and Xan over the music. Kate offers to come with me in a classic move, but I wave her off with a small laugh. “I’m good. It’s right there.”
Xan gives me a look, half skeptical, half protective, and starts to insist on walking me over. I shake my head, making it clear that I’ll be fine. After a moment, he finally agrees with a reluctant nod. I flash him a reassuring smile and head off.
The restroom is just around the corner. I take care of business, splash a little cold water on my face, and head back out, deciding to swing by the bar on the way to grab a glass of water.
I’ve just rounded the corner when a hand clamps around my arm and yanks me into the shadows.
The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, and I gasp, a sharp, panicked sound as my back hits the wall. My vision jolts, spots sparking at the edges. Instinct takes over. I twist, mouth opening to scream, but before the sound escapes, the stranger spins me to face him.
My heart lodges in my throat, pounding so hard it hurts. My hands have gone cold, trembling despite how tightly I try to clench them.
“I’m not here to hurt you, Chloe,” the man says quickly, voice low but urgent. “I just need to talk to you. About who you are, and how to protect yourself from what’s coming.”
My blood turns to ice. I stumble back a step, knees threatening to give out, pulse hammering in my ears. “How do you know me? What do you mean, who I am?”
“I’m going to let you go,” he says, loosening his grip inch by inch. “Please don’t run. I promise I mean you no harm. This is important. I want to help you.”
I stay rooted to the spot, my muscles coiled and ready to bolt, but my glare stays fixed on him. “You didn’t answer me. Who are you?”
He hesitates, then looks me straight in the eyes.
That’s when I see them.
Hazel, flecked with gold, wrapped in a sharp, unnatural green ring.
My stomach plummets. Because I know those eyes. I’ve seen them in every mirror I’ve ever looked into.
They’re mine.
Cold washes through me in a single, crushing sweep. I freeze, my breath caught in my throat, the room feeling as if it’s shrinking and sharpening all at once.
No. No. Absolutely not. This can’t be real.
My pulse roars in my ears, just as his voice slices through the chaos.
“I’m your father, Chloe.”