💬 A Quick Note
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Morning is gray, damp, and biting.
I close the door to our apartment with deliberate slowness. I left Liam asleep, still exhausted from the hours he spent at the studio.
Before leaving, I took a moment to look at our living room.
Clean mugs. Pale light falling over our wedding invitations. Everything is still here. I refuse to let Kaelen get this far inside.
I walk down the stairs. The icy street air hits my face, but it can’t chase away the presence that seems to have lodged itself beneath my skin since last night.
I walk quickly, hands buried in my coat pockets.
Mason’s Coffee is four blocks away. A quiet, discreet café where people come to unwind, not to talk about ghosts returning from London.
And yet.
I push open the heavy oak door.
A bell chimes softly over my head.
Arthur is already there.
My father occupies the booth at the back, sitting on worn leather in the blind corner with his back against the exposed brick wall. From there he has a direct view of the entrance. The habit is set into his bones. You never really leave the police. You just learn to wear civilian clothes.
At fifty-five, he still has the same imposing build, neatly cut gray hair, and piercing green eyes exactly like mine. He became a private investigator so he could keep chasing the truth, but I know he mostly uses the job as an excuse to keep watch over me.
He sees me come in.
His gaze scans my rigid posture, the dark circles I tried to hide with concealer, the way I’m gripping my scarf.
He looks at me for barely two seconds.
It’s enough.
I’ve never been able to lie to him for long.
I walk over and slide onto the seat opposite him.
« Morning, Dad. »
He doesn’t smile. He pushes a steaming cup of black tea toward me.
« You look terrible. »
« Always a delight to see you. I’ve missed your legendary tact. »
One corner of his mouth twitches, but the concern etched into his face doesn’t move.
« I’m a detective, Harper, not a psychologist. You didn’t sleep. »
I wrap my cold fingers around the hot porcelain.
« Liam was working on a difficult commission. It kept me awake. »
The lie comes smoothly. I’ve had practice since leaving London. But in front of Arthur Vale—former cop, overprotective father, and a man who sees far too much—pretenses don’t survive for long.
He folds his broad arms across his chest.
« That’s not the tiredness of a woman in love waiting up for her painter. That’s exhaustion. You’re raw. »
My hand stills.
The irony disappears from my mouth.
« He’s back. »
Arthur’s statement lands in the dim booth. Dry. Absolute.
My stomach knots. I set the cup down with a sharp clink against the saucer, cutting through the café’s low hum.
« How do you know? »
« Because I never stopped watching him. »
Shock steals my breath. I stare at him.
« You kept tabs on him? For three years? »
« I’m your father. I know the man who built a cage around you. Did you honestly think I’d fold my arms and hope a London mafia boss would miraculously forget the one weakness he could never let go of? Especially when that weakness is my daughter? »
His jaw tightens.
« I kept a few contacts. Old colleagues, two informants in London, people who could warn me when Cross’s name started turning up in the wrong conversations again. I wanted to know if he ever started looking north. »
I swallow hard.
Suddenly there isn’t enough air.
« He found me last night. At Chloe’s bar. »
« What did he say? »
« That he never stopped looking for me. That he wants answers about what I feel. »
My voice catches for a second.
« He knows my address. Liam’s name. And last night he texted me from two different numbers. »
I pull out my phone without unlocking it.
« I kept a screenshot. »
Arthur says nothing. His eyes drop to the phone and return to me, darker now.
« Show me later. »
I nod.
« He didn’t do anything illegal yesterday. He stayed calm. Ice-cold, like always. I told him to leave. »
Arthur exhales heavily, almost in frustration. He leans forward, resting his thick forearms on the wooden table.
« Kaelen never comes alone. Even when he walks into a room by himself, his whole world comes with him. »
The sentence lands with brutal clarity. It paints the outline of a threat I can’t see but can already feel pressing in from every side.
« His world is in London. Mine is here. I spent three years making sure those lives never touched again. »
« His world has grown. In three years, Kaelen has changed, Harper. More men. More money. More territory. And the more space a man like him takes up, the more people want to see him fall. »
He looks straight into my eyes. No condescension. Just facts.
« It isn’t only his men who can follow you. His enemies can too. They’ll learn your schedule, your routes, your habits. They’ll find out where you live, who you love, what you protect. »
The cold from outside seems to seep into my veins.
« They don’t care about me, Arthur. I work in network security. I live with an artist. I’m planning my wedding. I’m not part of that world anymore. »
« Exactly. To them, you’re not a criminal. You’re not a rival. You’re worse. »
He pauses.
« You’re Kaelen Cross’s weakness. And in their world, weaknesses get watched. Threatened. Taken, if that’s what it takes to drag a man out of the shadows. »
Liam flashes through my mind.
His smile in the darkness of our bedroom. His paint-stained hands. His invitation murmured against my forehead.
One o’clock.
I’m supposed to meet him at the studio.
Lunch. Nothing more. Yesterday, it felt normal. Now it feels like I’ve arranged to meet Liam in the middle of a firing line.
I straighten my shoulders.
Survival instinct pushes the fear aside.
« I won’t let them. I know how to spot surveillance. I know how to get around electronic locks and wipe my digital trail. I’m not going to live in fear because of Kaelen. »
I lift my chin and meet my father’s eyes with fierce determination.
« I’m not the woman who ran from London anymore. »
He studies my confidence. He respects my strength. He also sees exactly where it becomes dangerous.
« Then don’t make the same mistake by thinking you have to carry everything alone. »
He points a stern finger at me.
« Have you told Liam? »
The question lands exactly where I’m most vulnerable.
I turn toward the rain streaking down the café window.
« No. »
« Harper. »
« No, listen to me. »
I lean forward, defending my sanctuary with everything I have.
« Liam has nothing to do with this. His world is canvases, exhibitions, cold coffee, and hands covered in paint. He knows nothing about Kaelen’s violence, guns, mafia retaliation. If I tell him London organized crime has just walked into our living room, our peace is gone. I want to protect it. »
« And you think silence will protect him? »
The disapproval in his voice is heavy.
« Liam isn’t weak. He’ll see you’re tense. He’ll feel the shadow circling the two of you. »
« I have it under control. If I don’t give Kaelen anything, if I push him away hard enough, he’ll eventually understand he’s lost and go back. I’m not sacrificing my future husband’s peace. »
Arthur doesn’t blink.
« You still think this depends on what you show him. But Kaelen found you, Harper. He came all the way here. He’s already decided you still matter. »
My father watches me in silence for a long moment.
« And in his world, when a man like him cares about someone, that person becomes a target. »
He can still see the stubborn little girl I used to be.
But he also sees the woman desperately trying to protect the small amount of happiness she’s managed to build.
He reaches across the table and gently covers my hand with his. His thumb brushes my knuckles the way it did when I was little and pretending I wasn’t scared.
His face hardens, not from cruelty, but because he knows too well what can happen.
We have the same eyes.
The same stubbornness.
The difference is that he’s already seen what I’m still refusing to look at.
And now… Liam or Kaelen? Who are you more intrigued by so far? 👀🖤
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