The air inside the luxury car was unusually heavy despite the soft hum of the engine and the sunlight pouring in through the tinted windows. Erin sat beside Lillianne in the backseat, her spine straight, eyes pinned on the road ahead. Xander sat on Lillianne's other side, looking bored but not saying anything as the vehicle curved through the familiar upper blocks of the city.
"So," Lillianne began cheerily, her voice laced with too much enthusiasm, "this is the place I was telling you about. The reviews said their pastries are to die for, and I mean… who doesn't like sweets?"
Xander gave a noncommittal grunt.
Erin's gaze flicked sideways. Sugar & Thorn. Her heart gave a single, jarring lurch.
Of all the places…
"Have you been here before, Erin?" Lillianne asked, eyes gleaming like she already knew the answer.
Erin forced her lips into a calm smile. "It's a popular shop. Anyone who's lived in the city long enough knows it."
She wasn't going to give Lillianne the satisfaction of reacting.
The car pulled up to the bakery's curb. From the outside, Sugar & Thorn looked like the perfect dream. Large windows framed by white-painted wood and lace curtains, blooming flowers trailing from hanging pots, and a pink-and-cream sign that read "Homemade with Heart." It looked innocent. Warm. Inviting.
But today, it was a landmine.
Erin stepped out of the car last, her heart thudding in her ears. Lillianne immediately latched onto Xander's arm, wrapping herself against his side like a silk scarf. "Let's sit at the window," she chirped. "That way we can enjoy the sun and the view."
Xander didn't object.
Erin said nothing as she followed them into the bakery. The place smelled like her childhood—fresh vanilla, cinnamon, orange zest. The warmth of it made something ache in her chest. The staff behind the counter greeted them politely, but Erin caught the slight widening of the cashier's eyes when they landed on her. Recognition. Alarm.
She gave a subtle shake of her head and turned her attention to Lillianne, who was now performing her own one-woman show.
"Oh, Xander, you have to try this raspberry tart! No, wait—the lemon bar!" She picked up the menu and practically climbed into his lap as she leaned over to point.
Erin sat across from them, silent, hands folded in her lap like a porcelain doll. Lillianne glanced at her, clearly pleased by her own antics.
"You're awfully quiet, maid," Lillianne said sweetly. "Not tempted by any desserts?"
"I don't have a sweet tooth," Erin replied calmly. "But thank you."
Lillianne giggled and turned back to Xander. "That's such a shame. Sweets make everything better, don't they, Xander?"
He didn't respond. He just picked up a menu and nodded absently.
When the food came, Lillianne went all out. She scooped a spoonful of strawberry cream and held it out toward Xander's mouth. "Say ah."
Erin looked away.
Xander stared at the spoon, then at Lillianne. "You don't have to—"
"Say ah," Lillianne insisted, sing-song.
He relented. Erin felt something twist in her stomach.
But it wasn't jealousy that truly gripped her—it was the quiet movement she saw behind the shop's counter. Two figures—one male, one female. Subtle but unmistakable. Watching her. Waiting.
Her heart dropped.
They're here.
Erin swallowed and stood. "Excuse me. I need to use the restroom."
Lillianne smirked. "Getting jealous already?"
Erin ignored her and made her way to the hallway that led to the staff areas. The second she turned the corner out of view, a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a storage room. She didn't resist.
"Are you insane?" the woman hissed. She had sharp cheekbones and dark eyes, dressed in plain clothes but carrying the quiet authority of someone used to command. "You bring him here? Do you know what this looks like, Celeste?"
"It's not what it looks like, Mira," Erin said quickly. "I didn't bring him. Lillianne did. It wasn't my plan."
The man behind Mira, broader and older, stepped forward. "Your timing couldn't be better. He's in our territory. Give us the signal. We'll take him now. And the girl."
"No." Erin stepped back. "You can't. That's not the plan."
Mira narrowed her eyes. "Then what is the plan? Because right now, it looks like you're leading them to us on a silver platter."
Erin's voice hardened. "I said no. You can't touch them. This isn't the time. I've already made progress. Xander's beginning to suspect his parents. If we wait, we'll have more than just leverage—we'll have a confession. Proof."
"Progress?" Mira scoffed. "You've been playing house for weeks."
Erin's temper flared. "And I've risked my life every damn day doing it. If they disappear, this will be war all over again. You want that?"
The man studied her. "Then tell us what to do."
"Stand down," Erin said. "Leave them alone. I'll handle this."
A long pause.
Then Mira nodded slowly. "Fine. But if you slip, or if they suspect even a little—"
"They won't," Erin cut in. "Just go."
They vanished as swiftly as they'd appeared. Erin leaned against the wall, breathing hard. Her heart wouldn't calm. She didn't even know what scared her more—that her people had almost attacked… or that she'd just protected the son of the very people who had ruined her life.
When she returned to the table, Lillianne glanced up from her cappuccino.
"Awfully long for a bathroom break. Did you go cry in the mirror?"
Erin smiled coldly. "I was praying for strength."
Lillianne blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Praying for strength to survive this nauseating display."
Xander snorted softly.
Lillianne's eyes narrowed, but before she could reply, a message pinged her phone. She glanced at it, frowned, and stood. "Excuse me. I need to take this."
The second she was gone, Xander looked at Erin, expression unreadable.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine, sir."
He flinched. "Don't call me that."
Erin smiled. "What would you prefer, sir?"
"Cut it out."
She sipped her water, posture perfect. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Xander stared at her. "You've been cold since this morning. Who am I kidding? You've been cold since her parents came."
"I'm sorry sir. Should I have apologized to your fiancée for daring to exist in her presence?"
He sighed. "That's not what I meant."
Erin met his gaze. "You told me to respect her. Even if she's the one at fault."
"That's how it works. You're not just anyone, Erin. You're supposed to support me. Even if it means swallowing pride sometimes."
"And she's just so worthy of that support, isn't she?"
"Erin—"
"I mean, you said it so proudly. 'My fiancée.' Like you're actually fond of her."
Her voice was light, sarcastic—but her eyes were dead. It unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
Xander rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not like that."
"Then how is it?"
He didn't answer.
She stood. "We should leave soon. I'm sure Lillianne has more feeding rituals to perform, and I'd rather not be here for the next round."
And with that, she looked away staring at nothing, intentionally ignoring him in the process.
Xander stared after her, frown deepening.
Something was off.
Very off.