Steel & Smoke

"I've always been the one they overlook. Which is funny, considering I see everything."

I'd been fidgeting all day.

Not because I was anxious. God forbid.

I just... couldn't sit still. Couldn't focus. Couldn't breathe without something feeling like it was off.

The energy was wrong.

The air was heavy.

And even the espresso at Gavin's estate tasted like it had secrets.

Adam was worse.

He hadn't said more than three words since breakfast. The man had been carrying Charlotte's pregnancy like it was a company merger, and now that she was halfway to delivering twins, he still hadn't proposed.

Still hadn't even blinked in her direction most days.

I didn't know if he was buying time or planning an escape route. knowing of what a bustard he is under rhat cold facade, I am expecting an awesome outcome from him when Charlotte has her babies.

And then there was Jordan.

Who had gone full rabid-guard-dog mode when it came to Fay Wolfgang.

Staring down anyone who even breathed in her general direction.

Growling at harmless waiters.

Sitting next to her like she was state property under lockdown.

The whole house was tense.

Tight.

Like we were all holding our breath for something none of us could name.

Me?

I did what I always do when everyone else started brooding and biting. I left.

Now I was in the back of the town car, arm slung over the leather seat, trying not to open my mouth just to pick a fight. My phone was off. Messages muted. I wasn't in the mood for passive aggressive pings from Victoria or "I need you to look at this doc" emails from board members with no spine.

Even the city looked strange today, muted under a sheet of silver clouds, like Manhattan was draped in silence.

My driver, David, didn't speak.

He knew better.

I was in a mood, and when I was in a mood, I watched everything.

The rain started in a light drizzle.

Pavement slick. Pedestrians hunched forward.

And I sat there in my silence, feeling something coiling in my gut.

Then...

SLAM.

The car jolted to a dead stop, tires shrieking against wet asphalt.

My head snapped forward, hand braced against the seat.

"What the hell, David?!" I barked.

He didn't answer immediately.

Just gripped the wheel, knuckles white.

I narrowed my eyes. "David."

He glanced in the rearview mirror, eyes wide, breath shallow.

And then he said something I'd never heard from him in all our years together.

"Sir... I think I just almost hit a bride."

My blood turned cold.

"What?"

He looked toward the windshield.

And I followed his gaze.

That's when I saw it.

The flash of white.

Soaked veil.

Bare feet.

A woman. No, a bride... standing in the middle of the street, dress torn, eyes wild, chest heaving.

She wasn't screaming.

She was running.

And suddenly, nothing felt still anymore.