Chapter 431: A Night Away...

Camilla watched his hands, then the glass. She turned the phone slightly, testing the angle, the weight. Luminous eyes reflected a small rectangle of light.

When he started toward the next icons, messages, settings, the little galaxy of functions she had asked for without knowing their names, she stopped him with a quiet sound, almost a breath.

"I prefer to explore the rest myself." The

He accepted it at once. Of course she did. Curiosity first. Instruction second, and only when she chose it.

"All right."

He gave a small wave, already turning. The elevator doors stood open as if they had been waiting for him. He stepped in. For a last instant they looked at each other across the threshold, her pale face, the red of her eyes in the corridor light, the phone still in her hand like a dark coin. Then the doors began to close. The air shifted. Her presence cut off as cleanly as a door latch.

Camilla stood alone.

The landing hummed. The city glowed, distant and ordinary. She looked at the closed doors and felt, without evidence she could name, that he had been a little colder tonight. The tone had been normal. The words had been normal. Something under them had not quite matched the man who had once sighed at her cold self.

’Is it because he said he’ll be away for the night...?’

She scolded the thought before it could grow teeth. ’Relax, Camilla. It’s only one night.’

The phone was cool now against her palm. She did not put it away at once.

The car dropped in a smooth, soundless fall. Stan leaned a shoulder to the wall, the city’s lights rising past the glass. Once the doors had shut, the careful distance he kept around Camilla loosened. He took out his own phone, found his sister, and called.

She picked up on the second ring.

"You only call when you want something or when you’re already in the car," she said. Warm, dry. "Which is it?"

"Both. Hello to you too."

"Hello. You sound like you’re in a box."

"Elevator."

"Fancy. Did you eat?"

"Not yet."

"That’s a no dressed as a delay. There’s leftover rice if you come by first. I’m not cooking again."

"I wasn’t going to ask you to cook."

"Good. Because I wasn’t going to." A rustle, a tap, she was moving through her place, unhurried. "So how was your day since I left..."

"Busy day."

"That’s your other no." Sibling banter, no heat in it. "Fine. Keep your mysteries. Just don’t show up looking tragic. I don’t have the patience."

He almost smiled. The elevator chimed. Doors opened on the lobby’s cooler air. He walked out toward the night and the street, phone still at his ear.

"I’m coming to pick you up."

"I felt like visiting them back at Velaris tonight..."

Sacha knew who he’s talking about...

"Perfect timing," she added, after a beat, and then, lower, as if the thought had only just surfaced, "Visiting them always skipped my mind, even though it’s not been long since we discovered their location."

"Its alright, So Mia," he said. "And her mom. Velaris. Tonight. I only intend to stay the night."

"Mia." The name sat easily between them. "Yeah. That’s... actually good. I keep meaning to go and then the week eats it. I miss Mrs Edith food..."

"Yeah, it was really good last time I visited..."

"Then I’m coming. Don’t drive like you’re late. I’m putting on shoes, not running a race."

"I’ll be there in a bit."

"Bring the rice excuse if you want. Or don’t. I’ll tell her you forgot to eat either way." Another rustle. "Stan."

"Yeah."

"Don’t make it weird if Mia’s clingy. You get that face."

"I don’t have a face."

"You have several. Use the normal one."

"I’ll see you soon."

"Soon," she agreed, and hung up with the same lack of ceremony he had used on Camilla, except this time the silence afterward was easy.

He pocketed the phone.

The elevator chimed. The doors opened on the lobby’s cooler light, and Stan stepped out.

Night had settled fully into the building. The lobby was a long, quiet plane of pale stone and soft gold fixtures, the kind of lighting that made shadows polite rather than dark. A security desk sat empty of conversation.

His footsteps came back to him in a faint, delayed echo, leather on stone, unhurried. He crossed toward the glass without looking at the directory or the potted plants that always looked too carefully alive.

The phone call still sat easy in his ear, his sister’s dry warmth, shoes being found, leftover rice used as a threat. The other conversation, the one upstairs, he left on the landing where it belonged..

He pushed the exit door. Cool air met him at once, cleaner than the conditioned hush inside, carrying a thin edge of dust and distant rain that had not quite arrived. The night smelled like pavement and metal. Streetlights laid even coins of amber across the walk. Beyond the canopy, the city kept its low, continuous voice: tires on asphalt, a horn far off, the electrical murmur of signs that never slept.

The parking area opened under more of that same amber. Rows of polished hoods held the lights and gave them back in long, undistorted bands. His stride stayed even. Not slow. Not rushed. He already knew where he was going.

The Audi waited where he had left it, darker than the Lamborghini, quieter even standing still. He unlocked it. The lights blinked once, a small animal answering. The door opened with a familiar, muted click. He slid into the driver’s seat and pulled the door shut, and the night dropped to a thinner thread around the cabin.

Leather took his weight, cool at first, then warm

He sat a moment with the key in his hand, not from hesitation, only from the habit of arriving fully in a space before asking it to move. The dashboard woke when he started the engine, pale instruments, a soft hum came with no growl.

The Audi’s voice was a low, even hum, almost modest. He adjusted the mirror and the seatbelt found its latch.