I close the front door behind him, the soft click echoing like a shot in the stillness. The silence swells immediately, louder now that he's gone. I stand there for a moment, fingers lingering on the cool metal of the handle, as if I can hold him back by sheer will. But I don't say anything. Can't.
His footsteps fade down the driveway, steady but measured, like he's trying to convince himself he's just going to work, not into a battlefield. I watch him go, unwilling to believe it's that simple.
Back inside, I move almost on autopilot. The house feels too big when it's just me, empty rooms filled with memories of us, the easy laughter, the shared silences, the weight of things left unsaid.
I don't want to be the one waiting at home, pretending everything's fine. But that's exactly what I have to do. Summer break drags on, and Nico, our quiet, steady presence, is still here, tucked away somewhere in the house, an anchor I cling to when the worry threatens to drown me.
I pour myself a drink, hands shaking just a little, and settle onto the couch. The screen glows but I don't turn it on. My eyes are fixed on the door, waiting for the moment it will open again, for him to walk back inside like the storm never touched us.
But beneath that hope is a gnawing doubt. This ghost we're chasing, this intruder, it's still out there. Watching. Waiting.
And so are we.
Nico stepped into the lab, his expression carefully neutral as if trying to appear unfazed by everything that had happened. But beneath that calm surface, a quiet vigilance lingered, a wariness he refused to let show.
Professor Aldrin was waiting near the entrance. His eyes met Nico's with a flicker of urgency, and in a low voice, barely above a whisper, he spoke.
"Mr. Francoise got a lead on the intruder. He wants to see you."
Nico nodded sharply, his jaw tightening. "Where?"
"His office."
Without another word, Nico moved off toward the office, each step carrying the weight of the unseen dangers waiting ahead. The lab's usual hum masked the tension in the air, but those who knew what was coming could feel it crackling just beneath the surface.
Mr. Francoise's office was dimly lit, the blinds drawn halfway to keep the sunlight at bay. It gave the room a grey cast, where nothing looked quite real. Papers were stacked in neat, slightly uneven piles on his desk, and a faint trace of old coffee lingered in the air.
Nico entered quietly, Professor Aldrin just a step behind him, both men carrying the weight of the unknown like a second skin.
Francoise didn't look up immediately. He was hunched over his desk, the light from multiple monitors painting his tired features in flickering shades of blue. His fingers tapped a slow rhythm against his chin as he watched a paused frame on one of the screens.
"You wanted to see us," Aldrin said softly, closing the door behind them.
Francoise leaned back with a long exhale and finally looked at them. "I reviewed the security feed again last night, every second, every shift in the hallway cams." He gestured toward the monitors with a tilt of his head. "Most of it was what we've already seen. But then, something strange showed up."
He tapped a few keys. One of the screens unpaused. The footage played at normal speed, quiet hallway, occasional flickers of light.
Then, there he was.
A man in a white lab coat, phone pressed to his ear, pacing.
At first glance, he looked like anyone else working late during break season. Nothing unusual. But Francoise paused the footage and rewound it slowly, pointing.
"Look at his body language. The way he's walking. Restless, nervous. Like he's being watched, or like he knows something. He's not just talking, he's checking the corners every few steps."
"Could be anyone," Nico said carefully, arms folded. But his eyes narrowed as he leaned in.
"I thought so too," Francoise replied. "But this part…"
He hit play again.
The man abruptly stopped mid-step and turned slightly, like he was reacting to something out of frame. He didn't speak. He didn't move. Just stood there, completely still for a full six seconds.
And then, he bolted.
Turned on his heel and disappeared from the camera's view.
Francoise froze the frame. "He ran. No sound, no reason. Just sprinted out like something lit a fire under him."
"Was there anything down that hallway?" Aldrin asked, frowning.
"Storage. Old archives. Nothing worth panic, unless someone was hiding there. Or something."
Nico stepped closer to the screen, eyes locked on the paused image. "Do we know who he is?"
Francoise's voice dropped. "I didn't at first. But I ran the timestamp. Checked lab entries for that day. One match, David Lyon."
"Lyon?" Aldrin blinked. "He's one of ours. Internship program. Bright kid. Keeps to himself."
"Exactly," Francoise said. "Too quiet. No record of him being near that wing. His access card shouldn't even open those doors. But here he is."
Nico's jaw clenched. "You think he's the intruder?"
"I think he knows something," Francoise answered. "And if he was the one who slipped into the prototype chamber, we need to find out why he panicked, what scared him into running."
Silence settled heavy in the room, only broken by the faint hum of the monitor fans.
Finally, Francoise looked between them.
"I want both of you to talk to him. Carefully. No accusations yet. If he's hiding something, we don't want to spook him worse than he already is."
Nico nodded once, tightly. "We'll handle it."
"And if he's not alone?" Aldrin asked.
Francoise's expression darkened.
"Then we dig deeper. Because this----" he pointed to the screen, "----this wasn't a coincidence. Someone's playing a long game. And it just got messier."
The room was quiet, far too quiet. The kind of silence that didn't ask questions, it demanded answers. David sat in the middle of it, shoulders hunched, fingers gripping the hem of his sleeve. The chill from the walls of the lab office clung to his back, but it was the two men across from him that made him sweat.
Nico had barely said a word since they entered. He simply sat across the table, composed, unreadable. Professor Aldrin stood behind him, arms folded, watching David like a hawk eyeing a wounded rabbit.
The silence stretched, dragged thin by pressure.
Then, finally, Aldrin spoke.
"We saw the footage. Two days ago, outside the prototype chamber."
David's jaw tightened. "I was just walking."
"We didn't say anything about what we saw on the footage."
David, panicked on the slip he made. "I-It was obvious, since I'm here aren't I?" He still tried to composed himself.
"Fine, makes sense but-----" Nico leaned a bit forward.
" You weren't just walking by," Nico said, voice calm but direct. "You followed us. And you watched."
David looked away, down, anywhere but at their eyes.
"You were also seen on a call," Aldrin added. "Pacing. Agitated. Then you ran."
David gave a short, nervous laugh. "That's not a crime."
"No," Aldrin said, coolly. "But running like you'd just been given a death sentence? That's worth asking about."
"I just, look, I saw you with someone. A girl. She's not from the lab. I thought maybe you were, hiding something."
Nico didn't blink. "So you watched. Then you called someone."
David's shoulders twitched. "It was a private call."
"With someone who made you bolt like your skin was on fire?" Aldrin asked, unimpressed.
David's voice shook. "She… she said I was already involved. That if anything came out, I'd take the fall."
"She?" Nico asked, tone sharpening.
David hesitated.
"Who is she?" Aldrin demanded.
David's eyes darted between them, his breath shallow. "Just… someone I know."
"What does she want?" Nico said, leaning forward.
"She said you took something from her. That she was just… taking it back."
Nico's gaze narrowed. "What's her name?"
David's voice cracked. "Kayla."
The name landed like a slap across the room.
Nico stilled, the shift in his expression so subtle, yet the chill that followed was unmistakable.
Aldrin raised an eyebrow. "And who the hell is Kayla?"
"…My ex-wife," Nico replied flatly.
The room dropped into silence again. But this time, it wasn't waiting. It was counting down.
Silence followed Nico's words.
Ex-wife.
The two words dropped like iron weights on the table.
David's breath caught. Aldrin blinked, once, then slowly leaned back with an exhale that sounded more amused than surprised.
"Well, that explains a lot," Aldrin muttered, eyes flicking toward David. "Damn. She really played you like a fiddle."
David looked like the floor had cracked beneath him. "She was your… wife?"
Nico didn't nod. He didn't even move. "For a time."
David's lips parted, but no sound came out. All those nights. All the promises. The moments he thought were real. The way Kayla looked at him, touched him, whispered things into his ear like he was the only man that mattered.
It wasn't love.
It wasn't even personal.
It was strategy.
His stomach twisted.
"She… she never said anything about that," he mumbled. "She said she was wronged. That you stole something from her. That she had nothing, and you had everything."
Nico's eyes stayed locked on him. "And you believed her."
David swallowed hard, the betrayal slamming into him in full.
He hadn't been her partner.
He'd been a pawn.
The woman he thought he was falling for, had fallen for, was never after him. Not once. Not really. She had always been looking past him. At Nico.
And now, everything made sense.
The obsession. The fire in her voice when she spoke about Nico. The twisted satisfaction she got from every update David gave her. She never cared about the project. Or the lab.
Or him.
"She just wanted you back," David said, hollow. "That's all this was. She used me to get close to you."
Nico didn't deny it.
Aldrin gave David a look that held no sympathy. "What did you think this was, son? Some whirlwind romance?"
David covered his face with both hands, trying to push back the embarrassment, the guilt, the weight of it all. "I thought I mattered."
Nico stood slowly. "You didn't matter to her, David. You were convenient."
Those words hit harder than any scream could have.
David didn't argue. Couldn't.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if Kayla was still watching. Smiling. Waiting for the whole thing to burn.
David sat frozen, the truth unraveling around him like strings pulled loose from everything he thought he knew.
Nico didn't move at first. He watched the younger man with an unreadable expression, not pity, not anger… just a quiet understanding worn from surviving the same storm.
Then, without a word, he walked over and rested a hand on David's shoulder. Firm. Brief. Heavy with meaning.
"Kayla," Nico said softly, almost too soft to hear, "she's good at playing with men's desires. Not because she loves them. But because she knows exactly what they want to believe."
David blinked up at him, throat tight.
Nico's gaze drifted, past the lab, past the memories. "She cheated on me. Not once. Three times. And each time, she came back with tears and promises… same lips, same lies."
He looked down at David, voice steady but with the faintest echo of old bruises. "Don't waste yourself trying to be the one she finally means it for."
David swallowed hard.
"Take a step back while you still can," Nico finished. "Before the fire you're helping her light ends up burning you too."
Then, just like that, Nico stepped away, shoulders squared, spine straight. Like a man who'd already crawled out of the wreckage and didn't plan to go back.
David sat there, stunned.
Because for the first time, he realized:
He hadn't been Nico's rival.
He'd just been the next one in line.
He left David in the room with Aldrin, his silence heavier than any confession. Nico stepped out into the corridor alone, the tension of the confrontation still clinging to his shoulders. He took a breath, slow and quiet, before making his way to Mr. Francoise's office.
The old man was standing by the monitors, as if he'd never moved. His brows lifted when Nico entered, but he didn't need an explanation. One look at Nico's face told him enough.
"Well?" Francoise asked, arms crossing.
"It was him," Nico said plainly. "He was the one we saw on the footage. But he didn't come to sabotage anything. He followed us out of curiosity."
Francoise narrowed his eyes. "And the call?"
Nico paused, jaw tightening. "He was being manipulated. Coerced. It was Kayla."
Francoise's expression darkened. "Kayla. The ex."
Nico nodded once. "She's behind this. David was just a pawn. She fed him just enough attention and fantasy to pull him in, and then pointed him at the lab like a loaded weapon. He didn't even know what he was looking at until the prototype turned and stared him down."
Francoise sighed, turning away for a moment as the weight of it all settled in. "So all this... the break-in, the footage, the panic, it's not corporate espionage."
"No," Nico said quietly. "It's obsession. Kayla's."
Francoise turned back to him, the look in his eyes sharp. "And what's she after, really? Revenge?"
Nico's voice was cold, distant. "She wants to feel like she still matters. That she can still get to me. If she can't have control over my heart, she'll try to burn everything I've built instead."
The two stood in silence, the hum of the monitors the only sound between them.
"We're not dealing with a thief," Nico added, almost to himself. "We're dealing with madness in love's clothing."
Francoise gave a solemn nod, the reality settling like dust over old bones. "Then let's make sure she never gets the chance to light that match."
Days passed.
Calls rang unanswered. Messages left on read. Silence, thick and suffocating, settled around Kayla like smoke in a locked room.
David had vanished.
She sat on the edge of the lavish hotel bed, one leg folded beneath her, nails tapping furiously against her phone screen. Each second of being ignored chipped away at her carefully painted calm.
"Useless," she hissed under her breath. "Little worm crawled back to safety, didn't he?"
Her eyes flared as she tossed the phone across the bed, frustration bubbling dangerously. "After everything I gave him. After everything I let him do to me."
She stood, pacing, barefoot against the cool marble floor, skin prickling with rage. "I should've known he didn't have the spine. A mouse in a man's skin. Spineless little-----"
A pair of hands slid around her waist from behind, halting her spiral.
"Shhh," came the velvet voice at her ear, warm breath fanning her neck. "You'll wrinkle that pretty face if you keep frowning like that."
Kayla stiffened. "Don't start."
But the man only chuckled softly, his lips brushing her shoulder. He was older. Suave. Tailored in charm and silk-smooth lies. She never called him by name in public. No one did. He was a whisper, a presence. The kind of man who walked through walls by invitation only.
His hands glided up her arms, fingers gentle as if molding porcelain. "I told you not to rely on that boy. I warned you he'd crack."
"You also told me I'd have Nico back by now," she snapped, her tone laced with venom but softening as his lips pressed against her pulse. Her anger wanted to fight. Her body betrayed her.
"I said you will have him." His voice dropped, sultry and assured. "I never said it would be clean."
Kayla turned slowly, eyes searching his. "He hates me."
He smiled. "For now."
She narrowed her gaze. "You think you can change that?"
He leaned in, brushing her hair behind her ear with delicate precision. "I can give Nico back to you. Just trust me."
Kayla studied him. For the briefest second, doubt danced behind her eyes. But it died quickly, smothered by the need that ruled her.
"Then do it," she whispered. "Burn the world down if you have to. Just bring him back to me."
He smiled again. Not the smile of a lover.
The smile of a man with his own game.