Malibu, Langley Estate
A heavy hush had settled over the Langley villa that evening.
Soft, ambient lighting traced the contours of the room where four figures sat, each draped in their own silence—too tired to speak, too full to rest.
One leaned back, eyes closed.
Another had yet to loosen his tie, the top button undone as if in surrender.
No one had changed clothes.
The day still clung to them—heat and perfume, sweat and adrenaline—like a second skin they weren't ready to shed.
Jinwoo sat with his eyes shut, Noah idly spun the cap of a camera lens between his fingers.
Daniel rolled a bottle of mineral water across the table, then stilled it.
Celeste traced the edge of her thumbnail with quiet deliberation.
Then came the vibration—subtle but sharp.
Daniel's phone lit up, and he answered without a word.
A silent nod, and he disappeared upstairs into the study, his footsteps barely echoing on the polished floor.
Moments later, Howard approached and leaned close, his voice barely more than a breath in Celeste's ear.
She rose without hesitation.
"I'll be back in a minute,"
she said, her voice calm, almost too calm.
She followed Howard, up the same stairs Daniel had just taken.
Time passed. How much—none of them knew.
Then her room door opened, and Celeste emerged into the corridor.
Without pause, she drew her phone from her pocket, typed something.
Then her gaze dipped downward—toward Noah, seated on the steps.
He looked up.
Wordlessly, he stood, pulling the oversized hoodie from his shoulders.
With the weight of fatigue still on his back, he climbed the stairs.
At her door, he knocked lightly.
"Come in."
Her voice, low and even, came through the door like silk.
The room was dim, lit only by a warm bedside lamp.
She sat on the edge of a small sofa, and he moved to sit beside her without asking.
"Tomorrow. Six sharp. Beverly House. There's a dress code. We'll need to check the site early,"
she said, her tone quiet, composed.
"…What if I look hopelessly provincial?"
He let out a dry chuckle.
"Is that what you're worried about?"
She laughed, brief and soft.
"I've never been to a place like that," he muttered.
She shook her head.
"Just take my arm and smile. That's all you need to do. You're coming as my partner—nothing more, nothing less."
"Oh? And if someone pulls a knife, do I jump in front of you?"
He teased, and she gently swatted his arm.
"There it is again. That mouth."
"…But if things really do get dangerous… I'm okay with that. You know that, right?"
He looked at her, and for a moment, something raw flickered between them.
"What? You want me to leave you behind and run?"
"I mean… no. But also yes. Kind of? You'd actually run, and I wouldn't even blame you."
They both laughed—tired, but real.
Then he stood. Reached for the door.
Just as it opened—so did the study door across the hall.
Daniel stepped out.
The doors stood open at either end of the corridor.
Noah paused. Their eyes met.
"…You're staring. I can hear your thoughts from here."
Noah rolled his eyes.
Daniel said nothing.
He just shrugged, casual, too casual.
With a wave of dismissal, Noah disappeared down the stairs.
Daniel remained still, but his gaze lingered—anchored.
Celeste stood in the threshold, her expression unreadable.
He stepped closer.
"I have a private engagement tomorrow,"
she said, the words spaced carefully, as if weighing their weight.
"A charity event at Beverly House. They specifically asked to meet Noah. I think… I need to take him."
"…A charity event? Not me. Not Jinwoo. Noah?"
His voice betrayed the flicker of disbelief behind his gaze.
She nodded once—smoothly, cleanly—and turned without another word, disappearing back into her room.
Daniel hesitated.
Then followed.
Quietly.
Like a man chasing an answer he wasn't ready to hear.