CHAPTER 299: CHAPTER 299: OUTSIDE THE MANOR (1)

The evening air was crisp, carrying the faint hum of the city beyond the estate gates. Lucas stopped short on the manor steps, staring at the sleek, black car parked in the drive. Not just expensive... obscene. Polished curves gleamed under the lamps, chrome catching the light like the gleam of jewelry. The kind of machine that whispered money, power, and the arrogance to own both.

Trevor stood by the passenger door, one hand on the handle, the other sliding the cuff of his suit neatly into place. "Get in."

Lucas arched a brow. "What is this? A car or a declaration of war?"

Trevor’s mouth curved faintly, the kind of smile that gave nothing away. "Both."

Lucas huffed, tugging the belt of his coat tighter as he descended the steps. "You do realize this screams target, right? Subtlety isn’t in your vocabulary, is it?"

"Subtlety is for people who need to hide," Trevor said, opening the door with a smooth click. "I don’t."

Behind them, Windstone lingered at the manor entrance, his pale green eyes sharp even in the shadows. He gave a slight nod, already coordinating the vehicles that would trail discreetly behind. Lucas knew better than to argue, Windstone would rather die than let them go without protection. Still, he muttered under his breath as he slid into the leather seat, "I’m the omega here, and somehow you’re the one overcompensating."

Trevor circled the car, his stride steady, measured. Sliding behind the wheel, he adjusted the mirror, his cufflinks catching the faint glow of the dash. "You complain a lot for someone about to be chauffeured through the capital by the Grand Duke himself."

Lucas shot him a look, fastening his belt. "Chauffeured? You’re driving. That’s not chauffeured. That’s... dangerous. You don’t do normal things, Trevor. You probably signal with imperial decrees."

Trevor started the engine, the low purr of power filling the quiet. "I don’t need decrees. Everyone already moves when they see me coming."

Lucas groaned, sinking deeper into the seat. "Gods help us, I will die tonight."

Trevor pulled smoothly out of the drive, the car gliding like a predator through the quiet street. "You won’t die," he said, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Lucas slanted him a look, green eyes glinting in the dim dash light. "That’s exactly what people say before someone dies. It’s practically a curse."

Trevor’s hands rested easily on the wheel, the faintest curve pulling at his mouth. "Then I’ll rephrase. You’ll live with me for the rest of your life."

Lucas scoffed, but his gaze caught on Trevor’s hands. Strong, steady hands, veins tracing faintly beneath skin that was calloused in places but softened by care. His ring, platinum, engraved with his house seal, flashed against the leather wheel each time the city lights broke through the windshield. Long fingers adjusted with ease, guiding the car as if it were an extension of himself.

They were hands that had destroyed Vivienne without hesitation, hands that could crush if they chose to, yet when they touched him, they were careful, almost reverent. Lucas swallowed, looking quickly back at the blur of streets outside, but the thought lingered.

"You know," he said after a moment, his tone lighter to mask the pull in his chest, "normal couples go to movies, grab greasy takeout, and maybe sit by the river and make questionable life choices. But you..." he gestured vaguely at the ridiculous car, the tailored suit, and the convoy in their rearview mirror, "you think romance means staging a military operation."

Trevor shifted gears, the movement smooth, his ring catching the glow of the dash. "You wanted freedom. This is what it looks like with me. I’m not going to hide or apologize for what I have, and especially not for what I can offer you."

Lucas let out a short laugh, tilting his head toward him. "Freedom wrapped in bulletproof glass and chased by three cars of armed men. Very subtle."

Trevor’s mouth curved slightly, his focus never leaving the road. "You’re alive. That’s all that matters."

Lucas huffed, resting his temple against the cool glass, green eyes still on him. "You make it sound like I should be grateful. Should I remind you I remember your years before us? Half the city was terrified of you. And the other half was writing you love letters."

Trevor’s grip on the wheel didn’t falter, though his ring caught the light as his fingers shifted, steady and precise. "They were persistent."

Lucas smirked, unable to stop himself. "Persistent? You made them sit through a lecture. Gods, Trevor, I still have the clipping. You handed out essays, actual essays, on the benefits of celibacy to everyone who tried to propose to you."

Trevor smiled wide, flashing his teeth. "It worked."

Lucas burst out laughing, loud enough that Windstone’s car probably heard it through the radio. "It worked because you traumatized half the capital into swearing off marriage altogether. I should’ve demanded to read one of those essays before our second wedding, just to see what kind of nonsense you thought would keep people away."

Trevor’s smile lingered, sharp but easy. "You married me twice. Clearly, you weren’t discouraged."

Lucas snorted, brushing a hand down his face. "The first one was a trap. Five bishops, an oath, and you smiling like you’d caught me in a net. The second one was you parading me in front of high society like a prize stallion. I didn’t stand a chance."

Trevor downshifted smoothly as they slipped into a narrower street, the car humming under his control. His ring caught the passing glow of the streetlamps, the light flashing with each movement of his long fingers. "You didn’t want to stand a chance," he said simply.

Lucas’s laugh softened into something smaller, more private. He leaned his temple against the glass, lips curving. "You’re impossible."

Trevor’s eyes stayed on the road, but his hand shifted briefly from the wheel to brush over Lucas’s knee before returning to the leather grip. "And married," he corrected, his voice low, certain.

Lucas’s chest warmed in spite of himself, and he had to look back out the window before his mouth betrayed him with too wide a smile. "Insufferably married," he muttered, but there was no heat in it.