CHAPTER 49: CHAPTER FORTY NINE

Chapter Forty-Nine

Alicia’s POV

I hadn’t seen Malachi all day. Some place in my heart I tried to deny yearned for him. It was a frustrating feeling, wanting someone I shouldn’t want. Someone who was still so much of a mystery to me.

I went to work alone. The driver dropped me off at the usual time, and I walked into the building trying not to think about where Malachi was or what he was doing. Trying not to wonder if he was avoiding me after everything that had happened between us.

I handled everything like a piece of cake. The meetings, the paperwork, the endless emails that needed responses. Work had always been my escape, the one place where I felt competent and in control. Where I didn’t have to think about my complicated feelings or my messy life.

By late afternoon, I was reviewing a contract when my phone buzzed. Lucas. I stared at his name on the screen for a moment before answering.

"Alicia," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "How are you?"

"I’m fine. What’s up?"

"I’m in the city. Silver Lake City."

I sat up straighter in my chair, surprised. "What? When did you get here?"

"This morning. I took the early train."

I was shocked. Why did he leave his old mother in Dark City to come here? His mother wasn’t in the best health. He’d mentioned before that she needed help getting around, that he worried about leaving her alone for too long.

"Is everything okay? Is your mom alright?"

"She’s fine. My aunt is staying with her for a few days." He paused. "I just wanted to see you, Alicia. I wanted us to meet up and talk. If that’s okay with you."

I leaned back in my chair, thinking. It didn’t seem like a bad idea. Especially since he helped save Sophie from my father’s cruel hand. I owed him that much at least. And honestly, it might be nice to spend time with someone uncomplicated. Someone from my old life who knew me before all of this.

"Sure," I said. "Where are you?"

"There’s a restaurant near the city center. Barley Bistro. Do you know it?"

"I can find it. What time?"

"Whenever you’re free. I’ll be here."

I quickly finished up my work, wrapping up the last few tasks and sending out the emails that couldn’t wait. By the time I grabbed my bag and headed out, it was already past six. The evening traffic was building up, but the restaurant wasn’t too far from the office.

When I got there, Lucas was already seated at a table near the window. He stood up when he saw me, that familiar easy smile on his face. He looked the same as always. Simple clothes, warm eyes, the kind of person who put you at ease just by being around them.

"Alicia," he said, pulling out my chair. "You look great."

"Thanks. You didn’t have to order already."

"I haven’t. Well, not for me anyway." He gestured to the table where a plate of pasta with cream sauce was waiting. My favorite. "I ordered your favorite food though. I hope that’s okay."

I was surprised he still remembered. It had been long since we’d been close enough for him to know these little details about me. But Lucas had always been like that. Thoughtful. Attentive in a way that felt natural rather than overwhelming.

"You remembered," I said softly, sitting down.

"Of course I did." He sat across from me and signaled the waiter. "You used to order it every time we went out."

That was true. Back in Dark City, before everything fell apart, we used to meet up at a little Italian place near our apartment. It felt like a lifetime ago now.

We talked about small things at first. How his job was going, how Sophie was doing, the weather. Safe topics that didn’t require too much thought. But then the conversation shifted, the way it always did with Lucas. He had a way of drawing out deeper things without making it feel forced.

"Do you remember what your mother used to say?" he asked, taking a sip of his water. "About us becoming successful?"

I smiled despite myself. "Yeah. She used to say we’d become really successful kids like the ones she worked for."

My mother used to work as an assistant to the madam of a very rich family before she was fired because of dad. It was one of the better jobs she’d had, working for a wealthy family in the nicer part of Dark City. She’d come home with stories about their big house, their fancy cars, the way they lived without worrying about money.

She’d been so proud of that job. So hopeful that it would lead to something better for our family.

"She talked about that family all the time," I continued, feeling a familiar ache in my chest. "She thought if she worked hard enough, proved herself valuable enough, maybe they’d help us somehow. Help me get into a good school or something."

"What happened?" Lucas asked gently. "Why did she get fired?"

I felt my jaw tighten. This was the part of the story that still made me angry, even years later. "My father happened."

Lucas waited, not pushing, just listening the way he always did.

"Apparently, he went there drunk one day," I said, my voice flat. "Showed up at their house looking for mom. Started making a scene. Threw cuss words at the family’s heir. Some teenage boy who was home from boarding school."

I could still remember my mother coming home that day. The way her face had looked. The tears she tried to hide. The way my father had laughed about it later, like it was all some big joke.

"The kid felt disrespected and told his parents to fire her," I continued. "And they did. Just like that. No warning. No severance. Nothing."

He felt disrespected and sacked my mom. I was angry at the time. Furious, actually. I’d been maybe thirteen or fourteen, old enough to understand what it meant for our family. Old enough to know that losing that job meant going back to struggling, back to wondering if we’d have enough for rent.

"I remember being so mad at that kid," I said. "He was just a little kid himself, maybe sixteen or seventeen. And they listened to him like he was a god or something. Like his feelings mattered more than our entire livelihood."

"That’s terrible," Lucas said, and he meant it. There was real sympathy in his eyes.

"But I guess that was the rule of the world," I said with a bitter smile. "The weak are trampled under the pyramid. The rich do what they want and people like us just have to deal with it."

It was a lesson I’d learned early and never forgotten. Money meant power. Power meant you could hurt people without consequences. And if you were on the bottom, you just had to take it and survive.

"Is that why you work so hard?" Lucas asked. "To get out from under that pyramid?"

"Maybe." I picked at my pasta, suddenly not as hungry as I’d been. "I don’t know. I just knew I never wanted to be that powerless again. Never wanted to watch my mother cry because some spoiled rich kid decided to flex his authority."

We talked for a while longer after that. About lighter things. About his plans while he was in the city. About whether I liked Silver Lake City better than Dark City. The conversation flowed easily, comfortably, and I found myself relaxing in a way I hadn’t in days.

After a few more talks, I left the restaurant feeling a bit lightweight. Like I’d set down something heavy I’d been carrying without realizing it. Lucas had always had that effect on me. He made things feel simpler somehow. Less complicated.

I stopped at a small shop on the way back and got some snacks for Sophie. Chocolate cookies and those gummy candies she loved. Small things, but I knew they’d make her smile. She’d probably been worried about me all day, wondering where I was and when I’d come home.

As I walked back to where the driver was waiting, my phone buzzed. A text from Malachi.

Where are you?

Just two words, but I could feel the tension in them. The possessiveness. Part of me wanted to ignore it, to make him wonder the way he’d made me wonder all day. But another part of me, the part I was still trying to deny, felt a flutter of something warm at the thought that he’d noticed my absence.

On my way back,

I typed.

Had dinner with a friend.

I didn’t elaborate. Didn’t mention Lucas’s name. Maybe that made me petty, but I didn’t care. Let him wonder for once. Let him feel a fraction of the uncertainty he’d put me through.

The driver opened the door and I slid into the back seat, the bag of snacks in my lap. Through the window, the city lights blurred past. Somewhere out there, Malachi was waiting. And despite everything, despite all the reasons I had to keep my distance, I found myself looking forward to seeing him.

Maybe that made me weak. Maybe it made me foolish. But right now, driving through the evening traffic with Sophie’s favorite treats in my hands, I decided I didn’t care.