The Vancroft family penthouse was not a home; it was a statement. Perched atop one of the tallest spires in Neo Arcadia's elite upper district, its architecture was a brutalist fusion of black obsidian and shimmering Aether-conduits that pulsed with a soft, blue light. It was a fortress, a throne room, and a laboratory all in one. To Grady, it felt like walking into the belly of a beast that had already swallowed him whole.
He and April rode the private elevator in a silence that had become their default state. The air between them was charged, a silent battleground of resentment and forced proximity. When the doors slid open, they did not open into a foyer, but directly into the main living area—a vast, open-plan space with a panoramic view of the city that was meant to inspire awe. For Grady, it only highlighted how far he was from the streets below.
Silas Vancroft was waiting for them, standing before the floor-to-ceiling window like a king surveying his domain. He turned as they entered, his smile a perfect, polished tool.
"April. Grady. So good of you to come," he said, his voice as smooth and cold as polished marble. "I trust the traffic from the shoot was manageable?"
"It was fine, Father," April replied, her tone carefully neutral. She walked forward and allowed him to kiss her cheek, a stiff, formal gesture.
"Grady," Silas said, turning his purple-eyed gaze on him. The smile remained, but the warmth, if it had ever been there, vanished. "You're looking… functional."
Grady gave a single, curt nod. "Silas."
He hated these dinners. They were performances, and he was the lead actor in a play he never auditioned for. A servant, silent and efficient, guided them to a table that could seat twenty but was set for three. The distance between each setting felt like a mile.
The first course was served—some form of delicate, bioluminescent seafood that glowed faintly on the plate. Grady picked up his fork, his movements economical. He ate not for pleasure, but for fuel.
"So," Silas began, slicing into his food with surgical precision. "How are the two of you settling in? A year is a significant milestone. A time for… reflection. And projection."
April stiffened almost imperceptibly. "We're settled, Father. Grady is… adequate in his duties. My career is progressing."
"Ah, yes. The career." Silas took a sip of wine. "The modeling. A charming hobby. It keeps your name and face in the public eye, which has its uses. But let's not confuse a diversion with a destiny." His eyes shifted to Grady. "And you, my boy? Any… developments to report on the primary objective?"
The question hung in the air, as heavy and unpleasant as a physical blow. The "primary objective." The heir.
Grady kept his gaze on his plate. "No."
Silas's smile tightened at the edges. " 'No.' Such a definitive word. I had hoped for more progress. The genetic compatibility between a Leviathan-class Spark and a… well, whatever latent potential you possess, Grady… is a fascinating unknown. I am a man of science, as much as business. The results would be… monumental."
April's fork clinked loudly against her plate. "Perhaps if we were given some space, some actual privacy, instead of being treated like specimens in your personal menagerie—"
"Privacy is a luxury, April," Silas interrupted, his voice dropping a decibel, gaining a dangerous edge. "One earns luxuries through results. This union was not my first choice, but it was a necessary one. You forced my hand with your rebelliousness. Now, you will fulfill your role. Both of you."
He set his wine glass down, the crystal ringing like a bell. "I am not a patient man. The Obsidian Howl syndicate is making moves in the Aether Veins. The Bureau is increasing its scrutiny. I need consolidation. I need a legacy. An heir with a Spark that could command the very oceans and skies is not a want, April. It is a necessity for our continued… relevance."
He looked directly at Grady now, his gaze boring into him. "I removed you from the gutter, boy. I gave you purpose. I allowed your sister to live in comfort and safety. Do not mistake my generosity for weakness. The terms of our agreement are non-negotiable."
The ghost of the warehouse was in the room with them. Grady could feel the cold concrete against his back, smell the dust and blood. He could see Lily's terrified face. The hollow emptiness in his chest began to burn with a familiar, cold fire. The air around him felt staticky, thick.
He forced it down. He locked the storm behind a wall of ice.
"I understand the terms," Grady said, his voice flat, devoid of all emotion.
"Do you?" Silas leaned forward slightly, his presence dominating the table. "I wonder. Sometimes I look at you, and I don't see gratitude. I see calculation. I see the street rat still trying to find a way to cheat the system. Let me be perfectly clear." He picked up his steak knife, not as a threat, but as a point of illustration, tracing the edge with his finger. "If I begin to believe that you are not fully committed to this family's future, my protection for your sister will be… re-evaluated. The comfortable little academy she attends, the apartment she lives in… it can all vanish in an instant. Do we have an understanding?"
The threat was delivered with the same calm, conversational tone he used to discuss the wine. It was all the more terrifying for it.
Grady's jaw was so tight he thought his teeth might crack. He met Silas's gaze, his pink eyes like chips of frozen rose quartz. "Perfectly."
"Good." Silas's smile returned, the charming host once more. "Then let's enjoy the rest of our meal. The dessert is apparently sublime."
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of exquisite food that tasted like ash. Grady answered when spoken to, his replies short and precise. April had retreated into a stony silence, her pride clearly wounded by her father's blunt reduction of her to a breeding asset.
When the agonizing evening finally ended and they were back in the elevator descending to their own prison, the silence between them was different. It wasn't just hostile; it was charged with a shared, humiliating understanding. They were both pawns on Silas Vancroft's board, and he had just reminded them that pawns were the most disposable pieces of all.
As the city lights streaked past the elevator glass, Grady made a silent vow. He would find a way out. Not just for himself, but for Lily. And when he did, he would make sure the Tiger Shark of Neo Arcadia regretted the day he ever decided to cage a storm.