After surviving his first crisis at Nexus, Riven noticed a shift. The executives still lingered after meetings, weighing every word he said—but now, at least, they listened.
He knew they didn't fully trust him. He was still a Virellian, still the brother of Nexus's greatest rival. But he was earning ground, one decision at a time.
At home, things were easier.
He and Lior were settling into their new life. The condo no longer felt like a stranger. Lior was thriving—spending hours in the indoor playground, building towers, crashing toy planes, laughing like the world had never hurt him.
On Riven's days off, they walked to the nearby park. When Lior wasn't in kindergarten, they chased sunlight together, hand in hand. The neighborhood felt… designed. School, park, mall—all within reach. Coincidence, maybe. Maybe not. Either way, Riven was grateful.
"Hi!" Eli's voice rang out, warm and easy, as he stepped into the lobby of Eirené Residences.
Lior sat on the sofa, legs swinging, a model airplane balanced in his hands. Riven had just dropped him off after school but had rushed back—the teacher had forgotten to hand over something important. He'd told Lior to wait in the lobby. The security guard knew them well enough to watch him.
At the sound of Eli's voice, Lior looked up.
The man standing before him wore round glasses and a neatly buttoned shirt, collar fastened tight like he was holding something in. His smile was soft, but his eyes were sharp.
Eli froze a moment, caught by the boy's gaze. Slate-grey eyes, with a faint violet undertone. Just like his own.
"You're alone?" Eli asked gently. "Where's your papa?"
Lior didn't answer. He only stared back, quiet and curious, as if he were reading the lines of Eli's face.
"We've met before," Eli said, crouching slightly. "I'm Eli. What's your name?"
He offered his hand.
Lior didn't take it. Didn't speak. Just studied him.
Eli's smile didn't falter. Smart kid. Doesn't trust easily. Good. He'll need that.
"I work with your papa," Eli said, voice low, careful. "I live here too."
Still no response.
He lowered himself onto the sofa beside Lior, unhurried.
The boy flinched—just a small shift, edging away, the squeak of his sneaker against the marble betraying him.
Eli leaned back, putting space between them. He didn't push. Didn't speak.
He just stayed. Quiet. Present.
When Riven finally walked into the lobby, breath slightly rushed, he stopped short.
Eli and Lior. Side by side. Not talking. Just… existing.
Riven's eyes softened.
Eli turned his head and met his gaze, a small, unreadable smile curving at his lips.
That's your son, it said. And he's perfect.
"Papa!" Lior burst up from the sofa as if he'd been waiting hours.
Eli blinked—Riven hadn't even reached the doors yet. But the boy was already smiling, eyes lit like he could feel him coming.
Sharp instincts, Eli realized. For someone so young.
Was that why he hadn't spoken? Had he sensed Eli holding something back?
A heartbeat later, Riven stepped through the glass doors—calm, composed—but his eyes flicked to Eli, then back to Lior, and something in his expression shifted.
Lior didn't wait. He ran straight to his papa, arms flung around his neck as if it had been days instead of minutes.
Riven crouched to catch him, smiling softly. "Did I keep you waiting?"
Lior shook his head, clinging tighter.
"Thanks for staying with him," Riven said, straightening but keeping a hand on Lior's shoulder.
Eli's nod was small, his voice quieter still. "Good instincts. He didn't say a word."
Riven's gaze stayed steady. "He doesn't talk to people he doesn't trust."
Another pause. Eli inclined his head, thoughtful. "Smart kid."
Riven's mouth curved—pride flickering at the corner of his lips. That quiet kind only a parent could wear.
"Papa, let's go home," Lior tugged.
Riven turned, then glanced back at Eli. "We'll head up—"
"We're on the same floor," Eli said simply. "I'll walk with you."
Eli hadn't expected the glare. Sharp. Protective. Territorial.
For a second, he almost laughed. So that's how it is. Endearing. And infuriating. Lior could stake his claim without hesitation. Eli couldn't.
Riven didn't object, so the three of them walked toward the elevator. Lior pressed close to his papa, keeping his small body angled like a shield, eyes never leaving Eli—as if daring him to step closer.
Inside the lift, they arranged themselves without speaking. Riven in the middle. Lior on one side, hand clutched tight around his father's. Eli on the other, the distance between them small but impossible.
"Hey," Riven said softly, catching the tension in his son's stare. His gaze flicked to Eli, then back to Lior. "It's okay. He's a friend. He works with Papa."
Lior's grip loosened, fraction by fraction. His gaze softened—barely. Enough.
Eli watched, chest tight. "He really cares about you," he murmured.
Riven gave a quiet smile. "It's just the two of us. He's always been like that."
Eli nodded, but the thought lodged anyway: He gets to protect you out loud.
I only stand in the shadows.
The ache of it was sharp, edged with risk. Wanting this much was dangerous.
Riven's eyes lingered on him a beat too long—as though he'd caught something unspoken—but then the elevator chimed, doors sliding open.
The moment broke.