"Are you going to tell Lucas?"
"What do you want to tell me?" Lucas asked.
He was leaning into the doorframe as if he belonged there, and he had a calm expression on his face that never indicated peace. It meant someone had tried to keep something from him and failed.
Trevor was at his back, close enough to be a shadow and a wall at the same time, all quiet menace and expensive restraint. On Lucas's other side, Sebastian hovered with the look of a man who had wandered into the wrong room at the right time, curiosity sharp and unrepentant.
For a heartbeat, the office went still.
Even Ethan stopped performing.
Sirius didn't move. He didn't react like someone caught. He reacted like someone who had been expecting this moment since dawn.
Lucius's jaw tightened, anger flashing again, at the timing, at the universe, at the fact Caelan could still manage to twist a knife from the grave.
"Lucas," Sirius said, voice measured.
