Chapter 219: 220 | A Question of Ownership
We walked back to the main campus together. Usagi kept pace beside me, her shoulder brushing mine every few steps. Not an accident. Definitely not an accident.
"So the hickeys."
"What about them?"
"The girl with the horns. She did those?"
"Her name is Mera." I rubbed the side of my neck where the marks were most visible. "And yes."
"She’s pretty."
"She knows."
Usagi laughed. Her ears bounced with the sound. "The other one. Blue hair. Very serious expression. She was standing in your kitchen like she owned the place."
"Cheon. And she basically does own the place at this point. She reorganized my entire apartment within two days of staying over."
"Staying over." Usagi’s voice carried a note of amusement. "That’s what we’re calling it."
"What would you call it?"
"I’d call it what it is." She glanced up at me. Her pink eyes caught the morning light. "You’re building something. A team. A family. Whatever you want to name it. Those women are part of it."
"They are."
"And you want me to be part of it too."
I stopped walking.
She stopped with me.
The training field was behind us now. The main campus buildings rose ahead. Students moved between structures in the early morning rush. Normal people living normal lives with normal problems.
"I want you to have the choice." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "I’m not going to pretend I don’t need people. I do. My ability requires it. But I won’t lie to you about what that means."
"What does it mean?"
"It means I’m always going to be complicated. I’m always going to have connections that go beyond friendship. And anyone who gets close to me is going to have to accept that they’re sharing space with others who got close first."
Usagi’s ears twitched. Her tail swished behind her.
"That’s honest."
"I’m trying to be."
"Most guys would promise exclusivity they can’t deliver." She started walking again. I fell into step beside her. "They’d say whatever they thought you wanted to hear. Make commitments they knew they’d break."
"I’m not most guys."
"No." Her voice softened. "You’re really not."
We reached the edge of the main courtyard. Students flowed around us. Some recognized me. More recognized her. The pink-haired girl with the rabbit ears drew attention anywhere she went.
"Lunch." She stopped at the junction where our paths would split. "Twelve thirty. The café near the west gate. You’re paying."
"I lost the bet."
"You did." Her smile was sharp. Playful. "And Rome?"
"Yeah?"
"Bring your explanations. All of them." She reached up. Touched my jaw with her fingertips. Light contact. Barely there. But I felt my drain stir at the connection. Reaching for her Essentia. Tasting the edges of what made her fast and strong and dangerous in ways I was only beginning to understand. "I want to know everything."
Then she was gone.
Disappeared into the crowd of students with a speed that reminded me why I’d lost our match.
I watched her go.
My phone buzzed.
Mera: training done?
Rome: just finished. heading back now.
Mera: good. cheon found something. you need to see it.
That didn’t sound good.
I started walking faster.
The penthouse was fifteen minutes from campus if I took the direct route. I made it in twelve. My legs still ached from the training session. My ribs protested where Usagi’s kick had landed. But the message from Mera carried an urgency I couldn’t ignore.
When I stepped through the door, Cheon was waiting.
She sat at the kitchen island with her tablet propped in front of her. Multiple screens displayed across the surface. Data streams. Surveillance footage. A timeline marked with red flags at irregular intervals.
"Close the door."
I closed it.
"Sit down."
I sat.
Mera emerged from the bedroom. Her expression was wrong. None of the usual playfulness. None of the sharp humor that made her dangerous and beautiful in equal measure.
"What happened?"
Cheon turned the tablet toward me.
On the screen was a photograph. Grainy. Taken from a distance. But clear enough to make out the figures in the frame.
Vivian D’Angelo standing outside a coffee shop.
Talking to a man in a grey suit.
A man I recognized.
"That’s Marcus Wei." My voice sounded distant. Like someone else was speaking. "He’s my father’s head of security."
"We know." Cheon’s fingers moved across the tablet. Another photograph appeared. Same location. Different angle. "This was taken three days ago. Before Vivian reached out to you. Before she warned you about the surveillance and the blood samples and everything else."
I stared at the screen.
Three days ago.
Before she came to the club. Before she told me about the laboratory. Before she offered to help me fight our father.
"She’s playing both sides."
"We don’t know that." Mera’s voice was careful. Measured in a way that told me she’d already processed this information and reached her own conclusions. "She could have been meeting with him under duress. She could have been feeding him false information. She could have been—"
"She could have been telling him everything." I finished the sentence. "Everything I said. Everything I asked. Every plan we discussed."
Silence.
The photographs stared back at me from the tablet screen. Vivian’s face was partially visible. Her expression unreadable. The man beside her was saying something. His lips caught mid-word.
"The meeting." Cheon pulled up another set of images. "Noel is supposed to meet Vivian in four hours. If Vivian is compromised—"
"Then Noel walks into a trap."
"Maybe."
"Or maybe Vivian is exactly what she claims to be and these photographs have a perfectly reasonable explanation." Mera moved to stand behind me. Her hand settled on my shoulder. Warm through my shirt. Grounding. "She’s your sister. She grew up in the same house. She knows what your father is capable of. Maybe she’s doing exactly what she said. Playing a dangerous game to get free."
"Or maybe she’s playing a dangerous game to keep herself in our father’s good graces." I couldn’t look away from the photographs. "Family means nothing to people like us. You know that. I know that. Our father certainly knows it."
