I woke up abruptly to the sound of raised voices in the next room.
Calyx.
The grogginess clung to me, but instinct shoved it aside. My heart pounded as I pushed off the bed and moved toward the door, my body still heavy with exhaustion.
As soon as I stepped out, my eyes locked onto Calyx. He stood stiffly near his desk, his posture rigid, his expression a volatile mix of frustration and something else—something dangerously close to fear.
Opposite him stood a man I had never seen before.
Tall. Broad. Older than Calyx by at least a decade, but with a presence that demanded attention. His stance was relaxed, almost casual, yet there was something inherently unsettling about the way he carried himself. And then there was his smirk—a slow, knowing curve of his lips as his gaze flicked toward me.
Calyx and the man turned as I entered.
The man's smirk widened.
"Get out!" Calyx barked, his voice sharp and unyielding. He grabbed the man's arm, shoving him toward the door, but the stranger didn't move. If anything, he looked amused, like Calyx's resistance was nothing more than an entertaining inconvenience.
"Who is he, Calyx?" I asked, confusion twisting tight in my chest.
Where were the guards? How had this man gotten inside? The security outside was supposed to be airtight—no one got in without Calyx's explicit consent. Or mine.
Yet here he was. Standing like he belonged.
Calyx's eyes flicked to me, dark with warning. "Severa, stay back."
I ignored him, taking a slow, measured step forward.
I wasn't armed. My gun was still locked in the car. But I wasn't defenseless.
The man turned his attention fully to me, his gaze dragging over me in open assessment. "So, you're still together," he mused. His voice was smooth, deliberate, but there was an edge to it—something that sent a prickle down my spine.
My fists curled at my sides. "Who the hell are you?"
Calyx moved swiftly, stepping in front of me, blocking my path. "Just leave," he ground out, voice taut—strained.
And that set off alarms in my head.
Calyx never pleaded.
Not with anyone. Not even me.
The stranger's smirk remained, unbothered. He took a slow step back, slipping his hands into his pockets like he had all the time in the world.
"You haven't told her, have you?" His gaze flickered to Calyx, eyes gleaming with something I didn't like. "How unlike you."
"Told me what?" I demanded.
Calyx was silent.
The man chuckled. "Alexander Lockhorst," he introduced himself smoothly. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Severa."
I stiffened.
Lockhorst.
I turned to Calyx, my pulse hammering.
The only people I knew with that name were my soon-to-be ex-husband, Calyxander Lockhorst, and Kaiser Sven Lockhorst—his cousin.
But there were no other Lockhorsts.
So how—?
The weight of Alexander's gaze lingered on me, like he was waiting for something—for the realization to click into place.
And then Calyx spoke, his voice low, reluctant.
"He's my father."
The words slammed into me like a blow.
I blinked. Once. Twice.
Then I let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "That's not possible."
Calyx said nothing.
My stomach twisted. My mind raced.
Calyx's father was dead.
His name was Calibre.
Not Alexander.
But if this man was standing here, claiming to be his father—then that meant—
I sucked in a sharp breath, my voice quieter now but no less demanding. "Calyx, what the hell is going on?"
Calyx finally turned to me, his expression unreadable.
"I'll explain later."
"Later?" My voice was sharp with disbelief. "No. You don't get to drop that kind of bombshell and tell me to wait."
Alexander hummed in amusement. "She's sharp," he remarked. "I like her."
I snapped my glare back to him, patience hanging by a thread. "Why are you here?"
His smirk deepened. "I just wanted to see you with my own eyes. See what kind of woman has Calyx so tangled."
I clenched my jaw. "If you have something to say, say it."
Alexander chuckled, but the sound made my skin crawl. "In due time," he murmured. Then, turning to Calyx, he added, "I'll be in touch."
And just like that, he moved toward the door.
I expected him to leave without another word, but instead, he paused at the threshold, glancing back over his shoulder.
"Oh, and Calyx…" His smirk turned razor-sharp. "You really should've told her sooner."
Then he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind him, but the tension in the room remained suffocating.
I turned sharply to Calyx. "What the hell was that?"
Calyx exhaled, pressing his fingers against his temples, like he was fighting off an oncoming headache.
I stepped forward, my voice tight. "Calyx, your father's name was Calibre. You told me that. You told me he died when you were young."
Calyx stayed silent.
My chest constricted. "Tell me you weren't lying."
Slowly, he met my gaze.
And when he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"I thought he was dead, Severa."
And just like that, the ground beneath me shifted.