With that, the three of them stepped out of the room and into the elevator. Lisa clung tightly to Jeremy's and Yatami's hands, her grip firm, grounding herself against the unease curling in her stomach. She hated elevators. The sensation of descending always made her feel weightless in the worst way.
Soon as the doors slid open with a soft chime, Lisa was the first to rush out, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor as she made a beeline for the company's main exit. Jeremy and Yatami followed at a calmer pace, their expressions unreadable. The automatic doors parted smoothly, and waiting at the curb was their ride, a sleek white Mansory Range Rover.
Its polished surface gleamed under the afternoon sun, reflecting the towering skyline like a mirror. The black accents gave it an undeniable presence of elegance fused with raw power, a car built not just for comfort but for making a statement. It was the kind of vehicle that turned heads and demanded respect without a single word.
Lisa let out a low whistle, crossing her arms. "You really went all out, huh, Dad?"
Jeremy smirked, his sharp eyes twinkling with amusement. "Only the best for my princess… and my prince."
Yatami still. The words struck something deep within him, something unspoken yet profound. He had always been logical, composed of a man of reason more than feeling. But in that simple declaration, he felt something shift. A son. His father's son. I belong here.
Lisa grinned and hopped into the backseat, securing her seatbelt with a satisfied click. Yatami slid into the passenger seat, his movements smooth, instinctive. Jeremy settled into the driver's seat, his fingers resting easily on the wheel before starting the engine. The deep, velvety purr of the car hummed through the air, promising both luxury and power.
They pulled onto the road, the city sprawled before them a breathtaking sea of golden lights shimmering against a clear blue sky. The glass facades of towering skyscrapers gleamed like crystal, reflecting the pulse of life below. The streets were alive with motion: the rhythmic flow of cars, pedestrians moving with purpose, distant laughter spilling from open-air cafés.
Lisa leaned back in her seat, lacing her fingers behind her head, her smile brimming with anticipation.
"Let the fun begin."
★★★
Sophia awoke from her nap feeling refreshed, the weight of sleep melting away as she stretched her arms above her head. The soft quilt pooled around her waist as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet sinking into the plush rug. A contented sigh escaped her lips. The room was bathed in the golden hues of late morning sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the elegant space.
She padded toward the bathroom, the lingering scent of lavender soap from the night before clinging to the air. The cool water against her skin was invigorating, washing away the last remnants of drowsiness. As she dried her face, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror calm, collected, and perfectly composed, just as she had always trained herself to be.
Sophia moved into her expansive walk-in closet, the familiar silence of her thoughts keeping her company. On the left, a large oak wardrobe housed her everyday outfits, neatly arranged by season. She reached for a white, long-sleeved spring, a black chiffon bow tie and paired it with her favorite high-waist lace-up jeans. The denim hugged her frame like a second skin, emphasizing her graceful silhouette.
At the vanity, she applied a touch of makeup with practiced ease just enough to enhance her natural elegance. A hint of blush warmed her cheeks, and soft pink gloss made her lips glisten. With a final sweep of her brush, she styled her hair into loose waves that cascaded down her back. She met her own gaze in the mirror, allowing herself a fleeting smile before turning away.
Crossing the room, she slid open the closet on the right, revealing rows of shoes. Her fingers instinctively reached for her well-worn black and white Taylor high-top Converse. They were a perfect mix of comfort and edge, a reflection of her personality. After lacing them up, she grabbed her phone from the vanity and stepped out of the room.
Descending the spiral staircase, the rich aroma of brewing coffee wrapped around her like an old comfort. Her thoughts drifted to breakfast, mentally listing the possibilities of pancakes, eggs, perhaps something simple. But before she could reach the kitchen, the sharp chime of the doorbell cut through the quiet.
Sophia froze mid-step, her heart giving a startled lurch. She turned toward the front door, a strange unease creeping up her spine. With measured steps, she approached and pulled it open.
Her breath caught.
Yatami stood there.
Tall. Unreadable. His dark eyes locked onto hers, flickering with something she couldn't quite place. He was imposing yet eerily calm, his presence commanding the space as if he belonged. A flicker of something cold passed through her fear, maybe. But she masked it in an instant, her expression smoothing into one of practiced indifference.
"Good morning, Sophia Mom," Yatami greeted, his voice warm, almost too familiar.
Her stomach twisted.
Was Jeremy kidding her? Why did he have to bring the android here? Did he even understand the risk? If the enemy saw him, they were no longer safe.
Sophia straightened, her voice sharpening with urgency. "What are you doing here? Where is Jeremy?"
Her eyes flickered past him, searching, scanning for any sign of her husband.
"I'll call him," she muttered, already pulling out her phone. Her fingers moved swiftly as she dialed, but the faint sound of ringing nearby made her pulse quicken.
Her gaze snapped toward the driveway.
And there he was.
Jeremy. Walking toward the house, his hand wrapped protectively around Lisa's as he guided their daughter out of the car.
Sophia's grip on her phone tightened. The knot in her chest coiled tighter.
Something was wrong.