Breakfast and Misdirection

Chapter Five: “Breakfast and Misdirection”

The office smelled like roasted coffee and ruthless efficiency.

Sabrina stepped inside, clutching the morning file as the door clicked shut behind her. She didn’t have to look twice to find him—Valen Antonov was seated at the end of a sleek table, bathed in cold light pouring through the towering windows.

He was eating breakfast. Clean, disciplined, not a single bite wasted.

Black shirt. Hair still slightly damp from a shower. The kind of handsomeness that didn’t try, just was.

She crossed the room, heels silent on polished floors, and set the report down beside his plate.

“Good morning,” she said calmly.

“Mm.” He didn’t look up, just flipped a page in the file. “You’re early.”

“I like to be thorough.”

He took a sip of coffee, eyes still on the document. “So I’ve noticed.”

A pause. Then, without lifting his gaze: “Still wearing the necklace.”

Sabrina’s fingers touched the silver cross at her collar almost unconsciously.

“Should I not be?”

His eyes lifted—sharp, unreadable. “I’m not interested in symbols. Only in whether the people around me are who they claim to be.”

“I understand,” she said simply.

And she did.

Because this man had been betrayed. Probably more than once. And by people who looked just as trustworthy.

Still, he closed the file and pushed it aside, nodding slightly.

“You were right about the projection loss,” he said. “Good catch. Most wouldn’t have flagged that.”

Sabrina gave a soft smile. “I’m not most people.”

“No,” he said, watching her. “You’re not.”

Something flickered in his eyes then—not suspicion. Not yet.

Just curiosity, veiled by calculation.

And maybe... just maybe... a question he didn’t know how to ask.

She stood straighter. Controlled. Clean. Every word measured.

“Would you like me to compile the full department audit?”

Valen looked at her for a long second, then gave a single nod.

“Do it. And Sophia?”

“Yes?”

He leaned back slightly, coffee mug in hand.

"Keep the necklace, it suits you."

From the security booth three floors down, Zephyre could see the reflection of her silhouette in the glass.

Sabrina. Standing straight in front of Antonov, all grace and quiet fire.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying. But he didn’t need to.

He saw the way Valen looked at her—cool, calculated… interested.

And worse, he saw how she didn’t flinch.

That was the part that got to him.

Sabrina was always sharp, always composed. But something about the way she stood in front of him—not tense, not guarded—unsettled Zephyre more than he wanted to admit.

What if he’s not the one?

The question slid into his brain like poison.

What if Valen Antonov wasn’t their monster?

What if the real criminal was still out there—and they were dragging an innocent man into ruin?

Worse: what if Sabrina realized that too?

Zephyre leaned back from the monitor, jaw tight, heart heavy. His mind spiraled.

She was getting close. Closer than either of them had planned.

And what if—God, what if—it wasn’t just the mission?

What if he—the broken boy in her shadow—wasn’t the one she’d choose?

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