7:FlickersOfAshes
1597 Words
“He's not in today, Miss Sinclair."
Alessia blinked, fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. "Excuse me?"
Theo Lennox's secretary, a polished woman in her mid-forties, barely looked up from her screen. "Mr. Lennox is unavailable."
Unavailable.
That was an odd choice of words.
Theo Lennox was always available—especially when it came to his projects. Especially when someone was standing in his way.
Alessia hadn’t come here for pleasantries. She’d come for a fight.
An hour ago, her boss, Edmund, had dropped a file onto her desk, his expression grim. “I told you he doesn’t play fair.”
According to the report, residents in the neighborhood Theo planned to bulldoze were suddenly facing a series of… inconveniences.
Water shortages.
Sudden increases in utility bills.
A delay in necessary road repairs.
Minor things—things easy to dismiss as bureaucratic failures. But when pieced together, it looked calculated. Designed to make life unbearable until the people had no choice but to leave.
She had stormed out of the office, fully prepared to call him out on it. To throw his ruthless tactics in his face.
But now, he wasn’t here.
She should have felt relieved. Instead, something twisted in her stomach.
Theo never missed meetings, let alone on a day as critical as this.
Her gaze flickered to his office door. Closed. Silent.
It felt wrong.
Alessia exhaled sharply, turning on her heel. Fine. If he wanted to play games, she’d wait. But when she saw him again, he was going to have a hell of a time explaining himself.
~~~
Theo stared at the bruise on his forehead, the purplish mark stark against his skin.
The hospital room was quiet, save for the steady beep of a monitor. A stark contrast to the chaos that had landed him here.
The glass.
The fall.
The blood on his fingers.
His security team had found him, unconscious, after hearing the crash. By the time he’d come to, he was in an ambulance, the details hazy.
It wasn’t the first time his body had failed him. Wouldn’t be the last.
The door creaked open.
A soft knock. Then, the door swung open.
Eveline Vaughn.
Her long coat trailed behind her, the deep crimson making her look like she had just stepped out of some forbidden novel. She smelled like expensive perfume and a well-played game of chess.
“You look like hell,” she mused, setting her bag down on the chair.
Theo didn’t bother responding. His hand, almost absently, reached for his phone. He didn’t even realize what he was doing until his screen lit up.
Nothing.
His jaw tightened. He turned the device face-down on the bed beside him, forcing himself to ignore the flicker of disappointment that made no sense.
Eveline studied him. Too closely.
“You had an attack, didn’t you?”
He didn’t answer.
Which, of course, was an answer.
She crossed her arms. “Well, good to see you’re alive, darling.”
Theo ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me you have something.” He changed the topic, having no interest in talking about his health. Not like it would change anything.
She smirked. “No ‘thank you for visiting me in my time of need’?”
He arched a brow. “If I say it, will you get to the point?”
Eveline chuckled. There was a pause. Then— “Whoever broke into your penthouse? They don’t exist.”
His grip tightened. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” She said slowly, “I ran everything. Camera footage, security logs, background checks.”
He raised an eyebrow, and then she sighed, leaning against the wall. “No traces. No leaks. No triggered security. Whoever he is, he’s not just some opportunist looking to rattle your security. I ruled out the insider job theory.”
He exhaled and stood, walking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. “You said the intruder passed through security without triggering anything. That’s not possible.”
“Not unless they knew how to bypass your system,” she agreed. “Which means they had resources, intelligence, or…”
He narrowed his eyes. “Or what?”
She took a deep breath. “Or they weren’t breaking in at all.”
A pause.
Theo turned sharply. “You think they were invited?”
“I think,” she said slowly, “you should start considering that this isn’t just an enemy, Theo.”
She let the words hang.
Not just an enemy.
Someone closer. Someone who wasn’t attacking him—yet—but watching.
And waiting.
He was silent for a long moment. Then, softly, “He’s underestimating me.”
“And what do you plan to do? Or what next action do you want me to carry?” Her voice took on a dangerous edge. “Quit the screen and find him another way?”
He kept silent. He knew what she meant. Eveline wasn't just a hacker. She was a skilled spy who didn't mind getting blood on her hands to get what she wanted.
But not yet.
He exhaled. “Continue monitoring for now. I'll ensure tighter security at the penthouse.”
He walked back to the bed. His fingers had drifted back toward his phone—like a bad habit.
He stopped himself before picking it up.
Eveline noticed. She always noticed.
“So… are you expecting a call or something?”
Theo’s brows furrowed before glancing at the dark-haired woman. “What?”
She gestured lazily at his phone. “You keep checking it. Thought maybe you were waiting for something important.”
He gave a slight scoff. “No.”
A lie.
He knew it. She knew it.
Eveline studied him, her dark gaze sharp. Then, her lips curled.
“Oh. I see.” She tapped a manicured nail against the chair. “It’s that person, isn’t it?”
Theo didn’t react.
But that, once again, in itself, was a reaction.
Her smirk widened. “That someone who’s been opposing your project.”
She hadn’t phrased it as a question.
His grip tightened on the sheets. “Stay out of it.”
Then he moved away from the bed once again.
Eveline hummed, unconvinced. “Funny.” Her voice was light, but there was a dangerous undercurrent beneath it. “I’ve known you a long time, Theo. Long enough to know when something—someone—is in your head.”
She tilted her head slightly. “And I think you hate it.”
He didn’t respond.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
“I should see the doctor.” He looked up at her almost immediately. “You don't have to follow me.”
She watched him carefully in response. “You’re not telling me something.”
“I don’t need to tell you anything.”
She hummed, unconvinced. “Then why don’t you want me following you to the doctor?”
His expression remained blank. “Because I’m fine.”
Her laughter was soft but sharp. “You’re a terrible liar, Theo.”
He didn’t reply. Just stood, grabbed his coat, and walked out.
---
The doctor’s office smelled of antiseptic and old paper.
Dr. Calloway barely looked up as Theo entered. “Take a seat, Mr Lennox.”
Theo did.
The doctor closed the file in front of him. “It’s been years since you’ve had an episode like this. And now, suddenly, you collapse? What changed?”
Theo leaned back. “Nothing.”
Calloway gave him a long, knowing look. “Theo.”
He exhaled, but said nothing.
The doctor studied him for a moment before tapping the edge of the desk. “Your body reacts to what your mind won’t acknowledge. Something triggered this.”
Theo remained silent.
“Your past is not as far away as you like to pretend,” Calloway continued. “You think if you ignore it long enough, it will stop chasing you. But the mind doesn’t work that way.”
Theo clenched his jaw.
His gaze drifted to the bookshelf behind Calloway’s desk. A row of medical journals, a few awards—and a framed photograph.
A house. Or at least, what was left of it.
Burned. Blackened.
Destroyed.
Something coiled tight in his chest.
Calloway followed his gaze, then spoke carefully. “You still can’t talk about it, can you?”
Theo forced his expression into neutrality. “It’s irrelevant.”
“You collapsed in your penthouse. It’s very relevant.”
Theo turned away.
Calloway sighed. “I’ll ask again. What changed?”
Theo’s fingers curled into his palms.
A voice echoed in his mind. ‘It’s not just about buildings, Mr. Lennox.’
A woman’s voice. Alessia.
A sharp exhale left his lips.
Calloway caught the shift in his expression. “Theo?”
But Theo was already standing. “I’m fine.”
The doctor gave him a look that said he knew that was a lie. But he let him go.
For now.
~~~
Theo stepped into the hallway, and almost immediately, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
A flicker of something—hope?—rose in his chest before he could shove it down.
He pulled it out, glancing at the screen.
Not her.
Instead, a text from one of his security officers.
His jaw tightened. He forced himself to focus.
There is an issue going on, sir. You need to see this.
His grip tightened around the device.
Business first.
Everything else—everything he refused to name—could wait.
***
- Writer
