When Storms Collide

Chapter 6

A week had passed since the Galvez family moved into the estate. To fit both families comfortably, the grand house had undergone a quick renovation. The second and third floors were completely rebuilt to add more bedrooms.

Now, the Reign and Galvez siblings slept on the same levels, their bedroom doors facing each other directly across the long, narrow hallways. This architectural change made the massive house feel incredibly small, packing two dangerous worlds into one tight space.

Tonight was another formal family dinner downstairs, a mandatory gathering ordered by Darius and Catalina to build peace. Everyone was seated at the long mahogany table except for one person.

Lizandra was late.

The dining hall was dead silent. Armando Galvez sat straight, slowly cutting his meat, while Flavio Reign watched him from across the table. The air was heavy with unspoken anger.

"Your guards are moving too close to our rooms on the third floor, Flavio," Armando said smoothly, breaking the quiet. "I do not like my family being watched while they sleep."

Flavio did not look up from his plate. "My guards go where they are needed to keep this house safe. Since our bedrooms face each other now, the hallways are shared space. If your family has nothing to hide, it should not be an issue."

Armando’s jaw tightened. Next to him, Federico Galvez let out a dry, mocking laugh. "Maybe your guards are just curious, Reign. Or maybe they are looking for a fight right outside our doors."

Ambrose Reign set his fork down with a sharp clack. "If we wanted a fight, Federico, you would already be in my clinic. Besides, none of them even enters your rooms"

"Is that a threat?" Federico asked, leaning forward, his painted knuckles tightening into a fist.

"It is a medical fact," Ambrose replied, his voice completely flat and ice-cold.

Federico stood up quickly, his chair scraping loudly against the marble floor. Seeing this, Fabriz Reign stood up too, his hand moving subtly toward his jacket where a hidden blade rested. Miguel Galvez instantly slammed his notebook shut, ready to leap across the table to back up his brother.

"Sit down, all of you!" Catalina ordered, her voice shaking with worry. But the young men were no longer listening to the parents. The built-up anger of the past week was finally spilling over.

Federico stepped away from his chair, moving directly toward Ambrose. But before he could reach him, Fabriz lunged forward. With a fierce glare, Fabriz swung a heavy punch straight toward Federico’s face.

He was fully prepared to break the artist's jaw.

Thud.

The punch never landed.

A sharp, gloved hand suddenly shot out from the shadows near the doorway, catching Fabriz’s wrist tightly mid-air. The grip was like solid iron.

Everyone froze, turning their heads in shock.

Lizandra had finally arrived. She was dressed in a dark, dust-covered trench coat, her long wavy black hair slightly messy from travel. She looked tired, but her eyes were completely sharp and dead calm. With a smooth flick of her wrist, she pushed Fabriz back, forcing her biological brother to take a step away from Federico.

"We do not spill blood over a dinner table," Lizandra said softly, her voice slicing through the heated room like a razor blade. "It ruins the food."

Fabriz stared at his older sister, his chest heaving with anger, but he slowly lowered his hands. Federico took a step back, looking at Lizandra with a mix of surprise and deep caution.

Lizandra didn't say another word about the near-fight. She calmly slipped off her heavy coat, draped it over the back of her empty chair, and sat down as if she hadn't just stopped a war from breaking out. She lifted her wine glass, taking a slow, elegant sip.

"I apologize for being late, Father, Catalina," Lizandra said, looking toward the head of the table. "The traffic coming back into the country was heavy."

Maya Galvez, who had been watching the entire scene with an amused smile, leaned forward. "You look like you've had a busy week, Lizandra. Did you bring us any gifts from your travels?"

Lizandra turned her cold eyes toward Maya. "Only peace, Maya. For now."

The family slowly settled back into their seats, the heavy tension dialed down but still simmering just beneath the surface. Darius cleared his throat, trying to bring order back to the room.

"Now that we are all present," Darius began, his deep voice commanding attention, "we need to discuss the new distribution routes through Spain—"

Bzzzz.

A sharp, vibrating sound cut him off.

It was not a regular phone. It was a secure, encrypted satellite device resting inside Lizandra’s inner jacket pocket. The screen flashed with a bright red warning light—a code red that only meant one thing. A high-priority target had broken through their outermost perimeter.

Lizandra didn't hesitate. She set her wine glass down, the crystal ringing softly against the wood. She stood up from the table, pulling her dark trench coat back over her shoulders.

"Where are you going?" Flavio asked, his brow furrowing. "Father is speaking."

"Work doesn't wait for family meetings, Flavio," Lizandra replied calmly. She looked down at her father, giving him a swift, respectful nod. "A situation has come up at the northern docks. It requires my personal handling."

Catalina looked at her with soft, worried eyes. "But you just got home, Lizandra. You haven't even touched your dinner."

"I eat on the move, Catalina," Lizandra said, her tone polite but entirely distant.

She turned on her heels, her black heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor as she walked away from the warmth of the dining hall.

The Galvez siblings watched her go, completely fascinated and unsettled by her focus. She was like a ghost that belonged to the dark, a weapon that could never truly be kept inside a house.

As the heavy double doors shut loudly behind her, the dining room fell back into a quiet chill. Lizandra was gone again.