Rain slammed against the windows of Lena's apartment, blurring the city lights into a smeared canvas of gold and gray.
She sat cross-legged on the couch, sketchpad forgotten beside her, every nerve drawn tight.
He hadn't called.
Not since that day at the site.
Not since Emilia.
The name echoed in her mind like a crack in glass — silent, dangerous, inevitable.
Lena told herself not to care.
But caring was no longer optional.
She was in too deep — not just with the house, but with him.
And if Alexander couldn't trust her with his past, how could she trust him with her heart?
Her phone buzzed. She didn't have to look.
She already knew.
Alexander.
She stared at the screen for a long moment before answering.
"Hi."
"You sound tired," he said softly.
"I am," she replied, and didn't bother to hide it.
Another pause.
"Lena... I need to see you."
She bit her lip. "Not tonight."
"Then I'm coming to you."
"Alexander—"
"I won't stay long. I just… please."
And because she still wanted to believe, she whispered, "Okay."
He arrived twenty minutes later, rain dripping from his coat, his hair damp, eyes dark with something unreadable.
He didn't try to kiss her.
Instead, he held out a small black notebook, worn at the edges.
"This was hers," he said.
Lena stared at it, not touching.
"Emilia?"
He nodded, jaw tight. "My sister."
The floor shifted beneath her.
"I—what?"
"Half-sister," he said, stepping into the room like the words cost him something. "We grew up in different countries. Different lives. But she was the only family I had left. Until two years ago."
He set the notebook on the table gently, like it was made of glass.
"She overdosed. Her boyfriend left her in a hotel suite and walked away. I didn't find out until too late."
Lena's throat closed.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered.
Alexander didn't look at her. His voice was low, flat. "I blamed myself. I still do. She called me that night. I was in a boardroom. I ignored it."
Lena's hand covered her mouth.
"Since then," he continued, "I've been… trying to fix things. Buying people out. Tracking down the man who left her. I couldn't save her, but I could at least make sure he didn't destroy anyone else."
"And Emilia...?"
"She shows up in memories. In deals I have to make with people she once knew. That call you saw? It wasn't her. It was someone from her old life. Blackmailing me."
Lena stared at him, stunned. "Why didn't you tell me?"
He looked at her then — eyes raw, open.
"Because I didn't want you to see the part of me that's angry. That's cruel when I need to be. I wanted to keep you in the light."
She stepped forward slowly, the distance closing like the space between two crashing stars.
"You don't get to choose which parts of you I love," she whispered.
He reached for her hand — and this time, she didn't pull away.
"I'm not perfect," he said. "But I swear, Lena, I'm trying to be honest now. With you."
She looked down at their joined hands, her chest a hurricane of feeling.
"I don't want your perfection," she said. "I want your truth."
He let out a long breath, like something inside him finally loosened.
Then, so softly she almost didn't hear it:
"I'm scared, Lena. Of building something that could fall apart again."
She leaned in, forehead resting against his.
"Then we build it slow. Brick by brick."
He closed his eyes, and this time, when he kissed her, it wasn't a question.
It was a vow.
And Lena kissed him back — not because she had no doubts.
But because love wasn't about certainty.
It was about choosing someone… even when the foundation still shook beneath your feet.