Chapter 133
Chapter 133:
“Is everything alright?” he heard Aurora ask. Her voice drifted over the low hum of conversation.
“Fine,” Elias replied. His tone was clipped, suspicious. “Just a reflection p>
Xander didn’t wait to hear more. He scurried toward the lobby, staying low, dodging a confused busboy. He burst out onto the sidewalk, gasping for air.
He looked at his phone. The photo was blurry, slightly obscured by a leaf, but it was undeniable. Elias Thorne, holding a crab leg, looking at Aurora Vance like she was the only source of oxygen in the universe.
He hit send.
Three seconds later, his phone buzzed.
Leo: That’s Photoshop.
Xander typed back furiously.
Xander: It is NOT. I almost died getting this. Look at the juice on his thumb, Leo. Zoom in!
Leo: Uncle Elias doesn’t do acts of service. He hires people to do acts of service.
Xander: I’m telling you, man. He’s gone. He’s deep in it.
Leo: No way. He’s just… grateful she saved his life with the needles. It’s a debt.
Xander: I bet you a hundred grand he’s in love with her.
The typing bubble appeared for a long time. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.
Leo: You’re on. Easy money. He’s a robot, Xander. Robots don’t fall in love.
Xander looked back at the restaurant window. He could just make out the top of Elias’s head.
“This one does,” Xander whispered to the street. “This one definitely does p>
The penthouse was silent, save for the hum of the air filtration system. Elias Thorne walked into his library and closed the heavy oak door. He turned the lock.
𝗧𝗿𝘂𝗲 𝗏𝗲𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖋𝗋𝗈𝗆
He walked to the bookshelf behind his desk, the one that held first editions of Dickens and Hemingway. He pulled on a copy of Great Expectations. The shelf clicked and swung open, revealing a hidden wall safe. He spun the dial. Right, left, right.
The safe popped open. Inside, nestled between stacks of bearer bonds and classified blueprints, was a book with a bright pink cover.
The Art of Courtship: A Modern Guide to Emotional Connection.
Elias took it out as if it were a radioactive isotope. He sat in his leather armchair, the spine of the book cracking slightly. He had read the first three chapters. They were illogical, sentimental drivel.
He turned to Chapter Four.
Acts of Service: The Language of Care.
He began to read. His brow furrowed.
“Small gestures often carry more weight than grand displays,” the text read. “Anticipating a partner’s needs before they voice them creates a sense of safety and being seen. Example: The Morning Commute p>
Elias pulled a highlighter from his pocket. He uncapped it with his teeth—a habit he would never admit to—and marked the paragraph.