[Cassian’s POV]

The tension in Adrian’s shoulders when he walks through the door tells me something is wrong before he says a word.

I’m at the stove, finishing the stir-fry I’ve been preparing, but I turn down the heat and set aside the spatula the moment I see his face. Sophie is on the couch, her feet up, a book resting on her belly that rises and falls with each breath. She looks up too, her instincts clearly reading the same signals I’m catching.

“What happened?” I ask, not bothering with preamble.

Adrian sets down his bag and runs both hands through his hair—a gesture I’ve come to recognize as his primary stress response. He’s pale beneath his usual complexion, and there’s a tightness around his mouth that suggests he’s been clenching his jaw for some time.

“I ran into Vaughn,” he says. “On the subway. She was… waiting for me, I think. Or at least, it didn’t feel like a coincidence.”

Sophie’s sharp intake of breath is audible from across the room. She swings her legs off the couch and sits up straighter, her book forgotten.

“What did she say?” I ask, keeping my voice calm even as my mind begins cataloging implications and potential responses.

Adrian recounts the conversation in detail—Vaughn’s appearance, her comments about his new job, the veiled accusations and subtle condescension. I listen carefully, noting not just the words but the context, trying to piece together what her strategy might be.

“She’s testing you,” I conclude when he finishes. “Probing to see how you’ll react. Whether you’re still afraid of her.”

“I cannot believe this! I don’t care about me, she managed to find where I work now, what will happen when she—,” Adrian looks at me, and then at my tummy, “I’m scared of her,” he admits, the confession clearly costing him something.

“Not of her personally, but of what she can do. She’s already sabotaged one opportunity. What’s to stop her from targeting the consulting firm too?”

“The consulting firm isn’t part of her network,” Sophie points out. “That’s the whole point. She can whisper to academics all she wants, but Okonkwo doesn’t operate in those circles.”

“Not yet. But Vaughn is resourceful. If she really wants to hurt me, she’ll find a way.”

The fear in his voice is palpable, and I understand it. I’ve seen enough of Lisette Vaughn’s handiwork to know she’s not someone who gives up easily. The question is what we do about it.

“We have options,” I say slowly, my analytical mind working through possibilities. “We could try to document what she’s doing, build a case for harassment. We could go public, make her behavior visible enough that it becomes costly for her to continue. Or we could simply ignore her and hope she loses interest.”

“None of those options are great,” Adrian says tiredly.

“No. But they’re what we have.”

Sophie rises from the couch and crosses to where we’re standing, inserting herself between us with a determination that brooks no argument. Her belly presses against my hip as she reaches for Adrian’s hand.

“Before we decide anything, I need you to hear something,” she says, her voice steady despite the emotion I can see in her eyes. “Whatever Vaughn does or doesn’t do, it doesn’t change what we have. Our family, our daughter, the life we’re building—that’s real. That’s solid. She can make your professional life difficult, but she can’t touch this. Not unless we let her.”

Adrian looks at her for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. The tension doesn’t disappear, but it seems to ease slightly, replaced by something softer.

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