Chapter 96: The In Cube

The blend was subtle.

Woody. Citrus. Warm and clean.

Something warm intertwined with a darker, deeper note she couldn't quite identify. Not an aggressive or artificial cologne — more like a presence. An elegant scent that seemed naturally his and became frankly problematic whenever one stood less than a meter away from him.

Which was currently her case.

Wonderful.

Her heartbeat immediately decided to lose whatever dignity it still possessed.

Blanche was no better.

And, for once, she knew it.

She had spent far too long hesitating in front of her mirror before finally putting together an outfit that made her feel elegant, adult... and not completely ridiculous standing next to Kiyan.

Her forest-green tights lengthened her legs beneath high-waisted black silk shorts that contrasted beautifully with the apple-green blouse tucked into them. The color highlighted the pallor of her skin as well as the natural intensity of her red hair, emphasized even more by the long high braid falling down her back.

Her makeup had also required an unusual amount of effort.

A precise line of eyeliner accentuated her pale eyes while shimmering green eyeshadow subtly caught the light whenever she moved. Nothing excessive. Just enough to enhance her eyes without losing the simple elegance she preferred.

Over everything, her black wool jacket with white plaid patterns gave her an almost sophisticated look, made even stronger by the dark thigh-high boots clicking softly against the floor when she walked.

And the fine immaculate scarf completed the whole outfit.

Blanche had even looked at herself twice before leaving.

Which practically qualified as a miracle.

The problem was that the moment she saw Kiyan, she immediately felt as though all her efforts had vanished into an emotional black hole.

Because he was looking at her.

Really looking at her.

His gaze briefly traveled over her outfit before returning to her eyes with that calm intensity already sufficient to make her forget her own name.

She looked as though she had stepped out of a fashion magazine.

"You look very elegant today," he said simply.

That was it.

May Blanche Callahan rest in peace.

Deceased on the spot at 3:03 PM.

"We didn't see you last night," she accused once she resurrected. "Insomnia?"

Kiyan grunted. Without a single dark circle under his eyes — the worst part.

"It's your fault," he murmured.

"Excuse me?" Blanche asked, convinced she had misheard him.

"Nothing," he muttered.

He waited for a red light before continuing without looking at her.

He even seemed to be avoiding her gaze.

"I didn't want my alter ego taking more liberties than he already has," he admitted with a slight clearing of his throat.

Blanche flushed crimson.

Since when was he this direct?

Not that she was complaining... but between Saphir and him, she seriously needed self-control.

The entire drive, she fought to focus on the voice of the mysterious musician playing on the radio.

At least, thanks to Kiyan's stolen glances and the fluctuations in his aura — despite his impassive mask — she knew she wasn't the only one suffering.

She was finally perceiving his entire personality.

And honestly, it made her dangerously happy.

Since the awakening of her ability, Blanche had only glimpsed fragments within Kiyan. A few isolated shades. Fleeting bursts of color appearing briefly before vanishing again, as though something inside him remained constantly locked behind a carefully sealed door.

But today...

Today, his aura finally seemed complete.

Or at least open enough for her to truly observe it.

And her greatest pleasure was probably discovering that she had not entirely fantasized his personality.

Powder pink appeared first.

Soft.

Subtle.

Almost delicate in the way it drifted around him in discreet waves.

Not a loud or naïve pink, no. Something more mature, more muted, evoking restrained tenderness, controlled gentleness, and that elegant romanticism Kiyan seemed to hide beneath endless layers of composure.

But the shade was not innocent either.

At times, brighter glimmers tinted it faintly, almost luminous, revealing a quiet boldness — an ability to seduce or provoke without ever losing the calm mastery that defined him.

Which was profoundly unfair.

Because he somehow managed to be romantic and intimidating at the same time.

Blanche hated how well it worked on her.

Then came ochre.

More stable.

Deeper.

That color radiated caution.

Restraint.

The calculating intelligence of someone accustomed to thinking before every gesture, every word, every decision. But there was something else within that warm and elegant hue: a kind of natural refinement.

Kiyan seemed incapable of being careless.

Even his silences felt deliberately chosen.

The ochre flowed gently through his aura like some noble material — reassuring without becoming cold, sophisticated without true arrogance.

Then she saw the milk chocolate.

And her heart made the very poor decision to accelerate immediately.

The color was denser.

Warmer.

It moved beneath the other shades like something more intimate, harder to perceive at first glance.

Passion.

Desire.

Mystery.

Everything he kept buried beneath his perfectly controlled exterior seemed to live there, in those rich velvety brown reflections pulsing softly around him.

Blanche remained silent for a few seconds.

Because that color was probably the most dangerous of all.

It revealed that beyond the elegant, cautious professor existed someone intense. Someone capable of feeling deeply — perhaps even violently — while carefully refusing to show it.

And honestly?

It made him even more attractive.

Wonderful.

Exactly what she needed.

Falling in love with an emotionally complex man whose aura colors resembled an expensive romantic dessert.

Her brain was truly beyond saving.

Delicious.

He was so complex... and yet so utterly Kiyan.

If he had noticed her new earring, he made no comment about it.

He parked in the lot of a club empty at this hour, though clearly destined to fill once night fell.

"Seriously?" Blanche murmured while reading the club's name.

In Cube.

"Let's say it's more of a cover, even if the business itself runs very well," he replied.

"It's a nightclub?" she guessed.

"Half. The other half is a private sex club," Kiyan admitted.

"I suppose everyone needs money to survive," she answered, leaning over to open the door.

But Kiyan stopped her.

"Before we go in... I need to explain how I found your father."

His tone left no room for refusal.

Intrigued, Blanche paused mid-motion, settled back into her seat, and waited.