CHAPTER 137 - PEER REVIEW

CHAPTER 137 - PEER REVIEW
Bella's POV

My hand was on the doorknob. Cold metal. The laugh upstairs had sounded like someone had a secret and loved it. Then, downstairs, a soft knock. Not heavy. Not a demand. Just a question.

"Bella?" a voice called from below.

I opened the door a crack and peeked down the stairs. Alex stood in the doorway, coat folded over his arm, the street light catching the silver at his temples. He smelled like rain and peppermint.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

"Yes." I kept my voice steady. "Just... checking on Diego. He sounded awake."

Alex's eyes lifted to the dark hallway and then back to me. "I heard laughter," he said. "Made me think of better times."

"Papa made soup," I lied. "There was a joke."

He closed his mouth like he was holding something back. "If you need me to..." He stopped. He did not finish. He never did finish the things that mattered. "Call me."

"Okay." I heard his boots on the porch, then the car start, then the soft click of the gate.

I padded up the stairs. The laugh came again, muffled, inside Diego's room. My heart started to dribble like a loose faucet.

I pushed the door open slowly. The room smelled like cologne and laundry and something that belonged to someone who did not live here all the time. Diego was sitting on the bed, knees hugged, eyes bright and small. Next to him, on a tangle of shirts, a man grinned at me in a way that made my mouth go dry with nerves and something softer.

"This is Lucien," Diego said, the name a piece of treasure he was not ready to hide. "He flew in from New York."

Lucien stood. He was neat, dark hair that fell a little over his forehead, long fingers, and a laugh that sounded like someone telling stories in rooms with good light. He shook my hand. It was warm.

"Nice to meet you," he said. His voice had an edge of city in it. Not loud. Not shy. I noticed the small scar on his knuckle and the way his smile paused when Diego looked at him.

"You should not be here," I said. I did not mean it the way it sounded. I meant that the house was full of ears and glances and that secrets here had weight.

"We are leaving tomorrow," Lucien said. "Just the weekend."

Diego mouthed something that looked like please. His fingers brushed Lucien's hand and then drew back.

A clatter came from the kitchen. Roberto shouted a name. Then he called for Diego.

"Papa is asking for you," I hissed.

Diego's face flinched. "He must not find out," he whispered. "Not yet."

"Then hide." I moved without thinking. "Wardrobe."

Lucien blinked, then laughed softly. "You think I fit in there?"

"Not 'fit,'" Diego said fast. "Hide. Please."

I swung open the wardrobe. Shirts, a box of old school trophies, a row of shoes. Lucien ducked in like he had practiced this exact moment. He crouched. He went quiet. His breath fogged the wood a little.

"Be very quiet," I told him. It sounded like a rule I had made up on the spot.

Downstairs, Roberto's voice lifted up the stairwell, asking about salsa for the next night. The house hummed. My mouth tasted like metal.

I opened the door a crack and stuck my head out. The hallway looked small. Alex's car was gone. The house breathed.

"Diego, can you bring the dessert out?" Roberto called.

Diego swallowed. He moved slowly, carrying the tray like it was a lit candle. He stepped into the hall, looked at me. "Act normal," he mouthed.

"Okay," I mouthed back. My hands were shaking under the weight of the tray.

In the kitchen, Roberto smiled like nothing had happened. He clapped his hands. "Bella, help me with the plates."

I slid a plate into Diego's hands and then, before he could put it down, my phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from Marcus. My thumb hovered above it. I let it rest.

We ate again at the big table. Conversation chewed slowly around us. I watched Lucien's shoes through the gap in the wardrobe door, the pair of dark soles almost invisible. I felt ridiculous being nervous about a pair of shoes. But secrets made you ridiculous.

At one point, Alex's voice came from the front door. He had come back. He sounded close to the kitchen.

"I forgot my scarf," he said. He laughed when Roberto teased him. Then his laugh softened. "Is Diego up?"

"Yes," Roberto said. "He is clearing plates."

Panic tightened my ribs. I could hear Lucien breathing. A quiet sound. He coughed once and then stopped.

"Diego," Alex said, strolling into the hallway like he had all the time in the world. "You okay?"

Diego froze. The tray tilted. Sauce threatened to fall.

"I am fine," Diego said. His hands were a little white around the plate.

Alex's eyes flicked past him to the wardrobe door. "Funny smell of cologne," he said. "Did someone bring a new bottle?"

I felt my face go hot. "Must be part of the delivery," I lied.

Alex smiled. "You all keep secrets these days."

He stepped toward the room, and my heart forgot to beat. I could hear Lucien shift inside the wardrobe, a small scrape.

"Diego, I will be in my study if you need me," Alex said. He paused with his hand on the doorframe as if he might look in. "Tell Isabella thanks for the soup."

"Of course," I heard myself say. My voice shook. "Thanks."

He walked away, and the hallway felt like it had been stitched with thin wire. I waited a full long breath before I turned back to the wardrobe. Lucien's face appeared in the gap like a coin. He looked at me and then at Diego. Relief made him grin.

"We made it," he whispered.

Diego laughed, something cracked and bright. "For now."

The wardrobe door closed slowly and the room felt small and safe and like a living thing. I wanted to stay there and watch them and fold them into a pocket of the house where no one else could reach.

Then, from below, I heard the crunch of tires on the gravel. The sound stopped. A car door closed. Not Alex's. Different. Someone came up the path.

I moved toward the bedroom door. My hand touched the knob. My breath stopped.

A footstep on the stairs was not Diego's. The house went very quiet, as if it were listening too.