Secret projects

Yatami studied her, catching the tension in her posture, the slight stiffness in her tone. He noticed the way her fingers twitched as she clutched her phone, the way she barely met his gaze. But he said nothing. He merely tilted his head slightly, observing.

★★★

Jeremy paused mid-step, his brows furrowing as he reached for his phone. "Hold on," he murmured, glancing at the screen before lifting his gaze toward Sophia. Even from a distance, he could feel the weight of her stare.

Her expression was unreadable, but the way she stood rigid, unmoving told him everything.

Jeremy sighed, pocketing his phone as he approached with careful steps. "Sophia," he started, his voice measured yet laced with guilt. "I'm sorry, dear. I forgot to tell you that Yatami would be coming with us."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Forgot? Or just chose not to tell me?

Without a word, she turned on her heels and walked back inside, leaving the door ajar behind her.

Jeremy ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose as he exchanged a glance with Lisa and Yatami.

Jeremy cleared his throat and turned to his daughter. "Show Yatami around the house." His voice was low, firm.

Lisa hesitated. She looked between her father and mother, the tension lingering like a storm about to break. "Alright," she said quietly, motioning for Yatami to follow her.

Jeremy lingered for a moment before stepping inside. His gaze followed Sophia's retreating figure as she disappeared into the kitchen.

★★★

Sophia entered the kitchen, her footsteps echoing softly on the tiled floor. The tension in her chest hadn't eased; if anything, it was suffocating. She yanked open the refrigerator, her hand trembling slightly as she grabbed a bottle of cold wine. The deep crimson liquid inside seemed to mirror the storm of emotions swirling within her anger, betrayal, and a gnawing sense of unease.

She crossed to the cabinets and retrieved a glass, setting it on the sleek marble counter with more force than necessary. Uncorking the wine, she poured it in one swift motion, the rich red liquid filling the glass to the brim. Without hesitation, she grabbed it and gulped it down, the bitterness burning her throat. But the wine couldn't wash away her frustration; it only seemed to stoke the fire.

Sophia slammed the empty glass onto the counter, the sound sharp against the quiet hum of the house. Her fingers clenched around the bottle as she reached to pour another, her mind replaying the scene at the door like a relentless loop.

Before she could fill her glass, she heard footsteps. Jeremy walked into the kitchen, his expression hesitant and uncertain, like a child caught doing something wrong. His disheveled hair and troubled eyes made him look almost vulnerable, a stark contrast to the man she thought she knew.

"I'm sorry," Jeremy said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sophia turned to him, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and pain. "Sorry?" she echoed, her tone sharp and bitter. "You told me Yatami was a top-secret project for your company. You said he was crucial to keeping the world safe because he holds the only key to decoding the formula maps the ones that no one else can translate. And now you bring him here, without warning? You know what's at stake if those maps or that code fall into the wrong hands!"

Her voice cracked, the weight of her concern slipping through her anger. She placed her hands on the counter to steady herself, her knuckles white from gripping its edge.

Jeremy stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like approaching a wounded animal. "Sophia," he began, his voice soothing, "I understand your fear"

"Stop right there!" Sophia snapped, her hand shooting up to halt him. "Don't come any closer. Don't even try." Her tone was like a dagger, cutting through the space between them.

But Jeremy didn't listen. He ignored her warning and closed the distance between them, his arms reaching out. Before she could react, he pulled her into an embrace, his warmth pressing against her rigidity.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed, her hands balling into fists. She struck him on the arms, her blows fueled by the fire raging in her chest. "Let me go, Jeremy! I'm not in the mood for this."

Her hits did little to deter him. He held her tighter, his grip firm but not overbearing. Sophia's strength faltered as her anger ebbed into something closer to exhaustion. She tried to push him away again, but he wouldn't budge.

"Stop," she whispered, her voice cracking, though she wasn't sure whether it was a plea or a warning.

Jeremy buried his face in her hair, his free hand stroking it gently, as if trying to soothe the tempest inside her. "I know what I've done, Sophia. I know how dangerous this is. But I promise you, no one with an evil hand will ever get hold of those maps or that code as long as we're with Yatami." His voice was steady, carrying a weight of resolve that made her pause.

Sophia's fists loosened, her hands falling to her sides. She didn't want to believe him, not after what she had just witnessed. But the way he held her, the way his voice softened the edges of her rage, made her falter.

"Jeremy," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Do you even understand what you've done? You've brought him here, into our home, without a word to me. What if someone followed you? What if …"

"No one followed us," Jeremy interrupted, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. His gaze was steady, filled with a rare sincerity that caught her off guard. "I made sure of it. You know I'd never risk your safety or the safety of the world."

Sophia searched his face, looking for cracks in his resolve, for any sign that he was lying. But all she saw was a man desperate to make things right. She exhaled shakily, her anger ebbing into something more fragile.

Jeremy cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing away the unshed tears in her eyes. "Trust me," he said, his voice low. "We'll get through this. Together."

Sophia didn't respond. She wasn't ready to forgive him, not yet. But as she leaned into his touch, letting the warmth of his hands anchor her, she allowed herself to believe, just for a moment, that maybe he was right.