Valmont Series - Inheritance Code

Chapter 9.4 - The Variable

Which meant she wasn't.

And Luc, of course, didn't notice. He wasn't supposed to.

But Aiden did.

Her hands stayed still, but her breath betrayed her—fractionally deeper, barely audible.

To Aiden, it wasn't flirtation.

It was positioning.

The kind that mattered.

Aurora glanced between them once, then smiled—not unkindly. "Looks like I've been replaced."

She walked toward them with her usual grace, not interrupting—just arriving. Luc turned when he saw her, nodded faintly, and said something Aiden couldn't catch.

Then—without excuse or flourish—he left.

But not without noticing Aiden.

And Aiden... stepped forward.

Not for drama. Not for pride.

Just enough for Luc to see him coming.

"I assume that wasn't a coincidence," Aiden said quietly.

Luc paused at the edge of the terrace, expression unreadable. "Protective brother now?"

Aiden didn't answer.

He wasn't accusing.

He wasn't threatening.

But he was watching.

Because Aria hadn't said anything out loud.

Not to him. Not to anyone.

But he saw it—

The faint blush at the mention of Luc's name—missable to anyone but him.

And the way she didn't meet his eyes last night when he asked—said nothing, but everything.

Aiden knew her better than anyone.

He didn't need a confession.

He'd already seen the truth.

She liked him.

And maybe Luc liked her.

Or maybe she was just useful—for now.

In Avalon, interest wasn't always romantic. Sometimes, it was tactical. Sometimes, worse.

Aiden couldn't afford to guess which.

They didn't grow up here.

Didn't speak the coded language of legacy, of power veiled as politeness.

But Luc did. He wasn't just part of the system—he moved within it like he'd written the rules.

Or worse—like he'd never needed them at all.

Luc studied him for a beat—long enough to register, but not explain.

"I read the board," Luc said lightly. "Especially the moves that aren't declared."

He didn't elaborate. Didn't need to.

His gaze flicked toward the gallery behind them—where Aria's reflection still lingered on the glass.

"You and your sister... interesting variables."

A pause. Just enough space for the next line to land deliberately.

"You weren't in the archives. That's why I watched."

Then he turned, the edge of his coat catching the citylight—sharp, deliberate—before vanishing into Avalon's pulse without waiting for a reply.

Aiden watched him go—silent, calculating.

Luc didn't move like someone walking away. He moved like someone who had already won. Not because he said so. Because he didn't need to.

Aiden's jaw tightened.

It wasn't jealousy. It wasn't fear.

It was awareness.

Of how easily Luc navigated Avalon's unspoken code—how every word he said and didn't say left traces behind. He was fluent in a language Aiden was still deciphering. And now that language included Aria.

Aiden glanced back toward the glass—where her reflection lingered, half-turned, half-lit, caught between curiosity and caution.

He'd never been the overprotective type. But Avalon wasn't neutral ground. And Luc wasn't just another boy with charm and lineage.

He was something else.

As much as he hated it, Aiden knew Luc was right.

He was watching the board. Overanalyzing moves that hadn't even been made. Questioning every signal, every silence. Even his own.

Luc had simply said it out loud.

But Aiden wasn't here to chase Dominion heirs through social subtext.

His focus was supposed to be elsewhere—on the real anomaly.

Cassian Dantes.

The one who moved through Avalon like a ghost in its machine. The one who shouldn't exist but did—flawlessly, wordlessly, without leaving a trace. The one the system couldn't profile.

And now, maybe, the only person who could explain what Aria and Aiden were starting to become.

Luc was just noise. Sharp, dangerous noise—but still a distraction.

And Aiden had never been good at wasting time on distractions.

Next: The Ghost Tier – Cassian didn't arrive. He emerged—exactly where the system forgot to look.