Chapter 15
1200 Words
✨Unsteady Calm.✨
Nasir Pov
Nasir did not look back at the boardinghouse when he stepped onto the curb.
He did not need to. The moment had already lodged itself somewhere inconvenient—behind the sternum, just off-center, where it would be difficult to ignore later. He adjusted his coat, checked his watch, and schooled his expression into something neutral just as the black sedan eased back to the curb.
The driver’s door opened.
“Get in,” came a familiar voice. “Before you startle the locals.”
Nasir slid into the back seat. The door shut with a soft, final thud.
The car pulled away.
For a long moment, neither man spoke.
That alone was enough to unsettle the driver.
Rafe Alcott had known Nasir Darven for nearly fifteen years. He had seen him in negotiations that ended empires, in rooms where men twice his size deferred instinctively. He had watched him bleed—once—without complaint. He had never, not once, seen Nasir leave a place and forget to speak.
Rafe flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror.
Nasir stared out the window, jaw tight, gaze unfocused.
“Well,” Rafe said lightly, “either you just closed the deal of your life, or you lost one spectacularly.”
Nasir didn’t answer.
That earned a longer look.
Rafe cleared his throat. “Should I assume this silence is strategic, or should I be offended?”
“Neither.”
Rafe smiled. “Ah. The rare third option.
Emotional repression.”
Nasir exhaled through his nose. “You were late.”
“You were distracted.”
That got a reaction—a brief narrowing of Nasir’s eyes.
Rafe chuckled. “There he is.”
The car continued through the quiet streets.
The town at night had a half-built feel—streetlamps unevenly spaced, storefronts dark except for a few stubborn lights. It was the kind of place people passed through, not stayed.
“You don’t usually linger,” Rafe said.
“Especially not in cafés that smell like burnt beans and desperation.”
Nasir finally turned his head. “You said you had news.”
“I do. Tomorrow. Office. After the meeting.”
Nasir frowned. “That’s not how you phrased it.”
“I adapted,” Rafe said. “I saw you.”
Nasir said nothing.
Rafe leaned back in his seat, studying him openly now. “You want to tell me why you look like a man who just stepped off a ledge and hasn’t checked if there’s ground yet?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll guess,” Rafe said cheerfully. “You met a woman.”
Nasir’s gaze snapped back to the window.
Rafe barked a laugh. “Oh, this is new.”
“Don’t,” Nasir said quietly.
“Don’t what?”
“Turn this into something it isn’t.”
Rafe grinned. “You didn’t say I was wrong.”
Silence again.
Rafe’s tone softened, curiosity sharpening beneath it. “She wasn’t… your usual.”
Nasir closed his eyes briefly.
“No,” he said. “She wasn’t.”
Rafe hummed. “Plain?”
Nasir opened his eyes. “That’s not—”
“Anxiety-riddled?” Rafe continued, undeterred. “Small?”
Nasir’s jaw tightened. “Careful.”
Rafe laughed, but there was no mockery in it.
Only fascination. “You should’ve seen your face, Nas. You looked… unsettled.”
“I was tired.”
“You were altered.”
That word landed.
Nasir didn’t respond.
Rafe let it go—for now.
The office the next morning was all clean lines and quiet authority. Glass, steel, muted colors chosen to calm or intimidate depending on who stood inside them. The meeting had gone as expected—numbers discussed, agreements reached, power subtly redistributed.
Nasir closed the final folder and rose.
The room emptied.
Rafe lingered.
The door shut.
Rafe leaned against the table. “All right. Now we talk.”
Nasir removed his cufflinks with deliberate care. “You said you had news.”
“I do,” Rafe said. “But I’m not starting there.”
Nasir glanced up. “You’re pushing.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t get distracted,” Rafe said.
“And you were distracted.”
Nasir set the cufflinks down. “I noticed someone.”
Rafe arched a brow. “That’s all you’re giving me?”
“That’s all there is.”
“Was it her,” Rafe asked, “who brought you here?”
The question hung between them.
Nasir looked at his desk. At the city beyond the window. At the man who knew him better than anyone alive.
“Yes,” he said finally.
Rafe straightened. “Interesting.”
“She didn’t do anything,” Nasir added. “She existed.”
Rafe smiled slowly. “That’s worse.”
Nasir shot him a look.
“I mean that,” Rafe said. “Women who exist without trying tend to undo things.”
Nasir didn’t argue.
“She was afraid,” Nasir said instead, as if testing the words. “Of everything. But she moved anyway.”
Rafe’s expression softened. “Ah.”
Nasir frowned. “What?”
“That’s it,” Rafe said. “That’s the hook.”
Nasir crossed his arms. “You’re romanticizing.”
“No,” Rafe said. “I’m recognizing. You respect motion. Always have.”
Nasir was quiet.
Rafe continued, “So what did you do?”
“I talked.”
Rafe blinked. “You… talked.”
“Yes.”
“About?”
“Nothing,” Nasir said. “And everything that didn’t hurt.”
Rafe laughed outright. “You’re in trouble.”
Nasir stiffened. “This isn’t—”
“I know,” Rafe said gently. “It isn’t that. Yet.”
Nasir turned away, unease threading through him. “I don’t intend to complicate this.”
“You already did,” Rafe replied. “By noticing.”
Nasir said nothing.
Rafe sighed. “All right. Business, then.”
He slid a folder across the desk. “The southern accounts are moving. Quietly. Someone’s testing boundaries.”
Nasir’s focus sharpened instantly. “Who?”
“Not sure yet. But it’s close.”
Nasir nodded. “I’ll handle it.”
“I know,” Rafe said. Then, carefully: “Just don’t underestimate the timing.”
Nasir paused. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” Rafe said, “you don’t usually feel things when pressure rises. If you do now, pay attention.”
Nasir met his gaze. “You’re suggesting weakness.”
“I’m suggesting humanity.”
Nasir exhaled slowly.
Rafe smiled, softer now. “Just… don’t scare her.”
Nasir’s brow furrowed. “I wouldn’t.”
“I know,” Rafe said. “That’s why I’m concerned.”
Nasir turned back to the window.
Below, the town moved—unfinished, imperfect, alive.
And somewhere in it, a woman who counted breaths on buses and talked about nothing at all.
Nasir rested a hand against the glass.
For the first time in years, he did not feel entirely in control.
And for reasons he did not yet understand—
He did not want to be.
- Writer
