CHAPTER 101: SUBTLE RIVALRY

Dawin slowly stopped drinking, the glass still at his lips, but he didn’t lower it. He leaned back, studying Hades over the rim. His gaze was now shrewd, analytical. "You look unsettled, Hades. That’s new."

There was a pause. Long enough to feel deliberate. Almost companionable. Almost. A faint sound tapped into the space. It was the slow, rhythmic drumming of Hades’s finger against the table’s edge. His gaze remained steady on his brother.

"Should I find it delightful then?" Hades asked calmly, voice smooth.

Dawin finally lowered the glass, the motion precise. He placed it neatly on a coaster, then reached for the linen napkin beside his plate, dabbing at his lips with the ease of someone hosting a gala rather than engaged in subtle warfare.

"You’re speaking like I’ve crossed some line," Dawin replied lightly, with the kind of smile only well-trained diplomats or devout narcissists could pull off.

Hades raised a brow, not amused, but as if considering the audacity laid bare before him.

Dawin chuckled to himself, breaking the moment. "She’s charming, you know. Smart. Not loud like most of the women I meet. And... unexpectedly funny."

Still no reaction.

Hades reached forward, selected a single grapefruit wedge from the crystal bowl between them, and placed it in his mouth, chewing slowly.

"You don’t usually talk in circles," Hades said. It was a silent urge for him to go straight to the point.

"And I didn’t realize this was your style," Dawin said, voice dropping a note. "The whole... possessive thing."

"You know," Hades replied, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips. "You know me."

Dawin’s mouth twitched. "Do you want her?"

A pause.

Hades had picked up another wedge of grapefruit, but he slowly set it back down. Unbitten.

"Why should that concern you?"

That made Dawin chuckle. Not mockingly, but with genuine amusement. Like someone deeply entertained by the absurdity of their own life.

"How very you," he said. Then his expression softened into something slyly genuine. "Would it be wrong to say that I appreciate beauty? Value intelligence? Or that I find myself drawn to... charming company?"

His blue eyes twinkled with carefully veiled arrogance.

"I’m a public figure, Hades. One must appreciate the finer things."

"And she is a ’finer thing’?" Hades’s voice was flat, devoid of inflection, but something shifted behind his eyes. The challenge in it wasn’t loud. It was sharp.

"She is," Dawin agreed easily, picking up his fork again. He gestured vaguely toward a plate of roasted vegetables. "Do you want some of this? It’s quite good. The chef excels at simple preparations."

Hades’s jaw flexed once. Then, to Dawin’s faint surprise, he reached forward and plucked a roasted potato from the plate. He bit into it with mechanical calm, never once breaking eye contact.

"So you like her?" Hades asked, eyes dark as wet ash.

Dawin didn’t flinch. "Am I supposed to hate a new member of this family, brother?"

Hades let out a short, dry laugh, devoid of humor. "Is it difficult for you to address her as my wife?"

Dawin shrugged with polished indifference, as if the title was an insignificant detail. "I had always thought, given your... historical detachment, that you didn’t much care for her. Was I mistaken?"

Hades’s eyes narrowed. The stillness in his body became pronounced. His next words were quieter, almost thoughtful. "And if I were, Dawin? Would that make it okay for you to try and covet what is mine?"

Dawin met his stare evenly. "Coveting is a rather strong word, isn’t it?" He paused. Tilted his head. A faint, imperceptible smirk tugged at the edge of his lips. "Besides, brother, we both know the marriage... it wasn’t genuinely registered."

Silence.

The dining hall suddenly felt like a tomb. Cool, echoing, ancient with unseen tensions.

Hades merely lifted a brow, face unreadable. He reached for another piece of grape and calmly bit into it.

"And so?"

Dawin twirled his fork lightly. "It wouldn’t be odd if I do not directly address her as an official Wildfire member, would it?"

"You don’t care much for your reputation, do you?" Hades asked, his voice like a blade kept barely in its sheath.

"I do," Dawin replied. "More than I care to admit, even."

Hades’s gaze sharpened. "Then why did you engage in such... overt gestures today? That was embarrassing. Not only to watch. But for her. She doesn’t like you."

Dawin stabbed a thin slice of apple with his fork and took a slow, gentlemanly bite.

"I merely extended a courtesy, brother. A gentleman’s obligation to control a situation that would’ve been humiliating for her. One must maintain appearances, mustn’t one?"

He paused, his gaze flickering with something unreadable.

"Unless... you believe appearances are deceiving?"

"I wouldn’t want this to get messy between us." Hades’s voice stayed calm, but the air tightened again, charged with the sharpness of a held breath. "But I wouldn’t mind it getting messy if you keep stalking her."

Dawin’s smile faded just slightly. The edges softened. He cocked a brow. A questioning brow.

Hades’s gaze dropped, almost imperceptibly, to Dawin’s right hand. Slightly bruised knuckles. Faint swelling, just along the edge.

Dawin followed the line of sight, then lifted the hand, examining it like it belonged to someone else.

"Nothing passes you, does it?" he said softly, a hint of genuine admiration in his voice. "Always so observant, brother. It’s almost... endearing."

"I’m sure I’m not as observant as you," Hades murmured, his voice laced with a subtle sarcasm that only another Wildfire would catch.

"Don’t lie to yourself. You’d do great in business," Dawin quipped, a return to his charming, political self. "Positions are still open at the company. You are a Wildfire after—"

Hades didn’t bite. He just lifted his head and cut him off with a steady, unyielding look. "You know it, don’t you?" His voice was colder this time. Precise. Final. "For how long?"

"Know what, exactly?" Dawin asked, still calm, his expression carefully blank.

Hades’s gaze hardened, focusing entirely on Dawin’s eyes, demanding an answer that went beyond words.

"Alice."

There. The flicker.