Page 11 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
“And you are?”
He stops then, just enough to acknowledge the question.
“Lucian Bellandi,” he says. “I’m Elijah’s agent.”
The name lands first.
Bellandi.
Everything else comes second. Jackson shifts subtly beside me, attention sharpening. Lucian’s gaze moves to us, assessing without lingering.
“You must be Jackson and Zach,” he says. “Christian asked me to come.”
That tracks. Still, I don’t relax. There’s something about him that doesn’t sit cleanly in one role, the polish of an agent sitting over something else entirely, something quieter and harder to read.
“As soon as Elijah is released, we leave,” Lucian continues. “The plane is already being prepared. We’ll go straight to the tarmac.”
Jackson steps forward slightly.
“Have you heard anything?” he asks. “Do we know anything about Lia?”
Lucian studies him for a moment.
“Not yet,” he says. “But Christian has everyone moving.”
It isn’t reassurance. It’s certainty.
“We’ll find her.”
Jackson nods, but I can see the tension still sitting in him, tight and unresolved. It’s the same tension sitting in my chest, just held differently.
Movement shifts behind the glass. The door opens and Elijah steps out. He’s quieter now. Not calmer. That’s the difference.
The movement is gone, but the energy isn’t. It’s still there, just pulled in tighter, sitting under his skin instead of burning outward.
Lucian watches him for a moment before speaking.
“Hello, cousin.”
Elijah’s gaze lifts slowly. Lucian’s mouth curves slightly.
“Let’s get you home,” he says. “We’ll find your wife.”
The word lands differently now. He doesn’t react visibly, but something shifts through his shoulders.
Security clears the way without argument, like whatever needed to happen has already happened, like this has already been decided somewhere higher than the people standing in front of us. We’re taken through a back exit, away from the main corridors, away from cameras, the air outside hitting colder than expected as we’re led straight to a waiting car.
Up close, the blood is worse. More real. It hasn’t been cleaned. Hasn’t been touched. Just left there. A reminder. I look away as we get into the car.
The door shuts, cutting everything else off. For a moment, no one speaks. Lucian glances toward Elijah.
“It seems you’ve created a complication,” he says lightly. “Surprising the family with a marriage.”
Elijah turns his head.
“Don’t push me.”
There’s nothing raised in his voice. Nothing sharp. Just something final enough that it doesn’t need anything else.
