Killian’s expression was painted with fear as he was being pushed toward the hover car. When one of Keaton’s men shoved him forward, he went limp, then fought, then caught between panic and resignation.

"Second young master!" Killian rasped, voice cracking. "—Mick! D—!"

Mick’s eyes flicked down the line of men and landed on Killian. He tried to stand straighter, to grab Killian’s hand, but two hover cars landed, and several men came out to stop him.

Killian reached, fingers trembling, the movement frantic and pathetic. The door cut across Killian’s face as it hissed closed; his palm flattened against the glass and slid down, then, as the hover car lifted.

Neville watched the scene until the last hover-car faded away. He should have felt triumphant, vindicated, but somewhere deep inside him, he almost felt sorry for Killian.

Almost.

For a long moment, he stood there unmoved, one hand pressed to his ribs as if to ease the pain. He smoothed his clothes absentmindedly, fingers lingering over the rumpled fabric. He bent down to pick up and check his bag that had his and Grayson’s food. He then took the kitchen knife to safety.

Neville ran his tongue along the split and felt blood on his teeth. He opened his mouth to spit some of the blood on the ground when the building’s balcony garden caught his eye.

High above, against the railing, Ethan leaned casually, elbows hooked over the ledge. He wore that same smile on his face. He seemed to have been watching the situation with delight that couldn’t be hidden in Neville’s enhanced eyesight.

Their eyes met halfway.

Ethan’s smile widened, slow and deliberate. It was a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a smugness to it now, as if he was enjoying the fact that Neville caught him.

Neville’s jaw tightened. Is it you again, Ethan?

"Are you all right?" Liam called out in concern, checking him up.

Neville looked at him blankly for a second before scoffing, "Do I look all right?"

He regretted saying the words immediately. It sounded too sarcastic to be a joke, he whipped out for a moment. He couldn’t expect someone he barely even knew to get that joke.

Liam’s lips curved faintly, lightly smiling. "You actually look... better. At least better than the last time I saw you."

Neville blinked, caught off guard. "You’re serious?"

The smile became wider and gentler as Liam playfully shrugged his shoulders. "Serious."

For a moment, Neville didn’t know how to respond. In the end, he rolled his eyes, looking at Liam with uncertainty. He didn’t know whether to thank him or scold him for interfering.

"You shouldn’t have stepped in," Neville finally said, his voice quieter now, a little awkward.

"Well," Liam said lightly with a casual tone, "I dislike seeing idiots overestimate themselves."

Neville let out a short, bitter laugh and looked away. He didn’t particularly want to admit it, but when Liam came to his rescue, he was relieved. He really didn’t want to end up accidentally killing someone by stabbing randomly. After all, he didn’t have knife skills for murder.

"You’re impossible," Neville muttered.

"It’s true," Liam said, and there was something almost proud in his voice. "But at least I’m not suicidal like those two."

The absurdity of it made Neville laugh. Indeed, seeing Mick and Killian in that state and knowing that they wouldn’t be around for the near future relieves him.

He looked at Liam and sincerely said, "Thank you."

Liam’s smile turned playful, and he winked. "Thank me with a good amount of free food. I’m counting."

"I’ll expedite your order," Neville replied, smiling back.

Cough.

The sound made them both turn to see where it came from. Bryan was standing a few feet away. He seemed to be trying to neutralize his expression, but he had already caught the amused and mirthful expression on his face.

What’s going on with this guy now?

They both looked at Bryan with identical questioning expressions.

Bryan’s poker face cracked slightly, his lips twitching. "Mr. Maxwell is waiting for you."

Neville’s confusion was obvious. He glanced around, his gaze searching, until it landed on Grayson. He was standing at the main entrance of the building, waiting. He had an unreadable expression on his face as his eyes became fixated on their direction, rather, on him.

Wait, didn’t Grayson come inside earlier? What was he doing here?

Neville even tried to revisit his memory, but he just became more certain that Grayson did, in fact, enter the building. He knew for a fact that Grayson would have a tighter schedule than he did, even though they had both taken a leave around the same time.

Then why? Why was he still here? And why is he looking at them like that?

Neville turned to look at Liam, who was also confused when he noticed Grayson’s gaze. All of them were just practically waiting in their places and watching each other’s reactions.

No matter what reason Grayson had for staying, he was still Neville’s boss. Since his boss called him and even asked Bryan to call him, he should go.

Neville followed Bryan while Liam fell into step beside them. He was close enough for Neville to notice and wonder—why is Liam following too?

Keaton, who had been lurking around, turned around and watched everyone moving towards Grayson. He hurried forward and went past them.

"Can we talk inside, Mr. Maxwell?" Keaton’s voice carried a note of urgency.

Neville looked at Grayson, then at Keaton, then at Bryan. Bryan caught his gaze and made an exaggerated zipping motion across his lips.

Grayson, who had been looking at Neville all this time, turned to Keaton. For a moment, the temperature dropped a few degrees. Keaton was slightly sweating under that intense stare, but he didn’t dare to let it show in his expression.

For what felt like an eternity, Grayson finally nodded.

Liam, still standing close to Neville, saw that and showed no signs of leaving. Even after they stood on Grayson’s private elevator, Liam warily glanced at Keaton from time to time.

He wasn’t about to let Neville be on another mishap after saving him.