Trevor had known exactly what Lucas was doing the moment the group chat went to hell. He recognized that careful nudge, the way his spouse set Dax and Christopher on a collision course and then stepped back as if it were all accidental. It was clever. But there was only so much a third party could do.
And Trevor had long since learned the limits of interference.
He leaned back in the leather seat of the car, the city sliding past the tinted windows in muted streaks of light. His hand rested loosely on the wheel, but his thoughts were elsewhere, tightening around a different name. Vivienne.
Lucas was playing chess with kings and heirs, but Trevor knew better than to drown himself in that fire. His attention belonged on the quieter blaze, the one hiding in plain sight behind a façade of charity and benevolence.
