Aiden Reed had done his homework.
Before today, he'd asked Valeria for photos of her family—not just out of curiosity, but for survival. If he was walking into enemy territory, he needed a map.
So the moment the apartment door swung open and a tall man with silver-streaked hair and a butcher's knife dripping red stood in front of him, Aiden recognized him instantly.
Dr. Richard Quinn.
Head of Columbia University's Veterinary Sciences Department.
And, judging by the precision of the blade in his hand, a man who had definitely dissected more than just theory.
Aiden had been through his fair share of chaos—once mugged in Bushwick, chased by a goose during a live segment in Jersey, even tackled by a drunk best man during a wedding broadcast—but this? This was new.
He recalled something a palm reader once told him at a summer fair:
"Before you're thirty, blood and fate will meet at your door."
Well, the blood was here. Time to see about fate.
Still, he stood tall—posture calm, chin up. If he was going down, it would be with dignity.
"Dad! What the hell?!" Valeria gasped, eyes wide.
Dr. Quinn glanced at the knife as if just realizing he was still holding it. "Oh—sea bass prep. Lost track of time."
Aiden stiffened.
A fish. Not a threat. Not a warning.
Hopefully.
"Jesus, Dad. He's my husband, not your next dissection subject," Valeria muttered, rolling her eyes.
With a quiet chuckle, Dr. Quinn turned and disappeared into the kitchen. The clatter of the knife against the sink followed, then running water. Then silence.
Valeria gave Aiden's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Come on in."
He followed her inside, knowing full well there was no turning back now.
From the living room emerged a tall, sharp-featured woman in a white cashmere sweater, her dark eyes dissecting him more thoroughly than her husband ever could with a scalpel. Chin-length hair, clean lines, and the kind of stillness that carried weight.
Victoria Quinn.
Valeria's mother. Professor of American History at NYU. And, by the look on her face, someone not easily impressed.
Aiden immediately straightened.
"Hi, um—Aunt—I mean, M—"
Elbow jab. A sharp one.
Valeria hissed, "Say 'Mom.'"
"Right. Mom. Hi. I'm Aiden. I, uh, brought some gifts. Just a small gesture."
He handed over the gift box—artisan tea and high-end skincare.
Victoria accepted it without a word, barely glancing at the label. A polite nod. No thank you. No smile.
Yep. He was losing this one.
Dr. Quinn reappeared, now wearing a cozy pullover and a much warmer expression. He took the box and clapped Aiden on the back.
"You didn't need to bring anything, son. You're family now."
Aiden blinked.
What?
After the knife? After the dead-eyed look from Victoria?
This was... too smooth. A little too easy.
Was it some twisted version of good cop, bad cop?
Before he could think further, a groggy figure shuffled into the room. Hoodie. Bedhead. Mismatched socks. Looked like he'd just rolled out of a hacker's basement.
"Leo," Valeria sighed.
"You must be her brother," Aiden said, offering a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you."
Leo barely looked at him, instead going straight for the gift box. "Tea and skincare? That's it? No snacks? No scotch?"
Aiden's smile twitched.
Wait—weren't these the perfect gifts? The ones Valeria said her parents would love?
Valeria shot her brother a withering look. "Were you up gaming all night again?"
"Just 'til five. Nothing major."
"Still unemployed?"
"I prefer 'between opportunities.'"
Aiden stood awkwardly as the two siblings exchanged barbs like professional rivals on a debate team.
"You two always like this?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Since birth," Leo replied, already peeling a label off the tea tin.
Before the conversation could spiral, Dr. Quinn motioned toward the sitting area.
"Let's all have some tea. Aiden, come."
Valeria started to follow, but her mother's voice cut through the room. Calm, clipped.
"Valeria, come with me to the study."
The way she said it left no room for debate.
Oh no.
Aiden felt a chill. This was it—the part in every story where the parents offered cash in exchange for disappearing from their daughter's life.
Valeria looked back as she followed her mother, giving him a subtle nod.
What was that supposed to mean?
Hang in there?
Run?
Accept the check?
He had no clue.
"Sit, son," Dr. Quinn said, gesturing to the couch.
Right. Focus.
Aiden took his seat, posture straight, nerves simmering under the surface.
"So," Dr. Quinn began, pouring tea into small ceramic cups. "Valeria tells me you're in broadcasting?"
"Yes, sir," Aiden replied. "Field producer. I host community features and human-interest pieces for NYDLC."
"Thought I recognized your face. You did that shelter piece last fall, right? With the senior dogs?"
Aiden's eyes widened. "You saw that?"
Dr. Quinn nodded. "It was honest. Grounded. Good reporting."
Aiden exhaled. "Thank you, sir."
"Not a glamorous beat, but meaningful. You shine a light where people forget to look. I respect that."
He sipped his tea while Aiden sat frozen, unsure how to react.
Compliments? Praise?
Was this still the setup?
He braced himself for the real punchline.
"So," Dr. Quinn asked smoothly, "do your parents know about the marriage?"
Aiden hesitated. "They do."
"How'd they take it?"
"Still processing."
Dr. Quinn chuckled, setting his cup down. "Valeria's always been spontaneous. Jumped off the garage roof when she was six—claimed a pillowcase was a parachute. Built a cardboard fort in our backyard. Always chasing the next thrill. This… marriage thing isn't out of character."
There it was.
The first crack in the wall.
The unspoken: We know this isn't real. So how long are you planning to play house?
Aiden met his gaze.
Steady.
"I know I wasn't what you imagined for her," he said. "And I know this happened fast. But I'm here because I care. And I'm not going anywhere unless she tells me to."
Dr. Quinn studied him for a long second. Then—smiled.
Not a PR smile.
Not a fake one.
Real. Subtle. Approving.
"Good answer."
Still, Aiden couldn't shake the feeling: this wasn't the full test yet.
Because Victoria Quinn wasn't back.
And when she returned?
The real exam would begin.