The arm draped across my chest was relaxed and heavy. I could hear his calm, deep breaths beside me and smell the scent of his hair so close to my face. I smiled, thinking back on the night we'd shared, but anxiety crept in as I realized what we'd done. How the hell were we going to get through the day if Anthony found out? 

 "Stop overthinking it, Bel." Clocksworth yawned, propping himself up on one elbow. "I'll talk to him, okay?" 

 I chuckled, looking up at him. "So now you're reading my mind?" 

 He rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the pillow. "I don't need to. You reek of anxiety whenever your thoughts spiral like that." 

 I rolled onto my stomach with a grin. "I'll stop. I promise."

 "Good. Because you've got no reason to overthink anymore, kid." 

 I gave him a teasing smile. "Oui, Patron." He groaned and grabbed a pillow, smacking me in the face with it. "What?" I laughed. "Do you prefer Monsieur Clocksworth? Boss? Chief?" 

 He rolled over, pinning me on my back, and held my hands above my head with a smirk on his lips. "I'll show you who's boss." His lips pressed firmly against mine, and soon his tongue claimed my mouth. He released my hands, and I tangled my fingers in his broad back. My heart was racing so damn hard. God, how I loved him. 

 "CLOCKSWORTH!" Lumiere's voice echoed from outside the door. "Answer your damn phone!"  

Clock irritably lifted his head, growling, "WHAT?!" 

 "Get dressed and come to the office. Anthony wants a meeting. Something's happened," Lumiere hissed from the other side of the door. 

 Clock rested his forehead against mine with a sigh before kissing me one last time and getting out of bed. Wrapping a sheet around his waist, he opened the door and gave Lumiere a concerned look. "Is it serious?" 

 Lumiere scanned him and cast a glance into the bedroom, his expression unchanging as he spotted me in bed. "Probably." 

 Clock nodded. "We're coming." 

 Lumiere sniffed the air. "You might want to take a bath first." He glanced at me again, adding dryly, "Poor timing, don't you think?" 

 Clock smirked. "Not your concern, Lu." 

 The blond man sighed as Clock closed the door and headed to the bathroom to run a bath. 

 I groaned loudly at the news. "What do you think happened?" 

 "Probably Calvos retaliating for us blowing up his warehouse," he replied monotonously.

 "Emergency meeting before breakfast," I sighed, collapsing back into the pillows. 

 Clock nodded. "It's bad." 

 "Do you really think he wants me there?" 

 "You still eat with us, don't you?" 

 "What does that have to do with anything?" 

 Clock smirked. "Have you ever seen anyone else at the dinner table?"

 "No, that's true," I admitted, still not fully understanding his point. 

 He approached me, leaning down with a smile, tracing his thumb across my lips, his gaze devouring me. "You're still important to him." 

 "Why?" 

 He shrugged as he returned to the bathroom. "He has his reasons." 

 I quickly pulled on my jeans and perched on the toilet, watching Clock sink into the warm water. "Do you really have time for a bath?" I laughed. 

 "Anthony can wait ten more minutes," he sighed. "Besides, it's probably best he doesn't smell you on me today." He ran his fingers through his hair, closed his eyes, and smiled contentedly.

 "Fine. I'll take a quick shower and change." 

 As I walked past the tub, he grabbed my wrist, pulling me down to him with a broad grin. "I'll tell him everything, Bel, but not today. No need to test his temper." 

 I nodded, my hair brushing the water as I leaned in to kiss him. Droplets fell everywhere as I straightened. "I'll be quick." 

 Clock sank deeper into the water, closing his eyes again. "Bel..." 

 "Mmm?"

 "You're mine now." 

 I laughed and rolled my eyes as I walked away. "I've always been yours, you idiot."

An hour later, I stood at the back of Anthony's study, keeping to the shadows as tension coiled tightly in the room. Clocksworth paced near the desk, his frustration simmering just below the surface. Anthony stood motionless, his intense gaze locked on the map sprawled across the table. Bright red circles marred the paper, marking sites of stolen goods, destroyed warehouses, and lost territory. Calvo's men hadn't been idle. A quarter of our forces were dead, and a significant portion of our assets had been obliterated. Yet Anthony, ever composed, sipped his cognac as though the chaos were merely a passing inconvenience. In stark contrast, Lumiere paced like a caged animal, his phone glued to his ear as he barked out terse orders. 

 "I don't like the idea of you leaving the castle, Anthony," Clock said, breaking the tense silence with a weary sigh. He ran a hand through his hair before gesturing to the map. "We need to regroup—gather everyone still breathing and bring them here. Anything of value should be moved to the castle for safekeeping. This is our stronghold." 

 Anthony's expression didn't falter. "Lumiere will handle that while we're gone," he replied, his tone clipped and final. 

 Clock pressed his lips together, clearly dissatisfied. "And you think it's smart to just leave? Can't this be handled with a phone call? Or—" 

 "NO!" Anthony's voice lashed out like a whip, and his piercing gaze locked onto Clock. The other man stepped back, his hands raised in surrender, but Anthony wasn't finished. "If Levi won't come to me, then I'll go to him. This isn't up for discussion. We need his help." 

 Lumiere ended his latest call with a harsh click and threw the phone onto the desk. "They used some kind of gas," he said, his voice edged with frustration. 

 I frowned, stepping closer. "But we don't breathe..." 

 "Don't ask me how it works," Lumiere snapped, rubbing his temples. "All reports are saying the same thing. Gas bombs made the guards lose their minds—hallucinations, paranoia, complete disorientation. That's how they overran the defenses." 

 Clock slammed his fist on the desk, the sharp sound reverberating through the room. "DAMN IT!" 

 Anthony moved closer and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Focus. Get your special team on this gas—find out what it is, how it works, and who supplied it." 

 Clock's chest heaved as he struggled to compose himself. After a moment, he nodded tightly. "Consider it done." 

 Anthony turned to Lumiere, his authoritative tone leaving no room for argument. "You'll stay here and manage everything while we're gone. I need someone I trust running things." 

 Lumiere crossed his arms but nodded. "Fine. But this better not take long." 

 Anthony's gaze shifted to me. His tone softened just slightly. "Belmont, you and Clocksworth are coming with me as personal guards. Two hours. Be at the parking lot." Without another word, Anthony strode out of the room, his movements purposeful and unyielding. 

 Clock lingered, his brow creased as he glanced at Lumiere. "Will you be alright?" 

 Lumiere smirked, rolling his eyes. "What could possibly happen to me here?" 

 Clock's jaw tightened. "Sheen and Joel will stay with you." 

 "You don't need them?" Lumiere asked, one brow arching. 

 Clock shook his head. "They're not part of the special team anyway." 

 Lumiere let out a quiet laugh. "If it'll make you feel better, fine. But seriously, Clock, I'm not the one walking into the fire." 

 "I'm not letting you die," Clock muttered, his voice low and firm. Without another word, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the room. We walked in silence through the dimly lit corridors until Clock finally stopped, his grip tightening on my shoulders. He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the floor. "This is bad, Bel. Really bad," he said, his voice heavy with worry. I nodded but stayed quiet. He wasn't done, and I didn't want to interrupt. "I wish I could lock you up here with Lumiere," he muttered dryly. "Keep you safe. But instead, I have to drag you into this damn mess—" 

 "Hey," I cut in, placing a hand on his arm and giving him a teasing smile. "Tick-Tock, you can't go soft on me now." He blinked, surprised, as I cupped his bearded cheek. "Anthony needs you, and I've got your back. You're the boss out there. Tell me where to go, and I'll go. I trust you. So trust me, alright?" I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be careful." 

 He stared at me for a long moment, that familiar crease forming between his eyebrows—the one that made my chest tighten in a way I refused to acknowledge. "I know, Little One. I just... that talk about the gas spooked me." 

 "Whatever it is, Rumi will figure it out," I said lightly, trying to ease his worries. 

 He grabbed my hand, his grip firm as he started leading me toward the underground passages. "Maybe," he muttered, almost to himself. "But I know someone better. Let's go."