And just like that a week flew and it was time for the Reinhardts training session.
Saturday mornings in the Reinhardt Estate were never slow. They were meticulous. Routine. Engraved into every polished marble floor tile and every breath of cool, citrus-scented air wafting from fresh garden arrangements flown in weekly. But this morning? It carried something heavier. Something expectant. Almost cinematic.
The twins were already outside. Louis had hacked into the estate's drone security system to get an aerial view of their practice formations even though he very well knew how he'dearn yet another earful from his dad, while Liam stretched like he was warming up for war. Levy was lacing his boots with a kind of precision that made Leina narrow her eyes suspiciously, he always trained hard, but today, it was like he was preparing for a rematch he had to win.
Leina stood in the grand hallway of the east wing, zipping up her custom black athletic jacket stitched with the Reinhardt crest over her heart. The sun filtered through the crystal windows, casting fractured light across the floors. Her reflection caught in the mirror beside the door, and for a brief second, she paused.
Was it her imagination, or had she grown taller? Her face looked different, as if she were glowing. The girl in the mirror looked like she could hold her own. And she would.
Because Alexander Smith was coming.
When Lester casually announced it over breakfast that Alexander would be joining today's sparring session, her entire world had jolted. She had masked it well,nodding, sipping her tea, offering an odd, "That's cool." But inside, every nerve had lit up like a switchboard.
The black car arrived with barely a sound. James opened the door, bowing with that calm grace only someone like him could pull off a robust yet lithe man with soft brown eyes and the posture of someone who had both served and protected for decades.
"Mr. Smith. Master Andrew. Welcome back."
Alexander stepped out first. Six feet of quiet command in a graphite athletic hoodie and tailored joggers. The ash-blonde strands of his hair caught the light like fine silver. Emerald eyes scanned the estate like it was unfamiliar but it wasn't. Not to him. This was home, in its own strange way.
Then came the small flash of pure chaos. Andrew, four years old, clinging to a stuffed cheetah in one hand and a juice pouch in the other. He leapt out of the car like a secret agent.
Leina was frozen on the steps as Alexander's gaze lifted and caught hers.
The air between them stilled.
He didn't say anything at first. Just looked. A long, unreadable look that made her chest ache and her stomach flip in equal measure.
"Leina," he greeted, his voice velvet-dipped and frustratingly calm.
She blinked. "Alexander."
Andrew, ever the mood breaker, ran to her like a rocket. "Eeina! Guess what? I brought Sparkie! And I saw a squirrel with weird feet!"
She bent down, hiding her flushed cheeks behind a laugh. "That must have been the Squaky Squirrel, huh?"
Andrew just ran off giggling.
....
By the time they were on the estate's training grounds, the tension had laced itself into the air like smoke. The courtyard was massive, with clean-cut stone flooring, padded mats, and observation decks built like ancient amphitheaters. High-tech sensors lined the perimeter, monitoring heart rate, force, trajectory. Each year their training grew intense.
Lester clapped Alexander on the back. "You up for a one-on-one?"
Alexander smirked. "Always."
The warm-ups began.
Leina stayed near the edge, her fingers flexing in and out of fists. While occasionally looking over at Alexander spare with her brother.
Slowly she started mumbling to herself unconsciously.
"Pfft, look at him all smug and gross."
"As if he soooo important for me to want to talk too."
"I could just .... ughhhhh"
Leina glared, but it softened quickly. "Do I look like I'm about to combust because I feel i might."
"My heart is trying to escape through my ears."
She barely had time to retort because Alexander had taken off his hoodie, revealing a fitted black tee, arms flexing slightly as he readied his stance across from Lester.
The sparring began.
Blows landed with speed and precision. Lester's footwork was strategic, all counters and commands. Alexander's style was fluid, grounded in instinct. When he moved, it was like he was thinking five seconds ahead. Leina watched every pivot, every strike. The pressure in the air tightened.
At one point, Alexander stepped back, glanced toward where she stood. She felt it. Like a pulse. Their eyes met—and in that split second, it was like the world blurred out. He looked winded. Not from the sparring.
From her.
She inhaled sharply, forcing herself to look away.
Liam snuck up behind her. "Why aren't you sparring?"
"I'm observing."
"You're ogling."
Leina elbowed him, but the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. "I am not."
"He's your brother's best friend."
"And you're a sore loser for not sparing with Lsvy since you lost that one bet."
Liam just scuffed and left saving himself from whatever possessed her.
Alexander's match with Lester ended in a draw though the sweat on both their brows said it wasn't a casual tie. They stepped off, exchanging banter that was sharp but friendly.
And then—
Alexander walked toward her.
"Want a turn?" he asked.
She blinked. "Me?"
"I mean, unless you're scared I'll win."
The fire lit instantly. "I'm not scared of you."
"Prove it."
She dropped her jacket, tied her hair up, and stepped into the ring.
Everyone around stilled. Even James watched from the observation deck, one brow slightly raised.
It started slow. Testing the waters. Leina moved like she always did, informed, sharp, focused. Alexander didn't underestimate her. That made it worse. That made her want to win.
She dodged his first attempt with a pivot that left him blinking. "You've been practicing."
"Some of us don't waste our time with people who ghost us," she said, breathless, already twisting into her next strike.
His jaw twitched. He blocked it, barely. "So it is about that."
But the words were swallowed by the clash of movement. He ducked. She countered. His hand brushed her waist—too close. She stumbled back, heart lurching.
"You okay?" he asked.
She straightened. "I don't break that easy."
The spar resumed. The tension was unbearable. Too much heat in the way they looked at each other. Too much silence between every deflection. And when it ended no clear winner, no obvious point scored—he reached out.
"Leina…"
She backed up. "Don't."
He let his hand fall.
"I'm fine. You can go check on your girlfriend now."
The words were too sharp. She hadn't meant for them to come out like that.
Alexander said nothing. Just stood there, his expression unreadable.
She turned on her heel and walked off the mat.
Not crying. Not today. Just burning. From the inside out.
James met her halfway, eyes wide. "That was insane."
"I hate him."
"You do not."
"I wish I did."
Andrew toddled over from the sidelines. "Leina? I saw you go bam! and then woosh! and he went ooof!"
Leina smiled, finally. "You saw that, huh?"
He nodded seriously. "You should marry him."
Leina froze. James blinked. Alexander, from several feet behind, definitely heard that.
"Children," Leina muttered, grabbing Andrew's hand. "Unfiltered chaos."
As they walked back to the estate, the sun was beginning to dip behind the hilltops. Snow gleamed like crushed crystal. Leina's legs ached. Her chest ached more.
But she had held her ground. And sometimes, that was enough.
At least for now.
Inside, James had already prepared lemon-ginger tea and honey-roasted almonds.
Because in the Reinhardt Estate?
Even heartbreak came with luxury.