Bloodline
Seraphine’s car vanished down the glowing stretch of Piltover’s upper roads, a trail of luxury and self-assurance fading into the night.
Jayce turned to Caitlyn, his grin annoyingly smug. “Well? What’d you think?”
Caitlyn didn’t bother with a response.
Instead, she stepped toward him, grabbed his arm, and twisted it down without warning.
“Ow, ow, ow, Cait-!”
She let go with a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Serves you right.”
Jayce winced, rubbing at his shoulder, though it was his ego that took the real hit. “Okay, okay, maybe I deserved that. But come on, you two looked great together!”
Caitlyn sighed, weariness bleeding through her posture. “Jayce, I’ve told you, I’m fine being single. I like the quiet. I don’t need someone disrupting that just because you’re convinced I’ll be lonely when you leave next month.”
He blinked at her, unbothered. “You will be lonely.”
“I won’t.”
“You say that now—”
“And I’ll keep saying it,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You mean well, I know. But the matchmaking? Just, don’t.”
Jayce pouted, melodramatic as ever, and latched onto her arm like a child about to be abandoned. “Don’t go yet! At least let me grab a drink—”
Caitlyn laughed, despite herself. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you keep me around,” he grinned.
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t push him away. Jayce had always been a force of nature. Popular, magnetic, constantly surrounded by people chasing after his name or his charm. But not her. She never needed him to be anything other than what he was. That’s probably why he stayed.
“Fine,” she said, hailing a cab. “Come to my place. I’ll let you pick the show while I lecture you about personal boundaries.”
Jayce lit up. “Arcane?”
“Unfortunately.”
-----
Back at Caitlyn’s high-rise condo, the night unfolded into something easy.
Popcorn littered the floor, butter and salt hanging in the air as the credits of Arcane Season 2 crawled across the screen. Jayce was already dead asleep on the couch, limbs tangled in a blanket, snoring softly like a kid who’d finally burned out.
Caitlyn tossed a throw over him and tied her hair back before glancing around at the mess they’d left behind. The old Caitlyn, the one who lived in Kiramman Estate, would’ve called someone to clean it up.
But that girl was gone.
She was twenty-three now. A grown woman. A woman who could sweep her own damn floors.
Once, she’d been spoiled. A porcelain doll with a loaded gun and the Kiramman name stamped on her chest like a badge. But she’d been shattered, publicly, thoroughly, and in the aftermath, she’d made herself a promise.
Never again.
She couldn’t erase the mistakes she’d made or the people she’d hurt. But she could choose who she became now.
Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.
Marcus.
The name alone made her jaw tighten.
Her uncle only called when he wanted something. The last time they’d spoken, he’d pointed a gun at her. She could still feel the echo of that moment, the cold, metallic certainty of betrayal.
The screen pulsed. The call was almost over.
She picked up just before it went to voicemail.
“Why the hell did you take so long to answer?!” Marcus barked, voice already hoarse with rage. “Is this your idea of respect?!”
Caitlyn pulled the phone away from her ear slightly. Same tone, same script. He never changed.
“You done?” she asked, cool and sharp.
“You brat—!”
“Yes, yes, I’m a disgrace. We’ve covered this, Uncle.”
He faltered for a moment, caught off guard by her indifference.
Then came the real reason for the call.
“Your cousin’s birthday banquet is next week. You will show up. Don’t embarrass me again.”
There it was.
Caitlyn stared at the city skyline beyond her windows, the glittering lights of Piltover reflecting in the glass. So that was it.
He didn’t want her there for her. He wanted her there because she still carried weight, the Kiramman weight. Cassandra and Tobias wouldn’t come unless she did. And Marcus knew it.
“Are you sure you want me there?” she asked, inspecting her nails. “Because I can always transfer this call to my parents. Since they’re the ones you really want.”
Silence. Then a sharp inhale.
Bullseye.
Of course he wanted the Kirammans. Their presence at Ren’s birthday would guarantee cameras, politicians, and enough corporate clout to raise his profile for the next three quarters. Caitlyn was just the bait.
Out of all the children, she was Cassandra’s favorite. And Marcus knew it.
If she didn’t have that tether, he would’ve cut her off years ago.