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Elijah’s expression hardened, but his tone remained deceptively calm. "You know why I’m here, Noah. Don’t play stupid gas with ."

Noah sighed again, this ti with a touch of exasperation. "Elijah, you co here every week, and every week I tell you the sa thing: I don’t know where Ash is."

Elijah’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. "You’re lying."

Noah’s gaze didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of sothing in his eyes—sothing that might have been sympathy if Elijah hadn’t known better. "If I knew, I’d tell you," Noah said, his voice smooth, almost too smooth to believe.

"You expect to believe that?" Elijah exclaid furiously.

Noah t his gaze without flinching. "Believe what you want. But I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know where Ash has gone."

Elijah stared at him for a long mont, searching for any sign of deception, any crack in Noah’s façade. But Noah remained unreadable, as always, his expression calm and collected.

Finally, Elijah exhaled slowly, the frustration evident in the way he clenched his fists at his sides. "I know you know where he is," he said, his voice laced with quiet intensity. "It’s impossible that he would leave without telling you."

Noah’s lips twitched into a slight smile, but there was no humour in it. "I’m not your enemy, Elijah," he said softly. "But if you keep this up, you’re going to lose more than just Ash. Just relax and take a look at yourself. You look like you haven’t slept for days. Stop this stubborn chase if Ash doesn’t want to return to you and start taking care of yourself."

Elijah’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned and walked to the door.

Noah watched him leave, the door clicking softly shut behind him. For a mont, he stood there in the silence of his office, letting out a long breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Despite Elijah’s sharp words and the tension that always followed him like a shadow, Noah couldn’t help but notice sothing different this ti.

Elijah didn’t look weak—far from it. The intensity in his eyes, the controlled fury in his movents, the determination that seed to radiate off him—all of it still painted the picture of a man who was used to getting what he wanted, no matter the cost. But beneath that, Noah saw sothing else.

He saw the exhaustion in Elijah’s posture, the way his shoulders slumped ever so slightly when he thought no one was looking. He noticed the shadows under his eyes, darker than usual, as if sleep had beco a rare luxury. And there was sothing in the way Elijah’s voice wavered, just for a fraction of a second, that spoke of a deep vulnerability—a man fraying at the edges, holding on by sheer willpower alone.

Noah couldn’t bring himself to hate Elijah anymore, not like he once did. The anger and resentnt he used to feel had long since cooled into sothing closer to pity. Pity for a man who had lost so much, who was driven by pain and grief to the point where he was destroying himself. But that pity didn’t make things any easier.

Noah’s hands tightened around the edge of the desk as he wrestled with his thoughts. He knew he couldn’t just hand over Ash to Elijah. It wasn’t about withholding information out of spite or even a sense of loyalty to Ash. It was about protecting a friend who had been through enough, and who deserved so peace, even if that peace ca at the cost of Elijah’s sanity.

But it wasn’t easy. Seeing Elijah like this—so tired, so vulnerable—pulled at sothing deep inside Noah, sothing that made him want to help, even if it ant going against his better judgent. Yet, he couldn’t ignore the fact that Elijah, despite everything, wasn’t weak. That iron will of his was still there, burning fiercely in his eyes, driving him forward like a relentless force of nature.

Noah sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to shake off the unease that had settled in his chest. He knew Elijah wouldn’t give up, and that ant Noah had to be just as resolute in his decision. No matter how much he pitied Elijah, no matter how much he understood his pain, he couldn’t betray Ash.

With that resolve hardening in his mind, Noah turned back to his desk, trying to focus on anything other than the lingering image of Elijah’s weary face. It was a reminder that in this situation, there were no winners—only people caught in the crossfire of old wounds and unforgiving truths.

anwhile,

Elijah didn’t stop there. As he stepped out of Noah’s office, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed in his mind, he pulled out his phone.

He scrolled through his contacts until he landed on the na he needed—Ryder. Without hesitating, he tapped on it and pressed the phone to his ear, the ringing sound barely registering in his mind as he made his way to the elevator.

"Hello?!"

Ryder picked up on the third ring, his voice casual and slightly amused as he greeted Elijah. "Hey, what’s up? You sound like you’re ready to bite soone’s head off."

Elijah’s tone was sharp, leaving no room for small talk. "I need a favour."

There was a brief pause on the other end, the shift in Elijah’s voice not lost on Ryder. "What kind of favour?"

The elevator doors opened, and Elijah stepped inside, leaning against the cool tal wall as he stared straight ahead. His eyes were hard, his expression unreadable. "The kind that requires your expertise. No questions asked."

Ryder’s amusent faded, replaced by a seriousness that matched Elijah’s mood. "You know you can count on . Just tell what you need."

Elijah’s grip on the phone tightened as he considered his next words carefully.

"You know Ash’s friend, Noah, right?"

"Huh? Oh, I do know that cutie very well. Why, what’s the matter with him?"

"Let’s et and then discuss. I need your help with him."

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