Page 58 of Duty Unbound

Yet as I sat surrounded by paint tubes and water cups, the night melting away around me, I felt something I hadn’t experienced in far too long—contentment. Pure, simple contentment. No matter what kind of crazy waited for me tomorrow, I had this moment. This piece of myself that I’d reclaimed.

And for now, that was enough.

Chapter 18

Mel

It was hours later when I finally lowered my brush. I’d been so caught up in painting, I’d missed the small cream-colored note card that peeked out from beneath the box the supplies had arrived in.

Setting my brush down, I reached for it.

You are an artist who deserves her own canvas. —Ethan

My breath caught. Ethan. Not Nova. Not anyone from the tour team who’d known me for months or even years.

Ethan Cross had done this.

Something cracked open inside me—a flood of emotions I couldn’t contain. The care behind this gesture was overwhelming. He’d seen me. Actuallyseenme. Not asNova’s manager or sister, but as my own person with dreams and needs that mattered.

I traced my fingers over his handwriting. How many people in my life had ever noticed what I needed? My mother—loving but laser-focused—had poured everything into Nova’s talent. I’d learned early to make myself smaller, to accommodate Nova’s expanding world. To be the responsible one, the problem-solver, the support system.

Yet here was tangible proof that Ethan had paid attention. Had noticed me painting in those rare stolen moments. Had understood what it meant to me.

I stood abruptly, needing to find him. To thank him. My painting would wait.

After a quick change into clean clothes and washing the paint from my hands, I headed out. The hallway was quiet. Most of Nova’s entourage would be celebrating another successful show, but I knew where to find at least one of Ethan’s team.

Logan was positioned near the elevator bank, professional and alert despite the late hour.

“Logan, is Ethan still up?” I asked.

He nodded. “Command center on the mezzanine level. We converted one of the conference rooms.”

“Thanks.”

The elevator ride down was brief, my heart racing with anticipation. What would I say? How could I possibly convey what his thoughtfulness meant to me?

The makeshift command center door was slightly ajar. Through the gap, I could see Ethan sitting alone, surrounded by the blue glow of multiple laptop screens. His shoulders were set in that familiar vigilant posture, eyes scanning each display with methodical precision.

I knocked softly.

He turned, his expression warming immediately when he saw me. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I hovered in the doorway. “Is this a bad time? I can come back if you’re too busy.”

“Never too busy for you.” He reached for his comms unit. “Jace, take over monitoring remotely for a bit?”

A disembodied voice crackled through. “Copy that. Switching to remote observation now.”

Ethan gestured me in. “Everything okay?”

I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. The room was cool, businesslike—except for the way Ethan looked at me, which was anything but.

“I found your gift.” My voice was surprisingly steady despite the emotions churning inside me. “The paints, the easel…everything.”

His eyes searched mine. “You like them?”

“Like them?” I moved closer, drawn to him like gravity. “Ethan, it’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s done for me in… I can’t even remember.”

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