Kent Farmhouse
The kettle let out a soft hiss as steam escaped, filling the kitchen with the warm scent of herbs. Martha poured the tea into the cup, feeling the comforting heat spread through her fingers.
The sound of firm footsteps came from the living room. Jonathan entered, wiping his hands on a cloth, his expression relaxed.
"We finally finished the fences."
Martha smiled, stirring the tea slowly.
"Does that mean you won't disappear into the fields for the rest of the day?"
Jonathan raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter.
"Are you complaining that I work too much?"
She looked up at him, a playful glint in her eyes.
"No. I'm saying you have time for me now."
Jonathan crossed his arms, watching her for a moment.
"So that's why you insisted so much on me hiring help?"
Martha took a sip of her tea, savoring the flavor before answering.
"Maybe."
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
"So I've been tricked."
Martha leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table.
"Not tricked. Just… guided in the right direction."
Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck, glancing out the kitchen window. The fields stretched to the horizon, the farm work finally under control.
"I'll admit it was a good idea. I don't know why I resisted so much."
Martha set the cup down, her eyes soft as she looked at him.
"Because you're stubborn. But now that we've hired help, I can have my husband back."
Jonathan met her gaze, letting her words settle inside him.
Her smile was gentle, but it carried something deeper.
Her belly was beginning to show signs of the new life growing there.
He pulled a chair up beside her and sat down.
"So, finally, I have time to be your real husband?"
Martha laughed, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together.
"Yes. And it's nice having you around."
Jonathan gave her hand a light squeeze, feeling the warmth and strength in that touch.
"I promise I'll keep it that way."
Martha ran her thumb over the back of his hand, feeling the rough texture of skin that had spent a lifetime working.
"That's all I want."
Jonathan looked at her, the weight of the past few years feeling lighter.
Silence settled between them—not the uncomfortable kind, but the one that said everything without needing words.
The kettle on the stove still let out small pops as it cooled.
Outside, the wind gently swayed the trees.
Martha rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment.
Jonathan sighed, feeling the peace of the moment.
"Clark will be glad to know we're doing alright."
Martha opened her eyes, gazing out the window.
"He always worries too much."
Jonathan let out a light laugh.
"He learned that from you."
She smiled, knowing it was true.
🚪 KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
The sound of knocking at the door broke the peaceful moment. Jonathan exchanged a quick glance with Martha before standing up.
"Who could that be at this hour?"
Martha adjusted her blouse over her belly, a strange feeling tugging at her.
The door opened.
A blonde girl with intense eyes, wearing a beige coat and snug jeans, stood on the porch.
Jonathan raised an eyebrow.
"Can I help you?"
Alicia smiled politely, tilting her head slightly.
"Hi, Mr. Kent. My name's Alicia Baker."
Martha approached slowly, stopping beside her husband.
Alicia glanced at her, keeping the smile.
"I came here to see Clark."
Jonathan crossed his arms.
"Clark?"
Martha tilted her head, sensing something off about the girl.
Alicia maintained her confident posture, waiting for a quick response.
Jonathan cleared his throat.
"Clark doesn't live here anymore."
Her smile faltered for a brief instant.
"He doesn't live here anymore?"
Martha caught the microexpression of surprise. Something in those eyes shifted, but it was fast.
"No, he moved out a while ago."
Alicia took a deep breath, still holding her smile.
"Oh… I see."
The silence grew heavy.
Jonathan kept watching her with a father's typical wariness.
"Are you a friend of his?"
Alicia straightened her shoulders.
"You could say that. He helped me through a tough time. I wanted to see him again."
Martha crossed her arms, studying her more closely.
"Did Clark ever mention you?"
Alicia felt a slight tightness in her chest.
'Did he talk about me to them? Does he already see me as someone important?'
A spark grew in her eyes… but Martha's response came before she could dwell on it.
"Because I don't recall him ever mentioning you."
The tightness gripped harder.
'He never talked about me?'
Alicia kept her expression steady, staying neutral.
"He's very discreet."
Jonathan frowned slightly.
"Well, if you'd like, I can let him know you stopped by when I talk to him."
Alicia gave a small, controlled smile.
"No need. I'll talk to him myself later."
Jonathan nodded.
"If that's how it is."
Martha still observed every detail.
Alicia took a step back.
"Well, thanks for your time. It was nice meeting you."
Jonathan nodded, but Martha remained watchful.
"Good night, Alicia."
The girl turned and started walking back down the dirt path.
The smile vanished the moment she turned her back on them.
Her steps were light, but every cell in her body trembled inside.
'He moved out.'
Her fingers gripped her coat.
'With another woman.'
The cold wind hit her face, but rage burned within.
'She did this. That so-called Diana.'
The car was parked at the edge of the road. With each step, her chest rose and fell harder.
'She took him away from me. Took him out of this house. Took him out of my reach.'
Her nails dug into her palm.
'But it won't last.'
She stopped beside the car, her eyes fixed on the empty road.
'If Clark's not here anymore, then I need to find him. I need to pull him from that woman's clutches before it's too late.'
The smile returned to her lips, but now it carried something darker.
'No matter where you are, Clark. I'll find you.'
She got into the car and slammed the door.
The engine roared.
The wheels kicked up dust on the dark road.
Alicia Baker was determined.
And nothing would stand in her way.
…
Luthor Mansion
The clink of ice against the crystal glass filled the silence of the room. The fireplace crackled softly, casting warm shadows across the dark wooden walls. Lex swirled the glass in his fingers, watching the amber of the whiskey catch the flickering light.
Clark sat on the leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other, his expression calm as he flipped through a few pages of the manuscript.
Lex leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"The second book's going to be even bigger than the first."
Clark looked up, assessing the euphoria in his friend's face.
"Expectations are high."
Lex smiled, raising his glass in a small, solitary toast.
"Expectations are meant to be exceeded."
Clark closed the manuscript calmly, setting it on the coffee table.
"You seem excited."
Lex leaned back in the armchair, satisfaction etched into every detail of his face.
"It's impossible not to be. The first book was already a phenomenon. Now, with this sequel, we're building something legendary."
Clark's fingers tapped lightly on the manuscript's cover.
Lex watched the gesture, his sharp eyes as keen as ever.
"You never show excitement, do you?"
Clark raised an eyebrow.
"I just like keeping my feet on the ground."
Lex laughed, bringing the glass to his lips.
"That's because you don't grasp the grandeur of what you've done."
Clark shifted his gaze to the window, where the night stretched silently over Smallville.
"Or maybe I just prefer letting others decide that."
Lex pointed at the manuscript.
"The numbers speak for themselves. And you know what's best?"
Clark looked back at him, waiting.
Lex swirled the glass in his fingers once more before letting out a satisfied sigh.
"My father's not here to ruin anything anymore."
Silence settled in.
Clark stayed still, watching Lex closely.
That gleam in his eyes wasn't just professional satisfaction. It was relief.
Lex leaned back, resting the glass on the table.
"Ever since Lionel left, things have never been better. For the first time, I don't have to look over my shoulder. I don't have to hear lectures about how I need to be better, stronger, more ruthless."
Clark watched in silence, a quiet satisfaction growing within him.
Lex smiled at his own glass, lost in thought.
"The publishing house is fully under my control. The mansion's at peace. And now, I have the chance to do something that's mine, with no interference."
Clark laced his fingers over his knee, his voice steady.
"And all of it without having to deal with him."
Lex let out a low laugh.
"Exactly."
Clark kept his expression neutral, but inside, every word from Lex was a reminder of how perfect his plan had been.
Hypnotizing Lionel. Forcing him to leave Smallville without ever looking back.
Lex would never know.
And he never needed to.
Clark picked up the manuscript again, studying the cover unhurriedly.
"So, what do you think of the title?"
Lex raised an eyebrow, shifting his attention to the paper.
"Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets."
A smile spread across his face.
"It's got a certain charm, don't you think?"
Clark shrugged, hiding a smile.
"We'll see if the public agrees."
Lex grabbed his glass again, raising it in the air.
"If it's as good as the first, we'll be swimming in gold."
Clark watched the confidence stamped on his friend's face.
He was right.
And the best part?
Lionel Luthor wasn't there to ruin anything anymore.
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