INICIAR SESIÓNThree days since the folder.Three days of task lists, and I've been efficient, and precise. I've filled everything he's asked for and flagged everything that wasn't okay. Delivered the Connecticut property cross-reference with two hours to spare.I've been exactly what he said I was.The most efficient route to revenge.I've been telling myself that's fine. That it was always fine not to attach meaning to anything that’s happened between us— the scotch in silence, the lamp, and the how are you.Lucien is blinded by his revenge, and nothing humane about him towards me means anything otherwise. I am just a tool, one that he monitors to work efficiently. The earlier I drill that into my head and heart, the better.It starts with the Meridian story.I pulled it up two days ago and closed it immediately because opening it felt like pulling a thread I wasn't ready to follow. This morning, I open it again and I read it properly — the full article, and then the related articles, and then the
I call Luca at four, before anyone appears on the floor. Fifteen years of planning doesn’t get shared over conference calls and documented in meetings. They get executed in the quiet hours when the city is still waking up.He picks up on the second ring."It's time," I say.A pause. Definitely not a surprise, he doesn't do surprises, and it's one of the reasons I've kept him for eleven years. My call probably woke him up, and he's trying to shift from standby to active. "The Meridian account?""All three subsidiaries." I stand at the window, city grey and pre-dawn below me. "I want it clean. No traceable thread back to Stark. By the time his lawyers find the mechanism, it should already be done.""Timeline?""Forty-eight hours."Another shorter pause. "Consider it done."I hang up.I stand at the window for a moment longer, looking at the city coming slowly to life below me, and I think about a night twenty-three years ago when another city looked like this, but everything changed bef
The door is open again this morning. It’s been like that for the past three days, as if I could vanish at any moment. I’ve been noticing a lot lately, like someone who’s learned the lesson that the things worth paying attention to are usually the ones that don’t announce themselves. I make his coffee and place it on his desk. He is not in yet.I go back to my station, open the task list, and get to work.He arrives at eight exactly, sharp suit, the particular set of his shoulders that means no one crosses him today. He doesn’t look at me or offer a greeting, just goes straight into his office. It’s routine now. One would think I don’t exist. The door stays open, and I tell myself it means nothing and get on with the morning.Kane finds me at the coffee station at half past ten.He stands beside me a bit too closely; he’s been doing that a lot lately after the rooftop incident. I can’t tell if it’s his own way of telling me he’s there for me or not. "Petrov's contract," he says quiet
The name comes through at eleven forty-three pm. I’ve been at my desk since Zolandria left for the house, and the office settled back into its nighttime version, all quiet and calm. I sat here while the lamp still burnt, and Kane’s voice saying already on it echoes in my head. And when the message from my intelligence contact at Prague at the moment finally comes through, I read it once and set the phone face down on the desk. I pick it up again and read it again.Petrov, Aleksei. Former Czech military intelligence, private contractor since 2019. Four confirmed operations in Western Europe, and two in the United States. He cleanly finishes all of them—no arrests, no exposure, and no loose ends. He’s the kind that gets hired when someone wants something done quietly and permanently. His current contract reads: Locate and make contact with Zolandria Azaeres. Contracted six weeks ago. Six weeks ago, she was already under my roof. Someone knew and started making plots to get her. I ke
I had expected to lie awake replaying the rooftop, the dark stairwell, and the possibility of what could've happened if Kane hadn't arrived there in time. I had expected insomnia, my body finally catching up to what could've been; instead, I slept deeply, almost immediately, like nothing ever happened.I lie in the grey morning light, trying to understand why. Is it because Kane had come or because Lucien had said Raven would be taken care of, and for once, it sounded like he meant it in a way that wasn’t just another leash to hang. I get up and dress, bracing myself for the day. Later, I get to the office and make his coffee. Kane is in the corridor outside when I come out, leaning against the wall with his phone, scrolling through something. He looks up when he hears me, and we stare at each other for a moment. "Sleep okay?" He says."Better than I expected," I say honestly.He nods and goes back to his phone. I start to move past him, but then I stop."Kane." He looks up. "Tha
I know she's gone before Kane tells me.The lamp.She left the lamp on in my office, the one on the corner of my desk that I never leave on when I'm not in the room, and when I walk back in at seven forty-three and see it burning, I stand in the doorway for a couple of seconds before I move.The Harlow contract is on the desk, and her bag is not at her station.I pick up my phone and call Kane before I've fully processed the thought. He answers on the second ring. "She left twenty minutes ago," he says, which means he already knows, which means he's been watching and didn't tell me, which is a conversation for another time. "Driver took her to the West Village. Raven's building.""Go," I say. "Now."I don't follow him, I don’t need to. I trust Kane with my life, she’s completely safe with him. I stand at my window, phone in hand, city spread out below me, and wait.This is the part nobody sees—the waiting. I have built an entire architecture around never being the man who waits, never







