LOGINDante.I laughed.It came out before I'd decided anything about it. The short genuine kind that arrives when the brain receives something it flatly refuses to file as real.Xena didn't smile.The laugh ran out of road."You're serious," I said."Yes."I opened my mouth."I'm tired." She said it before I got there. And her tone told me she wasn't in the mood. She sounded like someone who had already argued every side of something before bringing it up. "The family. All of it. It's too complicated and I don't want to be a part of it anymore." A pause that had weight in it. "I want to start over. Find something that's actually mine."Nothing that I could get hold of.No accusation. No specific grievance I could address or dismantle or offer a solution to. Just a woman standing in my kitchen at whatever hour this was telling me she was tired.I looked at her.Then at the pot on the stove.I crossed to the cabinet then pulled out a bowl. Ladled broth into it and set it on the counter in f
Dante.The cursor hadn't moved in forty minutes.I leaned back. The study ceiling had nothing on it. I looked anyway.What I needed was a distraction. Something that wasn't numbers or Gerald or the particular shape of a problem that kept shifting every time I thought I had the edges of it. A woman would do it. Someone uncomplicated. Someone who didn't — Xena's face arrived before I'd finished the thought.Specifically the morning after. The specific quality of her in the dark. The way she —I sat forward and pressed both palms flat against the desk.Right.Axel Darwin had wanted the same thing.I picked up my phone. His contact sat there the way it had been sitting there — three years of business overlap distilled into a name on a screen. Last seen near O'Hare. Victor's people at the terminals. A man who had cornered my wife in my house and was now on his way out of the country dressed in business travel.A part of me couldn't care less where he went.Reeves was the problem. Reeves w
Xena.The line went silent for a few seconds. Multiple questions ran through my mind. Who was on the line? Where was my dad? "You took your time," the voice finally said.. My thumbnail pressed into the edge of my phone case. Once. Then I stopped."Who is this?""Someone who has been trying to have this conversation for quite some time." A pause that held things in it. "You're a difficult woman to get alone with.""I manage.""You do." Something in that made the situation more unsettling. "Your husband is quite charming, by the way."The thumbnail stopped."You met Dante.""He didn't tell you?"It couldn't be? I looked at the wall across from me. The particular patch of it that had been doing nothing useful for the past hour. My chest was doing something I wasn't going to examine directly.Dante had left to find Reeves at the abandoned Yale property. "We haven't had the chance," I said. "Since yesterday.""Mm." A sound that wasn't quite agreement and wasn't quite anything else. "
Xena.The ceiling had nothing useful on it.I'd been staring at it long enough to confirm that. It had no answers, no patterns worth decoding, just the flat white expanse of a room that cost more per month than my first apartment had cost per year. I was lying on top of the covers still dressed. Something told me that if I got comfortable I was agreeing to sleep and I wasn't ready to agree to anything.Was it possible that there were two Adrians?Fourteen times I'd turned that over. Fourteen times I'd arrived at the same place.That would be impossible, three years in our marriage and I hadn't noticed anything off. Adrian was probably acting because his ego got bruised. But if it were true….Every room I'd stood in with Adrian. Every conversation we've had. The expression I'd read. The words I'd weighed. The version of him I'd thought I understood even when I didn't like him.Which of those were him.I didn't have a method for sorting that. I wasn't sure one existed. And the part th
Dante.The numbers on the screen had stopped meaning anything useful twenty minutes ago.That was the detail I kept circling back to. Not the Thursday meeting. Not Victor's last update on Axel. Not the particular shape of Gerald's moves that still wasn't sitting right. The numbers had stopped meaning anything and I'd been staring at them anyway because the alternative was acknowledging why.The front door opened at 9:43.I didn't look up.Her footsteps crossed the entrance hall. I paused at the kitchen. Then continued toward the study. She stopped in the doorway without me turning around to confirm it."You're back," I said."I am."Neither of those sentences carried anything useful. We both knew it.She moved into the room. Took the chair across from my desk and sat. The study was quiet. Chicago pressed itself against the glass."Did Victor find him yet?"I set my pen down."Darwin's phone last pinged near O'Hare." I kept my voice level. "He's either already out of the city or makin
Adrian.The gates opened the moment I approached. Dexter fell into step beside me with a towel, draping it over my neck without being asked."Welcome home, sir."I didn't respond. He had a way of making it feel like one — the penthouse, the quiet efficiency, the complete absence of questions. Xena would have liked him. I handed the towel back and pushed toward the entrance.What I couldn't let pass was the park.I have never apologized to you.I'd meant it when I said it. That was the part that kept snagging. Not the accusation — I'd been accused of worse by people with better evidence — but the way she'd looked when I denied it. It was like those of someone whose internal math had just stopped working.Xena didn't make that kind of mistake.Light bled through the glass panel beside the front door.I stopped.I had switched them off before I left. Not the vague certainty of habit — the specific kind. I'd stood there with my hand still on the switch, the room already dark, nothing part







