INICIAR SESIÓNXena."The glass," I said.Adrian looked at me."I knocked it off the table." I held his gaze with Hannah's specific steadiness. "Reaching for my clutch. It was an accident." A beat. "Margaret was dramatic about it."Something moved across his face.He looked at me for three seconds. He had weight in every one of them.Then he looked back at the document in his hand."She was dramatic about it," his smile dropped a bit."She's a dramatic woman."He turned the page.I looked at the window and let my shoulders do absolutely nothing that would tell him what the last thirty seconds had cost meThursday arrived the way days arrive when you've been dreading them. Even I didn’t get it, all of a sudden it was morning and the consortium building was waiting somewhere on the other side of it.I stood in the guest bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.Hannah Cross.I'd spent the last two days becoming her in the small ways that mattered. The way she held her coffee. The way she moved thro
Dante.The club had no sign outside.That was the point. If you needed to know where it was someone had already told you and if nobody had told you then you didn't belong there. I'd been a member for eleven years and had used it exactly four times — each one a conversation that couldn't happen anywhere with walls that talked.Tonight made five.Axel was already there when I arrived.Of course he was. He'd chosen the corner table — back to the wall, clear sightline to both entrances, nobody within comfortable earshot. I noted that when I crossed the room. Whatever else Axel Darwin was he wasn't careless.He watched me sit down without saying anything.The server came. We both ordered without looking at the menu. The server left and the room went back to its particular quality. "You look terrible," Axel placed his hands on the table."Thank you for coming," I said.He looked at me with the expression of a man who had decided how he felt about being here and wasn't going to perform oth
Xena.I woke up knowing three things.My name was Hannah Cross. I had been released from custody after questioning. And somewhere in this penthouse Adrian Yale was already awake, working and filing things about me that I hadn't given him permission to file.I lay on the ceiling for a moment.Get up.The guest room was nice. Everything in it was correct and none of it had the quality of somewhere a person actually lived.I sat up.Hannah in the morning. Hannah woke up slowly and deliberately. Hannah took up space in a bathroom like she'd paid for it. Hannah never rushed and never looked like she was thinking too hard about anything.I could do that.I brushed my teeth and looked at my face in the mirror and had the specific experience of seeing myself and seeing someone else simultaneously. Same face. Different person underneath.Thursday, I thought. Just get to Thursday.He was at the desk when I came out.Jacket off, sleeves pushed to the elbow, consortium documents spread in a speci
Reeves.The word sat in the hallway between us.Uncle.I looked at Hannah's face. She was doing the thing she did when she'd committed to something and was waiting to find out what it cost her — chin up, shoulders back, eyes steady in the specific way of someone performing steady because the alternative was visible."Where did you hear that?" I said."The records room." She didn't flinch. "The visit in March. Two years ago. You left me waiting for forty minutes and I got bored and the cabinet wasn't locked and—" She stopped. "You know what I found.""I know what you think you found.""I found your adoption certificate." Her voice was even. "I found the Yale family tree with your name on it. I found a letter from the patriarch to his lawyer about restructuring the inheritance after Gerald and Dante were born." She looked at me. "I know what I found."I looked at her for a long moment.Then I moved past her down the hallway toward the kitchen.She followed. Of course she followed. Hanna
Reeves.The bourbon was two fingers and going warm.I left it on the desk and picked up the phone."Move him tonight," I said when the line connected. "There's a property outside Elgin. I'll send the address in twenty minutes." I looked out the window. The woods outside were doing nothing. "Keep him breathing."The line went dead.I sent the address and put the phone down and picked up the bourbon.It had gone past warm into something else. I drank it anyway.Gerald was next. Now people would say I’m working with a list. No, there was no list. Gerald was next because Gerald was always next, always the variable that needed managing before it managed itself into something inconvenient. I'd learned that about him in the first year. He was useful the way a door was useful — functional, necessary, and incapable of deciding anything about where it opened.He picked up on the third ring."It's late," he said."Thursday meeting," I said. "Adrian confirmed?"A pause. Gerald arranging himself.
Dante.I dropped the phone on the desk.Not on purpose. My hand just stopped caring about it somewhere between reading the same paragraph for the fourth time and realising I hadn't actually absorbed any of it. It hit the wood and I left it there and stood up.Sitting in that room for another minute wasn't going to produce anything new.I came out into the hallway.Then stopped when I noticed there was someone on my couch.I nearly laughed my ass off when I realized who it was. Victor. Jacket off, one arm thrown over the back cushion, the television on low in front of him like he lived here. He looked up when he heard me and had the nerve to smile."Looking older than your age, man."I stared at him. "I'm in my forties. Quite young considering this generation."He scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that."Something came out of me that I hadn't planned. Not quite a smile but close enough that Victor's expression shifted in a way that meant he'd clocked it."Wasn't expecting you," I said.
Xena.“Madam Xena.”I had one foot out of my heel and half my attention on the coffee in my hand when Jerome appeared beside my desk looking deeply uncomfortable.That was never a good sign.I looked up slowly. “Why do you look like someone died?”His expression shifted immediately. “No— no one die
Dante.By the morning of the birthday gathering, the evidence package had grown thick enough to qualify as a small weapon.Which felt appropriate.I stood in the study flipping through the final copies while Victor reviewed security placement near the door.“Hannah's confirmed attendance,” he said.
Dante.By the time the jet took off, I had already reviewed the Zurich meeting file three times and learned absolutely nothing useful from any of those attempts because my attention kept drifting approximately six feet to the left.Which was inefficient.Xena sat across from me in one of the leathe
Xena.I carried the envelope around the house for six hours before finally admitting I was being ridiculous.Not strategically cautious. Not carefully observant.Ridiculous.Because every time I told myself I was still deciding whether to give it to Dante, my brain immediately followed it with, you







