A Transaction

ZADEN

The wedding is on the fourteenth.

It's in my calendar between a board meeting and a call with the Amsterdam team. It sits there looking exactly like what it is…an appointment. Something that needs to happen so something else can stop being a problem. I look at it the same way I look at everything else on that calendar and I feel nothing because I have more important things thinking about.

Her, for instance.

The girl from the street. The one I still haven't been able to find, which honestly is embarrassing at this point. I have an entire network built for exactly this kind of thing. People who find people. Resources that most organizations would kill for. And one human woman who walked through my boundary line on a Tuesday night has somehow managed to disappear so completely that thirty something days of looking has produced exactly zero useful results.

Either she's very good at not being found or I'm looking in the wrong places.

I open the desk drawer. Look at the bracelet. Close it again and move on.

Damian knocked at nine sharp the way he always does, three knocks, waits, comes in, says what needs saying, leaves. No small talk. Just business. It's one of my favourite things about him.

He ran through the morning report. I listened, made the calls that needed making, sent him off with a list.

He was almost at the door when I stopped him.

"The Castillo arrangements," I said. "Confirmed?"

"Yes. Family accepted the terms. Ceremony is set, legal team has the bonding documents ready for signatures." He paused, one of those Damian pauses that means something is coming. "Do you want a briefing on her? Background on who she?"

"No."

He waited.

"She's the Castillo girl," I said. "That's what she is. I don't need a file on a debt settlement."

"Of course." Another pause. "Is there anything else?"

There wasn't, so he left

I turned back to my screen and I did not think about the fact that somewhere across the city a twenty-something year old woman was about to have her entire life rearranged because of a debt her family owed mine. That's not my problem to think about. The debt is real. The terms are fair by pack standards. Everyone involved knew this was always a possibility when the original agreement was made twenty years ago.

It's business and I'm good at business.

Morning of the fourteenth.

Up at five thirty. Six miles. Same route. The city is still mostly dark and quiet except for the sounds of a place that never fully switches off. Shower. Dressed. Breakfast standing at the kitchen island reading the overnight security reports on my phone like every other morning.

The calendar notification popped up at eight.

Wedding 12:00pm

I swiped it away.

Damian had the car ready and I read Chase’s boundary report on the way,

The venue was a private hall the pack uses for formal arrangements. Clean, contained, no windows facing the street. Twelve people total, Damian, two elders whose presence tradition required, our legal rep, her father, a few others whose names I hadn't memorised because I didn't need to.

I stood at the front of the room and I waited.

And I thought about her.

Not the girl about to walk through those doors. The other one. The one from the street. I've been doing this thing lately where I reach for the details I have, the approximate height, the dark hair, the heartbeat under my fingers, the specific quality of the silence after the threat was gone and I try to build a clearer picture from them. It never works. The picture stays frustratingly incomplete no matter how many times I reach for it.

The doors opened.

I looked up because that's just what you do when doors open.

She walked in.

I did what I always do when something enters my space, ran a quick assessment. Height. Posture. Expression… Threat level.

Young. Early twenties. Dark hair pulled back with a few pieces loose. The dress fit perfectly. Her expression was…actually her expression was interesting. Not frightened. Not doing any of the things people usually do when they walk into a room that holds me.

She looked like a woman who had made a private decision and was in the middle of executing it. Whatever that decision was it lived entirely behind her eyes and she wasn't sharing it with anyone in this room.

Noted.

The ceremony took about eleven minutes.

I know because time awareness is just something I have. It's not intentional, I just always know how long things take.

We said our vows, which we didn't mean obviously and every person in that room knew it.

She said her words in the same even tone she walked in with. No wobble. No hesitation. No moment where the composure cracked even slightly. I'll be honest, I noticed that. Not many people manage to not crack in front of me. She didn't even come close.

I said mine.

Then it was time to sign. The pen was cold when as I signed, then I handed it to her without looking.

The car ride back was quiet.

I had calls to make. I made them. Sent Damian a message about the perimeter and read two more reports.

She sat on her side of the seat and looked out the window at the city going past.

I didn't speak to her.

She didn't speak to me.

We arrived at the house. I got out. Went straight to my office. Sat down at my desk and opened the drawer.

The bracelet sat exactly where I left it, same as always, going nowhere

I looked at it for a moment.

Then I closed the drawer, opened my laptop, and got back to the boundary situation because that was an actual problem that required my attention.