로그인CHAPTER SIXTEENPOV: DamonSix years.Six years and the man still had the same voice. Low and measured and completely unhurried in the way that powerful men were unhurried because they’d never had to rush for anything in their lives. Because things came to them. Because they sent other people to do the moving and sat still at the centre of everything like a weight that bent everything toward it.Damon took the phone from Zara’s hand.Put it to his ear.“Gerald,” he said.“Damon.” Almost warm. Almost fond. “It’s been a long time.”“Not long enough.”A pause. Then something that might have been a laugh. “You’ve done well for yourself. I’ve been watching.”“I know.”“Then you know I’m not here to cause trouble.”“You’re sitting outside my best friend’s house at eight in the morning after having us surveilled for months.” He kept his voice flat. “What exactly would causing trouble look like.”“I’d like to talk. That’s all. Just a conversation.” Another pause. “Invite me in, Damon. Let’s d
CHAPTER FIFTEEN POV: Zara She fell asleep on the kitchen floor. She didn’t mean to. One minute she was sitting there with Damon’s hand in hers listening to the house breathe and the next she was waking up with her cheek against his shoulder and grey light coming through the window and the particular stiffness of a body that had spent four hours on tile. She lifted her head. He was already awake. Had been for a while she suspected. Sitting completely still, eyes forward, thinking in that deep quiet way he had that looked like nothing from the outside and was everything on the inside. He felt her move and looked down. “Morning,” he said. “How long was I asleep.” “Three hours maybe.” She straightened. Rolled her neck. Looked at the window and the grey morning beyond it and remembered everything in approximately two seconds. Ryan. The camera. Osei. Leila. The engine outside that had been idling when she closed her eyes. She stood up fast. Went to the window. The street was em
CHAPTER FOURTEENPOV: DamonMarcus opened the door in grey sweatpants and an old university hoodie and took one look at Damon’s face and stepped back to let him in without a word.That was Marcus.Always had been.The room was dark except for the bedside lamp. Marcus sat on the edge of the bed. Damon sat in the chair by the window. The same window that looked out over the garden where two hours ago police officers had dug a camera out of the fence.The house was quiet around them.“Talk,” Marcus said.So Damon talked.He started at nineteen. At the job that wasn’t really a job. At Gerald Osei and the transactions and the six months of deliberate ignorance followed by a year of knowing and staying anyway. He said it plainly, the way he’d said it to Zara, no performance, no mitigation, just the shape of what happened laid out flat.Marcus listened without interrupting.That was unusual enough to be significant. Marcus interrupted everything. It was his primary mode of communication. The
CHAPTER THIRTEEN POV: Zara She read it three times. Local businessman Damon Reid linked to criminal investigation, sources claim financial misconduct spanning five years. Reid. Not Cole. Not the street name he’d carried so long everyone forgot it wasn’t his birth name. Reid. She’d never known his last name was Reid. Had never thought to ask. He was just Damon. Had always been just Damon. The name Cole was Marcus’s, was hers, was a thing Damon had borrowed and worn so naturally nobody questioned it. But Reid. Reid meant something. She looked up from the phone. He was reading the same article on his own screen now, jaw locked, face completely closed. The controlled stillness again but different this time. Deeper. Like something underneath had gone very quiet in the way things did right before they broke. “Damon.” He didn’t answer. “Damon look at me.” He looked up. His eyes were steady but there was something behind them she hadn’t seen before. Not fear exactly. Something o
CHAPTER TWELVEPOV: ZaraShe’d been sitting in Ryan’s car for twenty minutes.Talking about nothing. Watching the clock. Telling herself Marcus just needed time, that Damon could handle it, that everything was going to be fine in the way she’d been telling herself things were fine all weekend and been wrong every single time.Then Ryan’s phone rang.She didn’t see the screen. He angled it away, small movement, barely anything, the kind of thing you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t already hyperaware of every tiny deviation from normal.She noticed.“Who’s that?” she asked.“Work thing.” He silenced it. Put the phone face down on his thigh.She looked at him. At his profile in the dark car. At the slight tension around his jaw that hadn’t been there an hour ago.“On a Saturday night?”“You know how it is.” Easy. Smooth. He reached over and squeezed her hand. “You should go back in. Get your medication.”“Right.” She didn’t move.His phone lit up again on his thigh. Face down. Screen blee
CHAPTER ELEVENPOV: DamonHe’d known this moment was coming.Not like this. Not with Marcus sitting on the couch with his head in his hands looking like someone had taken something from him that he couldn’t get back. But the moment itself, the reckoning, he’d known it existed somewhere ahead of him the second he’d decided to come this weekend.Maybe before that.Maybe the night of the barbecue in the green dress when he’d looked at Zara and felt something shift permanently and known with absolute clarity that he was in serious trouble.He stood in the middle of Marcus’s living room and waited.Marcus didn’t look up for a long time.When he did his eyes were red at the edges. Not crying. Close to it. Marcus had cried exactly twice in the time Damon had known him, at his mother’s funeral and the night his first serious girlfriend left. Both times he’d been angry about it afterward. Both times he’d needed space.Damon stayed where he was. Gave him nothing to push against.“How long,” Mar







