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Chapter 78: Bad Takeout and Good Ideas

last update publish date: 2026-05-21 09:04:15

The Mercer Hotel pitch was Nicolas’s idea, but by the time we were three weeks in it had become mine.

That is how good projects work. You do not claim them. They just start living in you the way certain songs do, the ones you hear once and then catch yourself humming in the shower three days later without knowing when they moved in. The Mercer brief asked us to reposition a boutique hotel group for a younger, design-conscious traveler without losing the quiet luxury that made the hotels worth s
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  • THE PRICE OF LETTING GO   Chapter 128: The signal

    Reyes did not stay to watch us leave.He gathered his folder, nodded once to his camera crew, and walked out through a side door before Dominic could say another word to him. The room emptied slowly after that, strangers filing out in twos and threes, murmuring to each other, glancing back at us like we were the actual show.Camille sank into the nearest chair the moment the last stranger left, her whole body deflating at once. “I have never in my life been so tired and so awake at the same time.”“That was a warning shot,” Fletcher said, once the last of them had gone. “Nothing more.”“It felt like more than that,” I said. My hands were still shaking, adrenaline draining out of me all at once now that the room had gone quiet. I sat down hard in the chair nearest me, my legs finally admitting they’d been holding me up on will alone.Petra sat down hard in one of the empty chairs, favoring her hurt leg. “I keep thinking about my phone,” she said. “The text that sent itself. Nobody ever

  • THE PRICE OF LETTING GO   Chapter 127: Nine -Sharp

    Nobody slept.By six in the morning we were all still at Fletcher’s townhouse, coffee going cold in mismatched mugs, Petra’s leg propped up and iced for the third time. Camille had fallen asleep sitting up around four and woken with a crick in her neck she kept rubbing without noticing she was doing it. Adrienne paced the length of the room in slow circles, phone pressed to her ear more often than not.“We go in together,” Dominic said. “Nobody splits off.”“Someone should stay with Petra,” Camille said. “She can’t run if something happens.”“I can run fine,” Petra said, already shifting to sit up straighter.“You limped into a coffee shop yesterday.”“I limped into a coffee shop after fighting off a man twice my size in a parking garage. I think I’ve earned the right to decide for myself.”“That’s not the point.”“It is exactly the point.”“Enough.” Dominic’s voice cut through both of them, sharp, his hand raised slightly like he could physically stop the argument. “We’re not doing t

  • THE PRICE OF LETTING GO   Chapter 126: The Call

    My phone rang while Fletcher was still staring at his ruined list.Unknown number. Not the same one as before.I looked at Dominic. He nodded once, tight, and reached over to put it on speaker before I’d even decided to answer. Camille and Petra both went still on the couch, and Fletcher set down his pen, his whole body angled toward the phone now instead of the paper.I picked up. “Hello.”“Selene Whitmore.” The voice was calm, almost pleasant, nothing like I’d imagined from a recording and a string of threats. “I’ve been wanting to actually talk to you for some time now.”My whole body went cold. Dominic’s hand found my shoulder, steadying, his grip tightening with every word that came through the speaker. Fletcher rose halfway out of his chair before catching himself and sitting back down, hands flat on his knees like he needed something to hold onto that wasn’t a phone he had no control over.“Marcus Reyes,” I said.“You know my name. Good. Saves us both some time.”“What do you w

  • THE PRICE OF LETTING GO   Chapter 125:: Rosalind

    Fletcher opened the door before we even reached it, like he’d been standing there waiting.“I got Dominic’s message,” he said. “Come in. All of you.”His townhouse felt different this time. Warmer somehow, lived in, lamps already lit in the front room like he’d known we would need light more than anything else tonight. He’d set out water glasses on the table without being asked, more of them than the five of us needed, like he’d been preparing for a crowd larger than the one that actually showed up.Petra limped in last, leaning heavily on Camille, and Fletcher’s eyes went to her leg immediately.“Sit,” he said, pulling a cushion from another chair and setting it under the coffee table for her foot before anyone else had even taken off their coat. “I’ll get ice.”Dominic set the picture frame down on the coffee table without a word. Fletcher paused halfway to the kitchen, looked at it, and something crossed his face I couldn’t quite read.“Rosalind,” he said quietly.“You knew her,” I

  • THE PRICE OF LETTING GO   Chapter 124: The Box

    “Everyone out of the apartment. Now.”The specialist’s voice left no room for argument. She was already moving toward the door, the box cradled carefully in both gloved hands, her body angled to keep it as far from her own chest as possible.Dominic grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the hallway. Camille had Petra’s other side, half carrying her, and we all pressed against the far wall as the specialist carried the box past us, slow, deliberate, each step measured like the floor itself might betray her.“Stairwell,” she said. “Not the elevator. Go.”We went.I don’t remember most of the stairs. I remember Dominic’s hand never leaving mine, gripping so tight it hurt, and I remember Petra’s breath coming in short gasps beside me, her hurt ankle screaming with every step but her mouth never once complaining. Camille’s arm stayed locked around Petra’s waist the whole way down, both of them moving as one unsteady unit past floor after floor of doors that stayed shut, neighbors with no

  • THE PRICE OF LETTING GO   Chapter 123: What They Found

    The waiting was the worst part.Camille kept both hands wrapped around mine, tight enough to hurt, and neither of us said anything for a long time. The garage entrance sat there in the dark, swallowing the world, giving nothing back. Somewhere above us, four floors up maybe, or five, I couldn’t tell anymore, three people I loved were looking for a fourth.I counted the seconds by my own pulse, because it was the only clock I had that felt honest.Then my phone rang.Dominic.I answered so fast I nearly dropped it. “Tell me.”“We found her.” His voice was rough, out of breath. “Selene, we found her.”“Is she okay?”A pause that lasted too long. I heard footsteps on his end, uneven, someone half walking and half being carried.“She’s alive,” he said. “She’s hurt. Not too bad, I don’t think, but she’s scared and she’s shaking and she needs a hospital.”“What happened?”“Reyes never showed up. He sent someone else instead. She got separated from the security team in a stairwell, someone g

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