Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Argument

Felix called me at seven in the morning.

I was already awake. I'd been awake since five. The photograph of my mother was still on my nightstand. I'd looked at it three times before the sun came up.

"Volkov is moving," Felix said.

I sat up. "What do you mean?"

"He's transferring assets. Closing accounts. Pulling out of investments. He's liquidating."

I was already out of bed. Already reaching for clothes.

"How much time?"

"A day. Maybe two. Once he's liquid, he's gone."

"I'm on my way."

I hung up. I dressed in four minutes. I walked to Adrian's office. He was already there. He was already on the phone.

I waited. He hung up.

"Volkov," he said.

"I know."

"He's running."

"We can't let him."

Adrian looked at me. His jaw was tight. "We won't. I'm moving the team now. We freeze what we can. We track what we can't."

"I want to be there."

"No."

I stared at him. "What?"

"You're not coming. It's too dangerous. Volkov has people everywhere. If he sees you—"

"He won't see me. I'll stay in the car. I'll stay with Sloane."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so."

I felt something cold settle in my chest. Not anger. Something more permanent.

"You said so," I repeated.

Adrian looked at me. He didn't blink. "That's right."

"I'm not a child. I'm not an employee. I'm your partner. Or have you forgotten?"

"I haven't forgotten."

"Then stop treating me like I'm made of glass."

He walked toward me. He stopped a few feet away.

"I'm not treating you like you're made of glass. I'm treating you like you're the only thing that matters."

I stared at him. I didn't know what to say.

"I've spent fifteen years alone," he said. "I've spent fifteen years planning. I've spent fifteen years not caring if I lived or died. And then you walked into my office. And now I care. I care too much. And I can't—"

He stopped. He looked away.

"You can't what?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

"Adrian."

He turned. He looked at me. His eyes were dark. Unreadable.

"I can't lose you," he said. "I can't."

I didn't respond. I didn't know how.

We stood there. The office was quiet. The city hummed outside.

"I'm not going to break," I said.

"I know."

"I'm not going to die."

"You don't know that."

"I know enough."

He held my gaze. Neither of us spoke.

"Let me come," I said. "Not because I need to be there. Because I need to be with you."

He was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded.

"Fine," he said. "But you stay with Sloane. You don't leave the car. You don't do anything without my say."

"Agreed."

He reached for his coat. He didn't reach for me.

"Let's go," he said.

---

We drove to Volkov's office in silence.

The building was downtown. Glass. Steel. The kind of place that looked legitimate. Sloane parked across the street. Adrian got out. He looked at me.

"Stay here."

"I know."

He nodded. He walked toward the building. Sloane followed.

I stayed in the car. I watched them go. I didn't move.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty.

I saw Adrian come out. He was on the phone. His face was tight.

He got in the car.

"He's gone," he said.

"What?"

"Volkov. He's gone. The office is empty. The accounts are closed. He's disappeared."

I stared at him. "How?"

"He knew we were coming. Someone tipped him off."

"Who?"

"I don't know. But I'm going to find out."

He started the car. We drove back to the penthouse in silence.

---

That night, I found Adrian in his office.

He was standing at the window. He didn't turn when I entered.

"He's gone," he said. "Volkov. He's gone."

"I know."

"He was the key. Without him, we can't connect Henry to the organized crime. We can't prove the money laundering. We can't—"

"We can," I said.

He turned. He looked at me.

"We have the evidence. We have the documents. We have Victor. We have Daniel. We have everything we need. Volkov was just the final piece. We don't need him."

Adrian was quiet. Then he said, "You're right."

"I know."

He almost smiled. Almost.

"We're not done," I said. "We're not even close. Volkov running means he's scared. It means he knows we're winning."

Adrian looked at me. He looked at me the way he had the first time I walked into his office.

"You're different," he said.

"Different how?"

"Stronger."

I didn't respond. I didn't know how.

He turned back to the window. He didn't reach for me. He didn't take my hand.

"Get some sleep," he said. "We start again tomorrow."

I left. I walked to my room. I closed the door.

I didn't sleep.