We didn’t sleep.The boathouse stayed quiet after the sirens faded, the kind of quiet that pretends safety until you believe it. Adrian pressed gauze to his side, jaw set, eyes sharp despite the blood.“Sit,” I said.“I’m fine.”“You’re bleeding,” I replied. “That makes you negotiable.”His mouth twitched. He sat.I knelt, hands steady, and tightened the wrap. He watched me like he was memorizing the way I moved.“You broke my rule,” he said.“I made my own,” I answered. “I don’t run anymore.”A pause. Then: “That will cost you.”“I know.”Outside, water lapped against rotten wood. Inside, the truth waited.“You said my father’s name was still on a ledger,” I said. “Start there.”Adrian exhaled slowly. “Your family financed a shell company ten years ago. It laundered money through three cities and paid for favors that ended careers.”“I was nineteen,” I said.“I know,” he replied. “You weren’t involved.”“Then why am I here?”“Because leverage ages well,” he said. “And because someone
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