We stood there, inches apart, the air between us still crackling with everything we'd just done and everything we hadn't said.
"Then let's go find it," I said.
The Bentley driver was still waiting when I texted the number he'd given me.
He pulled up to the Embassy Suites twenty minutes later, the same sleek black car, the same calm professionalism.
"Morning again, sir," he said, opening the rear door.
"Morning," I replied.
Amelia slid in beside me, laptop bag over her shoulder, a small recorder tucked into her pocket. She'd come prepared.
The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror but didn't comment.
"Dominion Hall?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
He nodded and pulled into traffic.
Charleston rolled past the windows—same pastel buildings, same live oaks, same oppressive humidity pressing in from all sides. But it felt different now. Less like a new beginning and more like walking into an ambush I should've seen coming.
Amelia sat rigid beside me, staring out the window, fingers drumming lightly against her thigh.
"You nervous?" I asked quietly.
"No," she said.
Liar.
I could see the tension in her jaw, the way her pulse jumped at her throat. She was running on adrenaline and caffeine and the kind of determination that had gotten her into—and out of—war zones most people only saw on TV.
"You should be," I said.
She turned to look at me. "Why? You think they're dangerous?"
"I think anyone with that much money and that much secrecy is dangerous," I said. "You taught me that."
Her mouth twitched. Almost a smile. "I taught you a lot of things."
"Yeah," I said. "You did."
The silence stretched between us, heavier now.
We turned onto the private road, the tunnel of live oaks closing in overhead. The gates appeared—iron, tall, ominous in the morning light.
They swung open.
Dominion Hall rose ahead like a monument to power I didn't understand yet.
The driver stopped at the entrance. "Here we are, sir."
I climbed out first, then turned to offer Amelia my hand. She took it. Briefly. We stood side by side, staring up at the mansion.
"Last chance to turn back," I said.
She looked at me, eyes fierce. "Not a chance in hell."
