Callum shakes his head. “We’re not here for him.”
I blink. “You’re… not?”
“Nope,” Cross says, already reaching for one of my notebooks. He flips it open, skimming. “He told us about your nonprofit.”
My chest tightens. “He did?”
Callum nods. “Asked me to help with the legal side. Outside counsel. Clean lines.”
Before I can respond, Cross looks up at me, eyes bright. “My wife—Samantha—would love to be the first to RSVP for your event.”
My throat closes.
I look down at the notebook in his hands. At my messy handwriting. My half-formed dreams.
And for the first time today—
I don’t feel small.
I feel… protected.
Seen.
And very, very aware that whatever Bekki thought she was doing—
She just walked into the wrong office.
The World Stops
Langston
Ihate Toronto.
Not the city itself. Not the skyline or the clean efficiency of the warehouse district or the fact that it’s one of the largest diamond distribution hubs in the world.
I hate that I’m here withouther.
The hotel room feels wrong—too quiet, too empty. I didn’t sleep worth a damn last night. I’m used to knowing where Sabrina is, even if we’re not sharing a bed. Used to hearing her move down the hall. Used to the quiet proof of her presence.
Now there’s nothing.
Just distance.
The warehouse tour runs long. Too long. Pallets of inventory stacked like fortresses, security protocols reviewed again and again. This facility should be airtight. Toronto is supposed to be one of our most reliable stops before shipments move south into the U.S.
And yet here I am, chasing another problem.
Another missing thread.
By the time I step into the private to take a call, my jaw is tight with frustration.
“Talk to me,” my father says without preamble. “Have you figured out what the hell is going on yet?”
“Yes,” I answer, steady. “The issue isn’t theft. It’s misrouting and temporary storage gaps. Too many hands. Too many middle points.”
“And?”
“And Sabrina’s father came through,” I say. “He secured a private warehouse—off the books. Direct transport from overseas straight into Toronto. No bouncing. No exposure.”
