I stared at him.
"You get protection," he said. "Resources. And you get to root out the cancer. Bury it in a deep grave, piece by piece. Then help protect your brothers."
It sounded too good to be true.
I told him as much.
Micah didn't argue. Instead, he reached into his pocket and slid a black card across the side table.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Pick it up."
I did.
The moment my fingers touched it, the card glowed red. Bright. Pulsing. Then it faded back to black.
I turned it over in my hand, heart kicking. "What the hell?"
"It's tuned to your DNA," Micah said. "Only you can use it. It's your key in. Your credit card. Your proof of identity."
I stared at the card. "You're serious."
"Unlimited purchasing power," Micah said. "But have a purpose. No itemized reports needed. Use it wisely."
I couldn't quite process that. "There's really no limit?"
Micah grinned. "None. But don't buy a yacht just to see if it works."
I almost laughed. Almost.
Then Micah said something that knocked me sideways.
"You're free to invite friends or companions into The Sanctuary."
My mind went straight to Mila.
No.
I couldn't do that. Couldn't drag her into this mess.
But the thought stuck, burrowing in. Maybe just dinner. Something normal. Something that didn't involve guns and encrypted messages and men from my past trying to kill me.
Yeah. That was the way.
Micah finished his drink and stood. "One more thing."
I looked up.
"Your old friends," he said. "They're in Paris. And they're sniffing. So keep your head down, but eyes out."
My blood went cold.
Micah set his glass on the mantle and headed for the door. "I've got to fly back to Charleston."
"What's in Charleston?" I asked.
He grinned over his shoulder. "If you survive this, maybe you'll get to see."
