I can still feel his touch, ghosting over my skin like goosebumps.
I let out a sigh that deflates my entire spine. Who am I kidding? I’m not getting anything done today. I’ve refreshed the same spreadsheet four times and stared at the blinking cursor for so long it’s starting to look like a word. There’s nothing urgent in my inbox, no looming deadline I can use as an excuse to stay.
I glance up at the clock. It’s barely two. Maybe I’ll take a walk. Clear my head.
I shut my laptop and gather my things, slipping my coat over my shoulders with a sigh that feels heavier than it should.
Part of me hesitates, hoping I’ll bump into Yuri on the way out. That he’ll round the corner with his unreadable expression and say something low and sexy, the way he always does when no one else is around.
I leave the office and step out into the misty afternoon, the air cool and damp against my cheeks. The sky’s a dull grey, suiting my mood perfectly.
With too much time to sit around and stew, I head to my usual spot—a coffee shop tucked behind the tower, cozy and quiet, with old jazz records playing just loud enough to be charming. I used to come here for espresso so strong it could kill a man. Now, it’s decaf tea and oat milk, thanks to the baby.
“Decaf English breakfast,” I tell the barista. “Oat milk. Extra honey.”
I find a seat by the window and sink into it, wrapping my hands around the mug. The heat feels good, anchoring. I take a sip, breathing in the scent of the tea. For a moment, everything stills.
“Astrid.” The sound of my name cuts through the café noise like a knife, and I freeze.
I look up slowly, already aware of who said it. Standing beside my table, wearing a smug expression, is Agent Spalding. No suit today. No badge. Just jeans, a black jacket, and the unmistakable glint of someone who knows something I don’t.
“Mind if I sit?” he asks, already sliding into the chair across from me like this is a lunch date and not an ambush.
I don’t answer right away. My grip tightens on the mug, and my heart starts ticking faster. I set my tea down slowly. “I’d say you just did.”
Agent Spalding smiles. Up close, his face is all angles and ambition, with the kind of grin men wear when they’re used to getting what they want. He appears completely calm and comfortable. His hair and face is damp from the drizzle, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. Of course not. Sharks need water.
“You’re a hard woman to catch outside the tower,” he says. “I was beginning to think you didn’t take breaks.”
“I don’t,” I respond coolly.
He chuckles, tapping a finger against his coffee cup he obviously ordered earlier. So, this wasn’t chance. He was waiting for me.
“I’ll get to the point,” he says, and the charm slips away. “I know you’ve been digging into what happened to your parents.”
My stomach tightens, but my face is expressionless. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on, Astrid. Paris? That little side trip? Thierry and Melanie Devereaux weren’t exactly nobodies. And they didn’t just die.” He leans forward, voice dropping. “They were erased.”
A beat of silence.
“But you already know that don’t you?”
I meet his gaze as steadily as I can manage. “If you have something to say, Agent Spalding, say it. Otherwise, I have somewhere to be.”
He reaches into his coat and pulls out a slim envelope, setting it on the table between us.
“I’m not here to threaten you,” he says, patting it once. “I’m offering you the truth.”
“Truth doesn’t usually come from people like you,” I say, ignoring the envelope.
“It does when it’s important. And it does when the consequences of not knowing the truth puts lives at risk.” He leans back in the chair, staring at me. “You’re in deeper than you realize, Astrid. These people—Yuri, his family—they’re full of secrets. And you’re what, a month in? Do you really think they’ll ever let you see the full picture?”
I clench my jaw. He’s not entirely wrong, and that’s what makes it dangerous. He senses it, too—my hesitation. Like a bloodhound catching the scent.
“What exactly are you asking of me?”
He smiles again as if I’ve just stepped onto his side of the board. “Help me finish what your parents started. They were close to exposing something—financials, ties to the Smirnov family, laundering pipelines. Thierry got too close so they killed him. You help me take them down, you’ll get your answers. Closure. Justice. And if you happen to catch a few incriminating bits of information here and there, evidence that could help me put them away, even better.”
