Sweat beads on my neck. I pull out my lighter and flick it. Once. Twice. Three times, watching the flames writhe.
Much like the flames on the night my parents and Beatrice died.
My eternal disease—obsession—flares, always focusing on things I should let go of for everyone’s sake.
Fire. Revenge.
Lana.
The air shifts—a loud crackle and a pop. The garage plunges into darkness.
Someone slides into the backseat. I grab my gun.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a distorted voice warns.
Light returns. I glance in the rearview mirror.
A man sprawls across the backseat, gun aimed at me, hood over his head, facial features not visible.
He’s fast and efficient. A skilled adversary.
“What do you want? Why all the theatrics?”
My voice is calm. Never show fear.
“Let’s just say I’m a friend.”
“A friend wouldn’t steal from me.”
He chuckles. “Not a friend then. An ally.”
The air stills as if the world’s stopped spinning. He’s giving nothing away—no tells, no behavioral quirks.
“Well then,ally,” I say, “you stole the kill ledger at the Benefaction. You took my wife’s package. You got me here. So talk. Stop wasting my time. What. Do. You. Want?”
I sense his smile even though I can’t see it.
“A favor for a favor. That’s your brand, isn’t it, Elias? Or should I say, Kian Leste?”
My jaw twitches, but I keep my composure. Mind games.
“I don’t do favors for strangers.”
“We’ve established I’m an ally.”
“Then give me something. A sign of good faith. Then we can talk.”
Leather creaks and he shuffles. An envelope slides into view.
“Everything you need is inside.” He opens the door and steps out. “Way more than ‘good faith.’ I just handed you your entire world. Remember, you owe me now.”
He turns around to leave, back facing me. A silver ring flashes on his finger.
I snatch up my gun and aim it at his back. “What makes you think I won’t shoot? You gave me the world after all. I have no more use for you.”
He laughs. “You wouldn’t. You’re too damn curious.”
A loud honk bellows to my left. I look away.
