I reach for my phone, unlock the screen, and pull up the message I drafted an hour ago. I chose text over a call because it gives her space rather than pressure, and time to considerinstead of react. I won’t corner her with my voice or force a decision she hasn’t reached on her own.
I'd like to see you again. Are you free this week? -Kiren
It's direct and clear. Gives her control without demanding anything she isn't ready to offer.
I read it three more times before hitting send.
The response arrives faster than I expect, less than ten minutes later.
Rowan:I have a few hours free tomorrow afternoon. Coffee?
I consider the offer for a moment before typing my reply.
Dinner instead. Let me take you somewhere quieter than a coffee shop.
The pause before her next message is longer, and I can picture her considering the implications. Coffee is safe, public, and easy to leave. Dinner is more intimate, requires commitment, and suggests intention beyond casual conversation.
When her response finally arrives, relief surfaces before I can suppress it.
Rowan:Okay. Where?
I'll pick you up at seven. Send me your address.
Another pause, shorter this time.
Rowan:I can meet you there.
I allow myself a small smile at her caution. She's not ready to trust me with her home address yet, and I respect that even as I plan to have Polina locate it anyway. Information is protection and protecting her has already become non-negotiable.
Then meet me at Sovarin headquarters. I'll have a car waiting.
Rowan:That works. See you tomorrow.
I set the phone down and lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling while my mind races ahead to tomorrow evening. Twenty-four hours. Enough time to finalize the security arrangements already in motion and ensure Leo’s team covers every entrance and exit. Enough to guarantee that when I take her to dinner, the threats that follow me remain out of reach.
Mikel was right. I'm making this complicated. But the alternative is walking away, and that option disappeared the moment she knelt beside me in that alley and pressed her scarf into my wound.
The following evening, I arrive at headquarters thirty minutes early, positioning myself in the lobby where I can watch the entrance without being immediately visible. The building is mostly empty at this hour, the daytime staff long gone and the skeleton crew working late tucked away on upper floors. The security team knows to expect her, and Leo has already confirmed that the route to the restaurant is clear.
Rowan arrives exactly at seven, pushing through the glass doors with her coat pulled tight against the cold. Her cheeks are flushed from the walk, her hair gathered in a loose braid that hangs over one shoulder. She spots me immediately, caution giving way to uncertainty as she crosses the marble floor.
“You're early,” she observes.
“Punctuality matters,” I reply, moving toward her. “Thank you for coming.”
“I almost didn't,” she admits quietly, her thumb brushing along the seam of her coat.
“What changed your mind?”
She hesitates, her eyes dropping briefly before meeting mine again. “Curiosity.”
“I'll take it.” The words leave me as I straighten, already turning toward the exit.
The car is waiting outside, a black sedan with tinted windows that Leo is driving tonight. I open the rear door for Rowan, waiting until she’s seated before closing it and moving around to the other side. The interior is warm, the leather seats soft beneath me as I lower myself carefully.
“Where are we going?” she asks as Leo pulls into traffic.
“A place I think you'll like,” I answer. “Quiet. Private. Good food.”
