He signals the waitress. He brings two fresh cups without comment.
I wrap my hands around the warmth and stare into the black surface.
There’s still something he’s not saying.
I can feel it.
A shadow behind his eyes. A hesitation in the way he breathes when he thinks I’m not looking.
But I don’t push.
Notyet.
Because right now—sitting in a twenty-four-hour diner at not-quite-dawn, eating pancakes and drinking bad coffee with theman who’s risking everything to keep me alive—I decide I can wait a little longer for the rest of the truth.
I’ve waited this long.
What’s a few more hours?
Chapter 14
Ivan
After our early morning breakfast refuel, we walk back to the motel in near silence, our footsteps the only real sound against the empty pre-dawn road.
Landon keeps his hand in mine, fingers loosely threaded, and every few paces he gives a small squeeze—like he’s checking I’m still there. I squeeze back. The air is cold enough that our breath clouds in front of us, but neither of us hurries.
There is something almost ceremonial about the walk: two people who should be running, choosing instead to move slowly, deliberately, as though they can stretch these last quiet minutes before the world catches up.
Savor this.
Feel every moment.
You’re his Daddy now, you need to accept that…
When we reach the Accord, I open the passenger door for him. He slides in without comment, backpack settling between his feet, Claw safely tucked inside. I circle to the driver’s side, start the engine, and let the heater cough to life. The radio comes onautomatically—some soft pop station. Landon reaches over and turns the volume up a notch.
A familiar chart song from a few years back starts playing. He hums the intro, then begins to sing—quietly at first, then with growing confidence. Landon’s voice is clear, a little rough from sleep, but sweet. He knows every word. When the chorus hits he closes his eyes and sings louder, one hand tapping the rhythm against his thigh, the other still resting on my forearm.
I keep my eyes on the road.
The highway is nearly empty this early. Streetlights slide past in steady golden pulses. I drive with both hands on the wheel, ten and two, the way I was taught when I first learned to handle a car under pressure. My mind, though, is racing far ahead of the speedometer.
Viktor’s voice keeps replaying in my head—low, matter of fact,final.
The order to kill Landon hasn’t come yet. But it will. Sooner than forty-eight hours, probably. When it does, protocol is clear: execute immediately, no hesitation, no witnesses, proof sent within the hour.
I’ve done it before.
More times than I care to count.
I know the drill like the back of my hand.
Except this time the target is the boy currently singing off-key to a Olivia Rodrigo song in the passenger seat. And I just so happen to have some very real feelings for him.
For the first time in my life, I’m seeing what life could be like outside of the business. And it’s causing some major doubts to run wild in my mind.
I run the possibilities again, same as I did all night while he slept against my chest…
