Something important enough to send him here personally instead of simply waiting for me to eventually return to the Sanctuary.
He entered the restaurant smoothly, approached our table with perfect military posture barely disguised as civilian politeness, and stopped at a respectful distance.
"Apologies for the interruption," he said with that crisp British accent.
I tried somewhat awkwardly to introduce him, brain scrambling for a title that would make any kind of reasonable sense to Ella without revealing too much.
"This is ... Ellsworth. He's the—" I hesitated visibly, caught between truth and necessary cover story.
"Butler," Ellsworth supplied with practiced, unshakeable calm. "At the residence where Mr. Black is currently staying during his time in Paris."
Ella blinked several times, clearly processing this unexpected information. "Butler?"
"Indeed, Miss." He turned his full attention back to me with meaning. "I'm afraid there's a rather urgent message I must relay to Mr. Black. Would you mind terribly if he stepped away for just a brief moment?"
Ella nodded slowly, reading the subtext even if she didn't fully understand it yet. "Of course."
But there was a look in her eyes that I couldn't quite decode completely.
Uncertainty, definitely. Concern. Maybe growing suspicion about what exactly I was involved in.
I wasn't sure if her reaction was because a British butler had just appeared completely out of nowhere, or because she was picking up instinctively on the genuine tension underneath all the careful politeness.
Probably both.
She was far too observant and intelligent to miss the wrongness entirely.
I stood, excused myself quietly with an apologetic look, and followed Ellsworth outside to a spot about twenty meters down the street where we'd have adequate hearing space from passing pedestrians.
"I left my phone at the apartment," I said immediately, explaining the communication breakdown. "Completely forgot it."
Ellsworth ignored the admission entirely, getting straight to what actually mattered.
"The man you killed," he began without preamble or diplomatic softening. "He wasn't just hired muscle or local talent. He was genuinely well-placed within a certain prominent European organization. One known internationally for its extensive reach, remarkably long institutional memory, and very particular reluctance to forgive perceived transgressions against its various interests."
I understood immediately what he wasn't saying directly out loud.
Mafia. Or something functionally identical operating under different cultural branding.
"Why does that specifically matter to us?" I asked carefully.
"Because Connor believes he's finally connected the relevant dots we've been missing. The organization behind the resurgence of your alma mater appears to have significant operational ties to this particular group. Substantial financial backing. Shared infrastructure. Active protection."
My jaw tightened as implications cascaded rapidly. "I'm guessing that means the situation is considerably worse than we thought."
Ellsworth nodded once, still maintaining that unshakeable professional calm. "Complicated, certainly. But not without potential advantages."
"Is Connor pissed at me for this?" I asked, already jumping to that likely conclusion.
Ellsworth actually smiled faintly, something almost genuinely amused flickering across his usually impassive features. "No. Quite the opposite, actually. This is the significantbreak we've been looking for. The solid crumb of actionable intelligence that has eluded us despite considerable effort and resources."
"But?" I prompted, knowing there had to be more.
"But it's not remotely safe for you to remain here in public like this. Not anymore. Not after what you did. Despite the considerable eyes my men have maintained on your position throughout the day."
I looked back toward the restaurant window automatically.
Saw Ella still sitting at our table, concern clear and readable on her beautiful face, even from this distance.
