Marcus Vale.
Lawsuits.
Old enemies smelling opportunity.
And somewhere across the ocean, a woman who had nearly died in my house was asking where I was.
Life had a strange sense of timing.
My phone buzzed against the counter.
Not the main phone.
The burner.
I picked it up.
Three messages from Darius.
Heard people talking.
Vale was one of them.
Says Delacroix has to die by the end of the year.
I have the recording on my Meta glasses.
I frowned slightly.
I dialed the only number saved in that phone.
Zay answered immediately.
“Yeah.”
I finished the rest of my drink.
“Let’s plot some shit.”
There was a chuckle on the other end.
Zay had known me too long to ask questions.
“Say less,” he said.
The line went dead.
I set the glass down and reached for my jacket.
Because sometimes checking temperatures meant reminding people exactly who was in charge of the room.
CHAPTER 33
Zay
FOUR DAYS LATER
“She Chose The Wrong Side”
