“You knew running away wouldn’t end this.” Hadrian takes a bite. “You should have let me hire someone to get rid of him.”
I twirl a new noodle around my fork before letting it slide off the utensil. “Mercenaries on speed dial?”
“You knew he’d come after you. I’m disappointed you let it go on this long.”
My thigh begins to throb. I know it’s all in my head. The scar is healed, or at least as healed as it’ll ever be.
“You know what will happen.”
“Was this why you asked me to dinner?” I set my fork down. “Rub my nose in all the stupid choices I’ve ever made? Yeah, I fucking know what’s going to happen.”
“Then tell me.”Hadrian’s tone isn’t as agitated as mine. He’s spent years wining and dining investors. “Tell me, Isolde, what will happen.”
The condensation on the outside of the plastic cup wets my hand. I swirl my straw around, focusing on the bubbles instead of the bile rising up my throat.
“He’ll send a Spider.”
“He’ll send a Spider,” Hadrian repeats. His eyes glide over my shoulder, staring at the spot my friends sit. “You think your Tris will be able to take on a Spider?”
His words are meant to invoke fear. But I’m more pissed than anything.
“You shouldn’t have brought him into this.”
“You shouldn’t have ignored the problem,” Hadrian replies.
“Right, like how you ignore the way you’ve been a giant arsehole to the girl you love.”
His fingers tighten around his cutlery. “You need help, Isolde. So take the help.”
“Are we back to you hiring the mercenary?”
“You should tell them,” he says. “You’re going to need their help if you really want to do this. Take Cade on.”
I will not drag my friends into Cade’s mess of misery.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
Hadrian spears his food, not needing to voice his opinion.We’ve had this conversation several times now.
“Sammie would?—”
“Don’t.”
He ignores me. “Sammie would want you to?—”
“You don’t have to keep doing that. You don’t have tokeep acting like I’m your responsibility because you have some misguided loyalty to my dead sister.”
Sometimes, I think the both of us would have been better off if we’d parted ways long ago.
“You were good to my sister, but we both know the truth. After Oxford, you and Sammie would’ve never been together.”
His life had always led back to New York. Sammie wanted to give London a try. She’d been debating about grad school. Their relationship was never strong enough to withstand the Atlantic Ocean.
“You didn’t love my sister,” I say, my skin heating the more I talk. “You don’t have to pretend like you care about me.”
Hadrian is too respectable to snort. Bitter amusement lines his face before freezing into scornful fury.
“I didn’t love your sister,” he agrees. Hearing him say it twists my heart in a way I don’t want to feel. “I think you’re an annoying shit most of the time, Isolde. But I always help you, don’t I?”
