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“Not like this.”

I looked back at the phone though there was nothing to see but her name and the call timer moving forward second by second.

“Explain,” I said.

“Word on the street is that there is a special woman in your life,” she replied. There wasn’t a hint of jealousy in her comment, but I could tell she was curious to know if the rumors were true.

“Word on the street…” I repeated and let my voice trail off.

“It’s an ugly phrase, I know. Very pedestrian. But accurate enough.”

“There is no street you listen to unless it’s paved in blackmail and membership dues.”

“Flattery,” she said, “will not make me forget the question even if it does get you everywhere.”

“You haven’t asked one.”

“I was being polite.”

“You’ve never valued politeness where I’m concerned.”

“No,” Delphine said as the amusement faded from her voice. “I valued discretion. So did you, once.”

I knew that was a dig at me, but I wasn’t yet sure why. “Discretion has always been valuable,” I said. “People simply mistake it for virtue.”

“And you mistake deflection for an answer.” She had no problem calling me out on my shit and that was one of the things that had drawn me to her when we were together.

“I wasn’t aware I owed you one.” I didn’t answer her so her pushing this was fascinating to me on a certain level.

“You don’t. But I thought you might appreciate knowing that people are wondering who she is and what this means for… some of your business activities.”

“Who and what did you hear?” It was worth a shot asking her even though I suspected she might not tell me due to her own business dealings.

“I don’t have names, but I know it’s connected to this private channel that I’ve been hearing more and more whispers about.”

Son. Of. A. Bitch. I bet this was what Declan’s text was about.

“What private channel?” I asked.

“Don’t insult me by pretending you don’t know what I mean. Vincent mentioned it before you redecorated my room with him.”

I paused for a moment before my brain finally caught up to what was going on. “I don’t know much about said channel, but it sounds like you might be more in the know than I am.” The last thing I wanted to do was piss Delphine off for various reasons but definitely before I got the information I needed from her.

“Careful,” she said. “That almost sounded like you asking for help.”

“I asked what you knew.”

“No, Cain. You implied that I knew more than you.”

“You’re assuming a whole lot there.”

She continued as if I hadn’t said a word. “And because I know you, I’m going to answer the question you’re circling instead of the one you asked. I don’t know who is running the channel. I know who is using it. I know it’s old enough that people trust it enough to move things, including telling certain people when to step left before the bullet comes from the right.”

“That is a very elegant way of saying people are being warned,” I said.

“It’s a very elegant way of saying people are being positioned,” Delphine corrected. “Warnings are for people you intend to save. Positioning is for people you intend to use. And I believe people are intending to use your woman to get to you. You’ve pissed a lot of people off over the years, Cain.”

Her comments landed cleanly because Delphine knew how to place a blade. And she was right. In order to get to where I was in the business world, you had to step over a lot of people. It would be surprising if no one had a vendetta against me. I had collected enemies the way other men collected art: deliberately and with an understanding that some pieces appreciated in value after they were bought.