Page 96 of Wilde and Deadly

He sat sprawled in the armchair, one ankle resting on his knee, flipping a coin between his fingers like he hadn’t a care in the world. But his lazy grin was deceptive. Jean-Sabin Cavalier never missed a thing, and as a former thief, he knew the fire escape was her only option.

Which was why he’d positioned himself at just the right angle to see the window.

Not directly, not obviously—but enough that if she so much as touched the latch, he’d clock it.

Rowan narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he was actually watching her or just playing some elaborate game of psychological warfare.

Sabin caught her look and smirked. “Problem, princess?”

Damn him.

“No.”

“Uh-huh,” he drawled. “You’re fidgeting. I suspect that means you fixin’ to do something reckless.”

Rowan stopped pacing long enough to glare at him. “I don’t fidget.”

Liam arched a brow.

Shit. She was definitely fidgeting.

Damn them both.

She exhaled sharply. “You don’t have to hover. I’m not going to vanish into thin air. I’m not a magician.”

Sabin grinned like he’d already won the argument. “Mm. Now, cher, that’s exactly what a magician would say.”

Liam snorted.

Rowan rolled her eyes and turned toward the window, but before she could start pacing again, Daphne closed her laptop and pushed up from the table. “I gotta go back to my lab.”

Rowan turned to her. She’s almost forgotten the other woman was there. “Why does she get to leave?”

“Maybe because she wasn’t stabbed a few days ago,” Sabin suggested.

Daphne pushed her glasses up her nose. “And unlike the rest of you people, I have actual work to do.”

Liam unfolded his arms. “I’ll drive you.”

Rowan whirled toward him, seizing on the opportunity to get out of his apartment. “I’ll go with?—”

“No.” Liam shot her a look. “Not a debate.” Then he softened the blow with a faint smile. “You gotta be hungry. I’ll grab some food on the way back.”

Sabin stretched, still looking thoroughly unbothered. “Mais, yeah, I’m hungry. Get me fries.”

Liam didn’t dignify that with a response.

Daphne, already halfway to the door, smirked over her shoulder. “He means extra fries.”

Sabin grinned.

Rowan crossed her arms. “And what about you?” she asked Sabin. “Shouldn’t you be Liam’s backup?”

Sabin gave her an exaggerated yawn. “Nah. You’re my priority. Plus, it takes a very special kind of idiot to go after Liam. He’ll be fine.”

Rowan’s unease didn’t just settle—it sank, deep and heavy, like a storm rolling in.

The longer she stood there, the worse it got, tightening low in her ribs like a warning she couldn’t shake. She turned back to the window, scanning the street below. “I don’t like this.”

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