Page 62 of Inevitable Endings
Sawyer opens the passenger door for her, his expression turning serious for a brief second. “You sure about this?”
She slides into the seat, adjusting the hem of her blazer. “No. But we’re doing it anyway.”
I watch them from the doorway, arms crossed tightly over my chest. A part of me still wants to call this off, to find another way. But it’s too late for second-guessing now.
I meet Ada’s eyes through the window. “Be careful.”
She nods. “Always.”
Sawyer steps into the driver’s seat, starts the engine, and without another word, they pull away from the curb.
I don’t realize I’m gripping my glass too tightly until I hear a knock at the door. My pulse jumps. I set the glass down and move quickly, unlocking it without hesitation.
Ada steps in first, her face unreadable, eyes sharper than usual. Sawyer follows, his jaw tight, shoulders tense. Neither of them speaks right away, and that silence is enough to tell me everything I need to know.
I close the door behind them. “Well?”
Ada exhales and unfastens her updo, dragging a hand through her hair before she speaks. “The building alone told us everything. It’s power wrapped in glass and steel, a fortress pretending to be an office. Mirrored windows and a receptionist who looked like she could kill someone with a stapler.” She shakes her head slightly. “But it wasn’t the place that got me. It was him.”
Sawyer lets out a low breath. “Tsepov is… something else. I have seen a lot of soldiers in my life, and he sure has a character like one.”
I motion for them to sit, but neither of them does. Ada crosses her arms, her weight shifting slightly like she’s still trying to shake something off.
“He didn’t talk to us,” she says. “He dismissed us.”
A chill moves down my spine. “Dismissed?”
Ada nods, her lips pressing together before she continues. “We got through the lobby easily enough, but the second the elevator doors opened, we weren’t alone. Two men. Armed, but subtle about it. They walked us straight into his office, if you can even call it that. It was more like a private club hidden behind corporate walls. Dim lighting, expensive whiskey on the bar cart, a fireplace even though it’s February and the building has central heating. And him.”
I swallow. “Describe him.”
Ada meets my gaze. “Tall. Built like someone who doesn’t need security but keeps it anyway. Russian, obviously, but not as polished as the rest. He’s got a military edge to him, like he was trained to kill before he learned to make money. Smokesconstantly, cigarettes laced with something stronger, because the whole room smelled like spice and ash. And his eyes…” She hesitates for a fraction of a second. “Dark. Calculating. Like he already knows the end of a conversation before you’ve even started it.”
My stomach twists. “Then what happened?”
Ada hesitates, then looks up at me. “He asked for you.”
I blink. “What?”
“Not by name,” Sawyer clarifies. His voice is quiet but edged with something I can’t place. “But he asked for the nurse with the red hair.”
I feel the blood drain from my face.
Ada doesn’t blink as she says it. “He invited you.”
I hear the words, but they feel distant, like I’m watching them happen to someone else.He invited you.Like it’s a dinner party, like it’s an honor. Like it isn’t laced with a thousand threats left unsaid.
Sawyer exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Not demanded. Not threatened. Invited.” His voice is edged with something I can’t quite name. Frustration? Worry? Disgust? Maybe all three.
I force my mouth to work. “For what?”
Ada shrugs, but there’s tension in her shoulders. “That’s the part we don’t know. But he was clear; he won’t talk to us. He’ll talk to you.”
I nervously twirl a strand of hair through my fingers, bringing it to my nose, an old habit. “So if I don’t go, we get nothing.”
Silence.
We all know the answer.
