I was on my feet before the guard stepped inside.
He said nothing as he unlocked the chain at my ankles. The suppressors remained. Of course they did.
I didn’t ask where we were going.
The corridor was narrow and damp, torches guttering low in their brackets. Water ran in thin lines along the stone. My footsteps echoed too loudly.
If they were taking me to watch, I would not give them the satisfaction.
We stopped at the last door on the left. The guard opened it.
I expected blood.
I did not expect Georgina Quinn.
She sat at a small table in the centre of the room; gloved hands folded neatly in front of her.
“Kieran Hawthorne,” she said pleasantly. “Good afternoon. Please, take a seat.”
I lowered myself slowly, keeping my eyes on her.
“It’s been a long time,” she said.
“It has,” I replied.
She watched me, unblinking. “I often wondered which parts of your father would surface first.”
I watched her, impassive. “What do you want Georgina?”
She smiled. “Skip the pleasantries then.”
“I think that would be best.”
She leaned back slightly. “I understand you’ve come into contact with my daughter.”
“Which one?” I asked casually.
Her jaw tightened. Just barely.
“You’ve heard about what happened to Sable.”
“Oh, you mean how the Council ordered her shot when she tried to help Seph?”
A flicker. Small. Controlled. But there.
“Sable would never have moved against us willingly.”
I laughed — once.
“You really don’t know what your daughters are capable of. And that’s the problem.”
Her eyes cooled.
“I’ll tell you what I know,” she said softly. “Sable was the brightest spark my family has ever produced. She had a future. Before you wormed your way into her head.”
“I don’t control Sable.”
“Please.” Her lip curled. “I know all about your little relationship. And the one you attempted to cultivate with my then underaged daughter.”
