“Sorry?” I asked.
His eyes dropped to Cole, taking him in without curiosity, just acknowledgment, before returning to me. “Follow me.” He turned and walked toward the exit without another word.
I didn’t move.
I watched him leave, every instinct in me screaming not to follow. He reached the door, paused, and glanced over his shoulder. When he saw we were still seated, his expression shifted, like he wasn’t used to being ignored.
He came back, this time with less patience in his stride. The calm was still there, but it had hardened, stripped of whatever courtesy he had given me before.
“You’re supposed to follow me.” His voice dropped, colder now, the edge no longer hidden.
Beside me, Cole shifted. “Inna… who is he?”
“No one. Don’t worry,” I said to Cole, keeping my voice calm even as my pulse refused to cooperate. I lifted my gaze back to the man standing over us. “You said we were supposed to meet here.”
A faint line formed between his brows. “The boss is waiting outside.”
The boss?
Wasn’t he the one?
My eyes lingered on him a moment longer, taking him in properly. If he was just the messenger, the man he answered to had to be something else entirely. This one already radiated trouble shaped into a human being. A man who could track you down without you noticing, stand outside your window, and tell you to shut it like it was a favor. And you would, without thinking.
And now there was someone above him.
Great. Just great.
“Did he lose his legs?” The question came out carelessly in a way that had no business matching the situation.
He was surprised. “I’m sorry?”
“I mean,” I said, lifting my phone off the table and tilting it toward him, “can’t he walk in here himself? The message clearly says we should meet here at seven.” I held his gaze, letting the words hang. “He is actually ten minutes late.”
Silence settled for a moment.
“Let me get this straight.” He pulled out the chair across from us and sat. “So you’re not coming with me.”
If they told me to kneel, I would kneel without a second thought. If they told me to jump, I’d probably ask how high on my way up. I had stolen the money, and I knew exactly what that meant. Guilt with evidence wasn’t something you argued away. It was something you survived if luck was on your side.
But stepping outside into the dark, where no one would see or hear, that was my line. I could already picture them dragging us to the ocean to kill us, with Cole’s terrified voice calling me for help. So no. Not outside.
He studied me a moment longer, then exhaled and pushed back his chair. “Very well.” He straightened his suit. “I’ll let him know.”
“Thank you.”
I watched him go, aware I might regret my choice in thenext five minutes. But if anything happened here, there were witnesses and a room that would remember.
The door closed behind him, and the space he left felt heavier, as if the walls themselves were waiting too.
“Are you sure we’re meeting the person who will help us find Dad?” Cole asked, his brows knitting together.
I had lied to him.
“No,” I said, correcting him. “I told you we’re meeting a man whomighthelp us find Dad.”
“That’s what I asked.” He shrugged. The room shifted before I could open my mouth and say anything that would make this feel less heavy.
It started small. A waiter froze mid-step, a tray poised too long in his hands. Conversations thinned into whispers. The servers by the counter stopped pretending to work, their eyes fixed on the entrance. Even the couple who had arrived earlier fell silent, as if someone had turned the volume down on the world.
