Everything stops.
Across the street, beneath the rain and neon, Kauss’s eyes lock on mine. His expression changes so fast it hurts. The coldness cracks. Pain flashes through. Relief. Fear. Something like guilt.
He moves toward me immediately.
Arturo says something behind him. Kauss ignores it.
I stand frozen under the awning of a closed boutique while he crosses the street through rain and passing headlights, expensive suit darkening under the storm.
“Evie,” he says.
His voice does it. That low, rough, familiar sound breaks through my shock, and all the fear of the last twelve hours turns instantly into fury.
“You’re alive.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Wonderful. Fantastic development.”
He stops an arm’s length away. “I should have called.”
“You think?”
“Yes.”
I look past him at Lenrog’s people. “Nice suit.”
His face shutters. “It is not what it looks like.”
“That is the universal slogan of men doing exactly what it looks like.”
“No.” He steps closer. “Listen to me. Lenrog is dead.”
For one second, I cannot process the sentence.
“What?”
“Savio Lenrog was assassinated this morning. Most of his senior leadership was killed with him. Ron arranged it.”
The rain seems to get louder.
I look back at the restaurant. The windows still glow gold, but now I notice the tension around it. Extra vehicles. Guards with visible weapons. A shuttered side entrance. People moving fast inside.
“Lenrog is dead,” I repeat.
“Yes.”
“And you are wearing his suit.”
“It is not his suit.”
“That is what you want to clarify?”
His frustration flashes. “Evie, the syndicate is collapsing. Ron used the flood as diversion and struck Lenrog’s organization while everyone watched the tunnels. Arturo found me before I reached the restaurant. There were bodies inside.”
The word bodies should move me.
It does. Somewhere.
