Page 123 of Outcast’s Vow

“Did Leopold set this up?” I ask quietly. “We’re in his family hotel. His dirty paws are all over this. It stinks of him.”

Cromwell nods. Even now, he doesn’t lie to me. There’s no need to.

“You know the answer, Baptiste.”

The motherfucker. Leopold has done this knowing full well I won’t step into that room. To walk away would mean I’ll lose everything I’ve ever worked for, and Leopold knew that. My company would be ruined. Everything I’ve built.

I’ve spent my life ever since I won that chess game in Washington Square Park dreaming of the Castaways. If only I did everything right. If I played by their rules. If I didn’t fail their games.

And this? This is their game.

It is a choice. Between the two things I care about.

I feel sick.

But I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Sylvie.

“I’m going to politely say no,” I say to Cromwell, my voice low.

He shakes his head.

“Baptiste. Don’t do this. Just walk in there and accept the gift. No one will have to know, not even your wife. If you don’t, then Leopold will destroy you.”

My hand is trembling. I hide it in my pocket.

“I know.”

“He views you as a threat,” Cromwell says. “He tried to ruin you with the federal contract, but that blew up in his face. This is what he’s prepared to do. Don’t let him win, Baptiste. I need you inside the Order.”

Cromwell is right. Actions have consequences. That’s what I said to Brandon on the ski slopes.

But Sylvie?

“It’s not even a choice for me,” I say. “I refuse. If that means I can’t be in the Castaways anymore, then so be it.”

“You would choose your wife over the Castaways?” Cromwell asks. A flicker of something... admiration... echoes in his voice.

There’s not even a heartbeat in between the end of his words and my reply.

“My wife is the most important thing in my life.”

Cromwell’s eyes dart toward the inside of the elevator and then back to me.

“Her future will be over if you bring her into this failure, Baptiste.”

“Then I won’t bring her in,” I reply. “I’ll keep her hands clean. This is my decision, not hers. I want you to remember that.”

“Baptiste…”

“Please don’t punish Sylvie for what I’ve done.”

And then I walk into the elevator. As simple as that.

I press the button for the lobby. The doors close.

Cromwell is right as well on that final word. My wife will be dragged into this decision.

Leopold’s won.