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“If it’s from me, she won’t accept it.”
“The money’s already been paid. The money doesn’t go to her.”
“She would find a way around it.”
“Look at the date of the receipt,” I murmur.
I paid for this before this meeting was arranged.
“How did… If you can do all of this…”
“Why do I need your help in the first place? Extra eyes. More intel. Information is power, just like you said.”
Her face pales. “If I walk away…”
“I won’t rescind the payment.”
“I don’t want to be bought, and my… she…”
“No harm will ever come to her because of me.”
“I know you have a brother. I tried to find out about the two of you, but there isn’t much.”
“I haven’t been much of anyone before,” I explain.
“You want to become someone now.”
I hold out my hands.
Silhouette trembles. “When you reached out, I didn’t know if I should bother. You were an underling. A yes-man who wasn’t trusted with much as far as I could tell.”
“That’s accurate.”
“Is it?” she challenges.
“I’m humble.”
“Your beginning might be humble, but that doesn’t mean your ambition is,” she challenges.
“And that is why I wish to work with you,” I say smoothly.
Her gaze shifts to Alex and back to me. “I see,” she murmurs.
“Some relationships are complicated. Some grow stale. Blood isn’t always enough, and ties can be severed. You have your reasons for many things, and I have mine. Those who are loyal to me will be rewarded. I won’t ever forget where I came from, and I will help any who helps me even if they don’t ask for it.”
She’s silent, the wheels in her head clearly churning.
I lean forward. “Victor Kovalenko, Nadia Volkov, and Leo Mikhailov… tell me who they helped other than themselves? They could’ve been called serpents instead of shadows because of all of the backstabbing. It’s why no one’s bothered to help them now that they’ve fallen. It won’t be like that with me.”
“You don’t want to reforge the Shadow Syndicate,” she says slowly.
“No. I plan to rise, yes, but it won’t be the same old thing anymore.”
“Something new.”
“Yes.” I take my phone back and place my elbow on the table, spreading out my fingers.
Xavier Davis materializes as if a shadow, a silent sentinel. While he does not approach our table, even from afar, he serves as a reminder of the unspoken consequences that could follow any breach of trust.
