Chapter 4 – "Smoke and Mirrors"
It was the knock on the door that finally broke his spiral.
Xander didn't move. His arms were folded on the desk, one hand tangled in the dark strands of his hair, the other clenched around a pen he hadn't used in the last hour. His coffee was cold. His eyes burned. The office was dim, lit only by the dying glow of a desk lamp and the distant wash of city lights through the floor-length windows behind him.
Another knock.
He sighed quietly, slow and rough, but didn't look up.
"Xander," came Cassian's voice through the door. "You've been in there for three days."
"It's only been two," Xander muttered.
Cassian opened the door anyway. The soft click of it made Xander wince.
Cassian stepped inside, holding a tablet and a familiar frown that meant he wasn't going to drop the subject. "You haven't slept, eaten, or even looked at the schedule I sent yesterday."
"That's because the schedule is irrelevant," Xander replied, voice flat. "Nothing matters until we find a lead."
"You're chasing ghosts."
"Then I'll find where they're buried."
Cassian exhaled slowly. "You're burning out. And like it or not, there's someone here to see you."
Xander's head finally lifted, his face drawn with exhaustion. His eyes were sharp despite it. "We both know he's going to walk in anyway."
Cassian didn't even bother to respond. As if on cue, the door creaked wider.
"Wow. You look like hell, mate."
Adrian strolled in like he owned the place, all smug ease and polished charm. Dressed in a slate gray suit with no tie and the top button undone, he looked like a man who'd slept well, eaten well, and had zero real problems.
Xander didn't smile. "Do you ever knock?"
"I do. Cassian just ignores me."
Cassian, who had now moved to the side of the room and was tapping through his tablet, didn't even bother to look up. "That's because your knocking sounds like someone trying to flirt with the door."
Adrian snorted. "Well, it has better manners than some people I know."
Xander ran a hand over his face and leaned back in his chair, his voice gravel-thick. "What do you want, Adrian?"
"To save you from yourself."
Xander didn't answer, and that silence said enough.
Adrian gave him a once-over. "You look like you've gone twelve rounds with a meat grinder."
"I'm busy."
"No, you're drowning. And the worst part is you're pretending you're not."
Cassian gave Adrian a warning glance, but Adrian was already moving around the room, picking up an empty coffee mug, tossing a file back onto the desk like he was bored.
"You've locked yourself in here for what, seventy hours? And for what? Leads that keep vanishing? Names that mean nothing?"
Xander's jaw flexed. "It's not nothing."
"Maybe not," Adrian admitted. "But you're getting nowhere fast. You need to breathe."
"I don't have time to—"
"Yes, you do. Because if you break yourself now, you'll never see this through."
Cassian looked between the two of them, his expression unreadable.
Xander rubbed his temples. The weight of it all sat heavy on his shoulders—the investigation, the silence from his inner circle, the growing stench of betrayal somewhere within the estate. He didn't trust anyone. Not fully. And that included Adrian, even if he was the closest thing he had to a friend.
Still, something in Adrian's tone—too casual, too insistent—needled at him. But he was too tired to dissect it.
"What exactly are you suggesting?" Xander asked finally.
Adrian grinned. "A drink. A distraction. There's a new club opening downtown tonight. Exclusive. Private. Exactly your type."
"Not interested."
"Then let me rephrase: You're going."
Xander gave him a look.
Adrian raised a brow. "Come on, man. Just for an hour. You'll be surrounded by people you don't have to talk to, music loud enough to drown out your thoughts, and drinks strong enough to make you forget how miserable you are."
Cassian cleared his throat. "You've got an entire day blocked off tomorrow. I could shift a few things around if—"
"Don't encourage him," Xander muttered.
But the fatigue in his bones was winning. And he knew Cassian had a point—he couldn't keep going like this. His focus was fraying, and frustration was beginning to override judgment.
He stared down at the scattered papers on his desk—redacted reports, camera logs, hollow leads.
Nothing.
"Fine," he said, standing slowly. "One drink."
Adrian smirked. "I'll take it."
Xander turned to Cassian. "Keep things running while I'm out. And if anything breaks on the investigation—"
"I'll call you immediately."
Xander nodded once. Then, without another word, he followed Adrian out of the office, his shoulders straight despite the storm brooding just beneath his skin.
He wasn't going out to relax.
He was going out to reset.
But neither of them realized just how closely they were being watched.