The air in Marcus's cramped office felt suddenly heavier, like the dust and paper were holding their breath with us. They followed you," he'd said, and the words stuck in my ears, echoing.
My gaze flicked to the window again. The black car idled across the street, exhaust curling lazily into the winter air. The man in the passenger seat tilted his head slightly, as if acknowledging he'd seen me looking.
I stepped back from the glass. "You're sure they're here for me?"
Marcus didn't answer right away. He moved to his desk drawer, rummaging until he found a small pair of binoculars. A quick glance out the window was enough to make his mouth flatten into a line.
"They're not from Sebastian," he said. Something cold slid down my spine. "Then who?
Marcus turned sharply. "Doesn't matter right now. You need to decide if you're walking out of here or staying put until I can get you out the back."
I looked down at the envelope he still hadn't opened. "This is about that, isn't it? Whatever's in there."
He tapped the paper lightly, almost with reverence. "This? It's part of it. But you're the bigger problem.My pulse quickened. Me?
"Sebastian doesn't put people in play unless they're useful. Which means you've either got something they want, or you're going to get it for them.
The implication landed like a stone in my stomach. "And these people outside…?"
They don't wait for permission. He crossed to a tall cabinet in the corner and pulled out a battered leather satchel. "If we're going, we go now. Back alley, three turns, blend into the foot traffic by the market. You'll be safer there. Safer. Not safe.
I hesitated, looking between him and the door. The normal part of my brain the one that used to clock in, answer emails, and measure life in neatly color-coded spreadsheets screamed to leave, to put distance between myself and the envelope, between myself and Sebastian Steele.
But the other part, the one that had woken up the second I'd stepped into his office yesterday, burned with questions. What's in it, Marcus?" I asked quietly.
He studied me for a long moment, then shook his head. "If you knew, you'd never hand it over."Then maybe I shouldn't.That made him stop mid-step. "You're playing a dangerous game. "Maybe I'm already in one."
The sound of a car door slamming outside broke the silence. My head snapped toward the window. One of the men was crossing the street, his movements deliberate. The other stayed in the driver's seat, eyes tracking him like a hawk.
Marcus moved quickly now. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the back door. The hallway beyond was narrow, lined with dusty crates and boxes that smelled faintly of mildew. You still have the address card?" he asked over his shoulder. Yes.
Good. Keep it close. If something happens to me, don't," I said sharply. "Don't finish that sentence. We reached the back exit, and Marcus cracked it open just enough to scan the alley. Empty. Go," he said.
I stepped out into the cold air, the satchel heavy in my hands. The brick walls loomed on either side, graffiti curling in faded colors. My boots echoed on the pavement as we moved quickly toward the end of the alley.
We'd almost reached the street when a figure stepped into our path. Not one of the men from the car. Sebastian Steele.
He looked different in daylight, still impeccably dressed, but the glow from the office lighting was gone, replaced by a harsher edge under the overcast sky. His eyes flicked from me to Marcus, then to the satchel in my grip."I told you to deliver it," he said evenly. "I was," I said, my voice catching only slightly.
His gaze sharpened. "And now you're running.Marcus stepped forward. "She's being followed. Your friends in the car out front. They're not mine," Sebastian cut in.
That answer did nothing to steady my nerves. Sebastian's attention settled on me again. "Give me the envelope.I tightened my grip. "No.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. The air between us stretched taut. Then Sebastian stepped closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear.
"If you want to walk out of this with answers, Alexis, you give me the envelope now and you trust me."And if I don't?"
His eyes darkened. "Then you trust Marcus. And hope he's willing to keep you alive.
I glanced between them. Marcus's jaw was tight, but he gave a small nod, as if telling me the choice was mine. In that moment, the footsteps of the man from the street reached my ears, growing louder. I had seconds. And whichever way I chose, there'd be no turning back.