Chapter 541: Chapter 541
The elevator door slid open with a soft chi, pulled by one of the staff, and revealed the restaurant in a quiet, almost eerie calm. It wasn’t completely empty, but close enough that every movent, every clink of glass or low murmur of conversation carried further than it should have. Soft music drifted through the space, sothing old, maybe from the fifties or sixties, the kind of song that tried to make everything feel relaxed and tiless.
Table eighteen sat near the window, untouched. No Carrie. No Jack. Good. I was early.
"Mr. Marlowe?" a waiter approached, posture straight, voice polite but asured. "This way, sir. Your table is ready."
"Thanks."
I followed him, my steps steady but my mind anything but. The chair gave a faint creak as I sat down. I leaned back slightly, scanning the place out of habit more than anything else.
It was nine past ten. Rain had started on the way here, light enough to ignore but persistent enough to coat the streets in a thin reflective sheen. Through the window beside , the city lights blurred softly against the glass, each drop stretching them into streaks of color.
I exhaled slowly and rested my arm on the table, fingers tapping once before going still.
Jack Kuinn.
The na alone made my jaw tighten. The guy who thought blackmail was a ga. The guy who thought he could corner Nala, push her into sothing she didn’t want. I wasn’t letting that happen. Not now. Not ever.
"Damn cunt..." I muttered under my breath.
"Sir?" A waitress approached, her tone careful. "Would you like to order anything while you wait?"
"Water," I answered without looking at the nu. "Just water."
"Right away, sir."
She walked off, heels clicking softly against the polished floor. I leaned forward slightly, resting my elbows on the table now, eyes drifting back to the window.
The rain traced lazy paths downward. Outside, a couple hurried past under a shared umbrella, their figures blurring together under the streetlight. For a mont, I found myself staring too long, mind drifting where it shouldn’t.
Silk.
Her face flashed in my head again, pale, those red eyes, the way she looked at
like I was supposed to know her. Like I had forgotten sothing important.
I clenched my jaw and forced the thought away.
Not now.
The waitress returned with a glass of water, setting it down gently in front of . "Here you go, sir."
"Thanks."
I took a sip, the cold grounding
a little. When I lowered the glass, I noticed it.
Eyes.
A couple of people, scattered across the restaurant, were looking at . Not openly staring, but enough to notice. One guy near the bar. A woman seated alone near the far wall. Even a pair at a corner table. Subtle glances, quickly averted when I t them.
Recognition.
Right... I’d been here before. With Carrie.
"Getting famous, eh?"
I straightened slightly in my chair, rolling my shoulders back, trying to look like I belonged here more than anyone else. If they were watching, let them watch.
I checked the ti on my phone.
Nine fifteen.
Still early.
My fingers drumd once against the glass before stopping again.
Jack Kuinn...
How the hell did he pull it off? A cara in Nala’s office, placed so perfectly it caught everything. That wasn’t luck. That was planning. Precision. Either he had help, or he was way more capable than he looked on paper.
And I needed to know which one.
Because if I was going to deal with him properly, I couldn’t just walk in blind.
The elevator at the far end of the restaurant gave a soft ding. My head lifted instinctively.
Doors sliding open. Two figures stepped out.
First, Carrie.
My chest tightened before I could stop it.
She looked... composed. Too composed, honestly. Like she had wrapped herself back into that calm, controlled persona she always carried, the one that made it hard to read what she was actually thinking. Her posture was straight, chin slightly lifted, heels clicking softly but confidently against the floor as she stepped into the restaurant. Her hair was neat, her outfit sharp, like nothing in the world could shake her.
But I knew better than that.
Then the second figure stepped out behind her.
Jack Kuinn.
I narrowed my eyes slightly as I took him in.
He wasn’t what most people would expect. He had a slender fra, almost delicate, with sharp features that leaned more toward pretty than traditionally masculine. His hair was styled with care, falling just enough to fra his face in a way that looked effortless but clearly wasn’t. His clothes were fitted, clean, and intentionally chosen, leaning into that softer aesthetic without overdoing it. There was sothing androgynous about him, sothing that blurred the line just enough to make people look twice.
A femboy, sure, but not the harmless kind people joked about.
There was confidence in the way he moved, quiet and controlled. He didn’t need to act big to feel dangerous.
His gaze swept across the room once, quick and calculating, taking everything in before settling on .
Then he smiled.
It wasn’t wide, and it definitely wasn’t friendly. It was just enough to show that he already knew who I was and that he had been expecting this mont.
Carrie followed his line of sight, and for a brief second, our eyes t.
There was sothing there, a small flicker beneath her composed expression, sothing she didn’t show anyone else in the room. It was gone almost imdiately, replaced by that sa calm, unreadable look.
They started walking toward
without hesitation, their steps steady and in sync, like this eting had already been decided long before I even sat down.
I exhaled slowly, my fingers curling lightly around the glass before I let go. I straightened in my chair, squared my shoulders, and kept my eyes locked forward.
"Alright," I muttered under my breath, keeping my voice low and steady.
Here goes nothing.
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