Chapter 3 - Safehouse on the Lake
The city blurred past the tinted windows of an armored black SUV running silent without headlights. Blood dripped from a graze along Lorenzo’s temple, soaking into the collar of his ruined shirt, but he never blinked.
They arrived at a secluded estate tucked along the jagged shoreline of Lake Michigan. High iron gates locked behind them, manned by armed guards who looked at Evelyn as if she were a corpse that hadn't realized it was dead yet.
Inside the vaulted study, Lorenzo threw his coat aside and turned to Evelyn.
“You knew the time. You knew the exit,” he said, stepping into her personal space until she could smell the smoke and sandalwood lingering on him. “The waitstaff doesn’t intercept encrypted cartel comms. Who do you work for, Evelyn?”
“I work for eight dollars an hour and tips,” Evelyn snapped, shock finally giving way to raw anger. “I saw the reflection on her phone screen. I saw her signal. If I wanted you dead, I would have stayed behind the bar and let them tear you apart.”
May you like
Lorenzo stared at her for five agonizing seconds. Then, a ghost of an amused, dangerous smirk touched his lips. “Fair point.”
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