And I didn’t realize until Louis—how much it mattered that someone took the time to do exactly that.
“Never.” He winked over his shoulder. “Maybe they’ll let me have some extra credit, though, you think?”
“Fingers crossed.” I forced a smile even though I felt like I was going to puke.
Why was he doing this for me other than having something he wanted from them too. We were in this equally.
I wasn’t sending him to his death.
So why did those fourteen steps he took feel like they would be his last?
“Not him.” I didn’t know where the words came from or why they felt like they were being pried by some unseen force from my throat, but I was suddenly desperate to beg the universe.
I never begged.
But not Louis.
Keep him safe.
Please.
My life probably depended on his success as much as his did—we were, after all, married and the Vescovis didn’t like outsiders. If he messed up, the only thing standing between my own death would be my family stepping up to protect me, but you can only stand behind the shield of the five families for so long, and one had to wonder, at what point did they finally turn their backs on you?
Would there be a time when my dad didn’t pick up the call?
When I’d taken things too far?
Was I already past that point the minute I hooked up with Cassian? Was he heartless enough to destroy me with one flash drive?
Probably.
But he knew what he was doing, and all of this came back to Louis.
He was the key here, not me. I wasn’t that stupid. Cassian needed it to be Louis, not me who infiltrated, he needed him—it was the only thing that made me think he would walk out of there alive.
That those fourteen steps wouldn’t be his last.
Was it a bad omen that I’d even counted them?
I ignored the feel of my stomach.
The restaurant’s overhead lights flickered.
Louis made it to the door before hesitating. He pulled his long black peacoat tighter across his body and glanced over his shoulder at me one more time.
Of course it had started to rain.
Not a gentle drizzle—real rain. Heavy. Sudden. The kind that turned the world into smeared watercolor and blurred the line between us until he was more shadow than man. Lake Michigan loomed behind the building, black and restless, waves slapping against the shore like they were impatient for something to surface.
How had we gone from complete strangers—each with our own agenda—to this?
This strange, fragile moment that felt like a goodbye dressed up as something temporary.
I nodded once. I wasn’t even sure he could see it through the rain and the steam rising off the pavement, but he nodded back like he had. Then he smiled. Not charming. Not flippant.
Pretty. Soft. Dangerous.
And he turned and walked into the restaurant.