The estate line rang later while the three of them were circling new routes on the map. Cesare didn’t bother with a greeting.
“I’m calling to congratulate you,” he said. “You found where I keep my umbrella. Enjoy the shade while it lasts.”
“You should worry less about shade and more about rain,” Emilia said.
“At some point you’ll run out of charm,” he replied. “I don’t know whether to hope that’s soon or late.”
“Open the docks fully,” she said. “Pay the vendors. Let the inspections go. Publish the real audit. Your Atlas stays shut. That’s the deal.”
“You think you can dictate terms because you made a priest say a new word,” he said, not quite laughing. “I dictate. You pose.”
Rafael cut in, voice steady. “You’re out of time.”
A pause. The kind that admits the hit even as it looks for
