ISABEL
The text comes from Ares on Friday afternoon.
Can you meet us tonight? 8 PM. The address below. Just to talk.
Us.
Not "me." Us.
My stomach drops.
I know what this is. What it has to be.
They know about each other. They've compared notes and now they're done waiting.
I stare at my phone for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.
I could say no, claim I'm busy and put this off a little longer but that would just delay the inevitable and at then at the end of the day, I won't have any choice but to still meet them.
The decision is now or never.
*I'll be there.*
The address he sends is a private lounge in Midtown. An upscale, quiet, the kind of place where serious conversations happen over expensive drinks.
The kind of place where ultimatums are delivered.
I s
