CHAPTER 5
894 Words
Eva did not rush downstairs.
She washed her hands first, slowly, carefully, as though she were preparing for a formal meeting rather than a confrontation. She changed her blouse, choosing one without wrinkles, one she knew sat perfectly on her shoulders. Appearances mattered. People revealed themselves more easily when they believed they were being seen clearly.
By the time she entered the sitting room, the man had already stood.
He was taller than she remembered. Or perhaps she had simply never measured him properly before. His hair was touched with grey now, his suit expensive but understated. He smiled when he saw her—too easily.
“Eva,” he said warmly. “It’s been a long time.”
“Not long enough for familiarity,” she replied, taking the chair opposite him.
His smile flickered, then recovered. Interesting.
“My name is Marcus Hale,” he said, though she had not asked. “I worked with your husband.”
“I know who you are,” Eva said calmly. “You handled acquisitions for three years. Left abruptly. No farewell.”
Marcus chuckled. “You always were observant.”
She watched his hands as he sat—relaxed, open, palms visible. A performance. Men who had nothing to hide did not rehearse openness.
“I came because I was… concerned,” he continued. “About you.”
“Concern is generous,” Eva replied. “Most people are avoiding me.”
Marcus leaned forward slightly. “That’s because most people don’t know what’s really happening.”
Eva tilted her head. “Then enlighten me.”
He hesitated, just for a fraction of a second.
“I imagine you’ve been told this was random,” he said carefully.
“Yes.”
“And you don’t believe that.”
“No.”
Marcus nodded slowly. “Good.”
Eva’s gaze sharpened. “Say what you came to say.”
He sighed, glancing briefly toward the door as though checking for listeners. “Your husband was under pressure.”
“Everyone is,” Eva said.
“This was different.”
“How?”
Marcus folded his hands. “He was preparing for something. A move. One that would’ve upset very powerful people.”
Eva’s pulse remained steady. “What kind of move?”
Marcus smiled again—but this time it didn’t reach his eyes. “The kind that gets men killed.”
Eva leaned back, unbothered. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“I can’t,” he said quickly. “Not yet.”
“Then you’ve wasted both our time,” Eva replied, rising from her seat.
“Wait,” Marcus said sharply.
She paused.
“They won’t stop,” he added, lowering his voice. “What happened to your husband and son wasn’t an ending. It was a warning.”
Eva turned slowly to face him. “To whom?”
“To you.”
Silence stretched between them.
“You think I don’t know that?” Eva asked quietly.
Marcus studied her now, reassessing. “You’re handling this… well.”
“I’ve had practice,” she replied. “Men have been underestimating me my entire life.”
He smiled faintly. “Then you understand why I’m here.”
“You’re here because you’re afraid,” Eva said. “The question is—of whom?”
Marcus exhaled. “Your husband trusted the wrong people.”
“Did he trust you?” Eva asked.
Another hesitation.
“Not in the end,” Marcus admitted. “Which is why I’m still alive.”
Eva nodded. “And why you came to see if I am.”
His expression tightened.
“You shouldn’t dig too deeply,” he said. “There are layers to this. You pull the wrong one, and things collapse.”
“On whom?” Eva asked.
Marcus stood. “On everyone.”
She moved closer now, her voice calm, measured. “Let me be very clear. My husband and son are dead. There is nothing left for me to protect except the truth. If you came here to scare me into silence, you’ve miscalculated.”
Marcus met her gaze. For the first time, uncertainty crept in.
“I didn’t come to scare you,” he said. “I came to see whether you were dangerous.”
“And?” Eva asked.
He smiled thinly. “I’m still deciding.”
Eva stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. “Then we’re done here.”
Marcus hesitated, then reached into his coat and placed a small card on the table.
“No names,” he said. “Just a number. When you realize you need answers faster than the police can give them, call it.”
Eva did not look at the card.
“Tell me one thing before you go,” she said.
Marcus paused.
“Why my son?”
The question hung heavy between them.
Marcus did not answer immediately.
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “But if I were you… I’d stop assuming he was collateral.”
Then he left.
Eva remained standing long after the door closed.
Slowly, she picked up the card.
For the first time since the funeral, something cold and precise settled fully into place.
They hadn’t just taken from her.
They had misjudged her.
And that mistake would cost them everything.
- Writer
