The room didn’t explode after the call.
That was the most unsettling part.
No shouting. No scrambling. No dramatic collapse of composure. Just a quiet, suffocating stillness—as if every molecule in the private dining room had decided to hold its breath and wait for instruction.
I lowered the phone slowly and placed it face down on the table.
Alexander’s hand was still around mine. Steady. Present. I felt the subtle tension in his grip—not panic, not anger, but calculation layered over restraint.
Elena, on the other hand, looked like someone who had just realized the door she’d been pushing against wasn’t locked because it was open.
“Who was that?” she asked, though her voice lacked conviction now.
I didn’t answer her.
I looked at Alexander. “They know.”
He nodded once. “I assumed
