The meeting room is hidden deep in neutral territory, an old warehouse with reinforced walls.
I can feel Sienna pressed against me. I put my arm around her waist, with my other hand on her belly.
Agent Reyes sits across the steel table. He’s middle-aged, sharp-eyed, and has the careful posture of a man who knows he’s surrounded by predators. Two aides flank him.
“Thanks for meeting us,” Reyes says, his voice steady. His eyes flick to Sienna’s stomach before snapping back to me. Smart man. “We know the situation is… delicate.”
“Your people helped murder my father. They killed Sienna’s mother. And now you want to talk?”
Sienna squeezes my hand—a silent reminder. Through our bond, she feels calm but strong, her golden thread steady despite the contractions that started at dawn.
Reyes
