Beneath the Surface

Chapter 9: Dinner for Six

The cursor pulsed at the end of the message as if unwilling to let her forget its meaning. "The truth is… you are next."

It wasn’t merely the words on the screen—it was the ruthless certainty behind them, the deliberate, confident promise that something terrible was coming.

"Alexia?" The soft call startled her. She flinched at the sound, but Elliot’s eyes were already scanning her reaction and then shifting to the laptop with narrowed concern. In a rapid motion, she snapped it shut as if to silence the threat.

“What is it?” Elliot pressed, his voice low and measured.

“Nothing,” she mumbled.

“Alexia.” His tone left no room for evasion.

Without replying, she flipped the laptop open once more. The threatening message reappeared in stark white against the dark screen, unyielding and ominous.

“When did this come in?” Elliot asked, his tone edged with urgency.

“Just now,” she answered, her voice a blend of disbelief and dread.

Almost immediately, Elliot’s phone beeped. As soon as the call connected, a new voice filled the room. “Anna,” he announced, his tone brisk. “I need a trace on an email.”

Alexia’s eyes remained fixed on the screen; she did not meet his gaze. Elliot circled the table and lowered himself into the chair opposite her, leaning in as if to catch every nuance of her reaction.

“Talk to me,” he urged softly.

“I don’t like threats,” she confessed in a hushed tone. “Especially ones that don’t even come with a name.”

“They want a reaction,” Elliot deduced, his voice thoughtful.

“They have one,” she replied, her eyes flickering with defiance.

“Not the one they were expecting,” he added, a note of challenge in his tone.

Alexia met his gaze, her expression hardening. “You sure about that?” she queried, the tension swirling between them like charged electricity.

At that moment, Elliot’s phone buzzed again. He glanced down at the screen, and Anna’s voice filled the space once more. “No traceable IP. It’s bouncing off multiple servers. This wasn’t sent by an amateur,” she reported.

“Figured as much,” Elliot murmured, a grim smile tugging at his lips.

“But,” Anna continued, “I did catch something. The email was sent through an encrypted relay, but the final bounce came just twenty minutes ago—from somewhere within the city.”

“They’re close,” Ben interjected, his voice low enough to underscore the gravity.

“Very close,” Anna confirmed, her voice even. “And they’re watching.”

A heavy, unsettling silence stretched between them until Elliot finally exhaled slowly. “Understood. Keep digging,” he instructed before the call ended abruptly.

“So, let’s recap,” she began, her tone laced with both disbelief and determination. “Someone tried to breach your security last night. And now I’m getting these personalized, chilling messages,” said Alexia.

“It’s not a coincidence,” Elliot replied, his voice soft but firm.

“No kidding,” she shot back.

Just then, Elliot’s phone buzzed again. This time, the screen flashed a familiar name: Ava. Elliot answered without hesitation. “Tell me you have news,” he said, his voice a mix of hope and urgency.

Ava’s voice came through immediately, decisive and brisk. “We’re coming.”

“That fast?” Elliot’s brow furrowed.

“You really have to ask?” Ava teased, her tone light but carrying a serious undertone.

“ETA?” Elliot pressed, eyes narrowing.

“Early afternoon,” she replied, matter-of-fact.

“Wait. What?” Alexia’s voice broke through the conversation, confusion prickling her tone.

It was as if Ava had caught the mix of shock and curiosity in Alexia’s inflection, because her next words were laced with a playful warning. “Don’t sound so surprised, Alexia.”

“You’re in Rome,” Alexia pointed out. “That’s a ten-hour flight at best.”

“Try seven and a half,” Ben cut in sharply from the line, eliciting a ripple of murmured astonishment.

“That’s not possible unless—”

“Unless they own the plane,” Elliot interjected, his tone laden with the realization of what that might mean.

Alexia turned sharply toward him, her eyes wide. “They—wait, what?”

“Ava and Ben don’t just own a plane; they fly it. They have full piloting licenses, a private jet, and a dedicated crew,” Elliot explained, the implications swirling in the charged air around them.

Alexia absorbed the information, her mind racing to catch up. “Point is, we’re already in the air. See you soon,”

“That was…” she started, still grasping the enormity of their situation. “Unexpected.”

“You haven’t even scratched the surface of who they are,” Elliot replied cryptically, though the gravity in his voice left little room for debate.

Before Alexia could probe further, Elliot abruptly pushed away from the table. “I’ll tell you more later,” he said casually, though undertones of heavy responsibility resonated in his words. “To a point.”

Later that evening, the restaurant exuded quiet sophistication. Dim, amber lighting draped the room in a warm glow, and the intimate setting.

At the center of a secluded private dining section, a round table awaited, its six chairs arranged to encourage easy conversation and genuine connection rather than isolation.

When Myra and Edward arrived, their entrance did little to disturb the lighthearted atmosphere. There were friendly smiles and courteous nods exchanged, with greetings marked by a casual warmth that belied the undercurrents of tension swirling just beneath the surface.

Edward extended his hand to shake Ben’s—a grip firm enough to convey confidence but marred by a fleeting moment of hesitation, as if testing the waters for hidden motives.

The dinner began as though it were an ordinary evening. Wine was poured carefully into crystal glasses, the rich ruby liquid catching the low light and casting soft reflections on the table.

Background chatter flowed like a gentle tide, filling the spaces between conversations with the gentle hum of murmured familiarity. Had dinner been normal, these moments might have seemed perfectly unremarkable. But something was off—an undercurrent of meaning behind the polished smiles.

Ben raised his glass. “To new friends and good company,” he toasted, and the sound of clinking glasses punctuated the beginning of what was an unguarded ritual—a signal that barriers were momentarily lowered, and genuine engagement was expected.

Ava and Ben had never formally met Myra and Edward before. Now, within mere minutes, those short glimpses would unravel into something more profound, as both pairs dissected each other’s words and gestures.

Alexia continued to feel Elliot’s steady gaze fixed on her earlier—a silent assessment ensuring that she was bracing herself for whatever might come next. It wasn’t an interrogation, but a careful observation of someone caught in the middle of a mystery.

The conversation at the table flowed smoothly at first; Ben allowed Edward to steer certain exchanges, a subtle maneuver designed to let him speak at length—to feel in control, perhaps even to reveal his true colors.

Meanwhile, Ava played her part perfectly, her eyes always watchful as she complimented the delicate glint of Myra’s bracelet, a small gesture loaded with unspoken significance.

Ava played her role. She complimented Myra’s bracelet.

There it was—the hesitation. A second too long. Not noticeable to the untrained eye, but Ava noticed.

“Oh, thank you! Yes, a gift from Edward.”

The truth is… the game had just…