Kate's POV
I forced the memory back down before it could grab me.
Focus on the bakery on Ninth Street. Just the bakery. Just the bread.
By the time I reached that block, the air was already thick with the warm, sugary perfume of butter and yeast, and it cut through the noise in my head like a knife through ribbon. I let myself breathe it in. I let myself pick out far too much, enough loaves and pastries to feed five grown men, before I made myself stop.
It was Saturday, but Damon was still working. Not at Voss Group.
"He uses a members only legal club downtown on weekends," Darius had told me in the car, eyes on the road. "Limestone, brass plaque, the kind of place that pretends to be a coffee house but keeps a notary on staff. There's a private wing in the back for confidential meeti
