Ricci
A Price on Her Name.
She was late. The dining room was silent except for the clinking of silverware against plates. The air was thick, choking in a way that had nothing to do with the heat from the chandelier overhead.
Gerald Williams sat before me, looking tidy in his suit, his face lined with impatience that was poorly concealed.
“She’s late,” he muttered, drumming his fingers on the table. His eyes turned to mine, a hopefulness in them, as though I would be the one who would call her here.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
I had run out of patience with him, anyway.
The door creaked open.
And there she was.
Sophia.
I exhaled deeply, watching as she came towards us, my jaw clicking as my eyes immediately snagged on the specifics.
Something was off.
Her hair was tousled as i
