Elijah's POV
The safe house was quiet. Too quiet. I sat by the window, watching darkness swallow the lake outside. The cabin Adrian had found reminded me of another place, twenty years ago. A summer house. A fire. A boy who was supposed to die.
My fingers traced the scar on my forearm—a reminder of that night.
The burner phone Victor had given us buzzed on the table. Another message. Fifth one in the last hour. My lieutenants, scrambling like ants whose hill had been kicked. The Ghost had vanished, and his empire was crumbling.
Let it burn.
The door creaked open behind me. Adrian, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs.
"Thought you might want some coffee," he said, setting the tray down. "It's terrible, but it's hot."
"Thanks." I didn't reach for it.
Adrian sighed, pulling up a ch
