Chapter 43: The Safe House
The drive upstate was quiet except for the hum of tires on asphalt and Rico occasionally humming some old Afrobeat tune under his breath to keep things from getting too heavy. Bella sat pressed against me in the back seat, head on my shoulder, one hand resting on her stomach like she was talking to the baby without words. Marcus drove. Lydia rode shotgun, laptop open on her knees, eyes flicking between screens and the road.
Nobody spoke much. There wasn’t much to say after Dragomir showed up at our door like he owned the place. The fact that he’d walked right up to the penthouse, bandaged and limping but still breathing, still smiling, still threatening our kid… it sat on all of us like wet concrete.
Rico finally broke the silence about forty minutes out. “So.
