Page 120 of Collateral Love
“Good,” I replied. “Then she can watch us not flinch.”
I turned back to the city.
“This phase,” I said, voice steady, “is about restraint.”
Xavier raised a brow. “Since when?”
“Since killing stopped being the most powerful move,” I answered.
Outside, the rain had stopped. The streets looked clean. Ordinary. Like nothing underneath them was cracking under pressure.
That was the illusion.
And illusions were expensive to maintain.
“Keep Charles breathing,” I ordered. “Keep Cameron guessing. And keep Miles close enough to hang himself.”
Xavier smiled grimly. “That won’t take long.”
Channy picked up her folder again. “What about Kenya?”
My chest tightened.
“She’s still the axis,” I said. “Let her heal. I have the best doctors caring for her.”
I wokeup to silence that felt engineered.
Not peaceful.
Not gentle.
Deliberate.
The kind of quiet you build when you don’t want anyone overhearing you breathe wrong.
The room smelled like antiseptic and money. Leave it to my extra ass husband to hire private care and off-the-books doctors. But this is why we built in silence for decades, because discretion paid for it in advance. My body hurt in ways that felt layered, like pain had decided to stack itself instead of choosing a single place to live.
I didn’t open my eyes right away.
I cataloged instead.
Left wrist: wrapped, stiff.
Ribs: bruised, but not broken.
Jaw: tender.
Head: clear.
Good.
They didn’t break my mind. That was the only thing that mattered.
“Stop pretending you’re asleep.” Zayden’s voice broke through my mental inventory. His voice was low and familiar.
I smiled before I opened my eyes. That pissed him off every time.
“You’re late,” I said.
