Page 20 of Shadow Of Sin

I stay in the doorway. I don’t walk in.

“You going to stand there all night?” he asks.

“I’m deciding.”

“Deciding what?”

“Whether this is the second worst decision I’ve ever made.”

He doesn’t try to reassure me. Doesn’t say “you can trust me” or “I’m not going to hurt you” or any of the things Daniel would have said, smooth and warm and completely full of shit. He just steps back and leaves the door open, giving me the choice.

I hate that that’s the thing that makes me walk in.

Behind him, his apartment looks like someone crammed an entire office into a studio. There are monitors, cables, and a desk that takes up half the living room. And on the kitchen counter, a single box of Honey Nut Cheerios is lined up with the edge perfectly.

“Is that your dinner?” I ask, pointing at the box.

“My needs are pretty simple.”

“Just Honey Nut Cheerios?” I put the drive on his desk, but I don’t sit down. Not yet. “Not every night, right?”

He nods. “Every night.”

“That’s depressing. Also not exactly the dinner of champions.” I waggle my eyebrows at him.

“I’ve never been a fan of Wheaties. And cereal is efficient. I don’t waste time deciding what to eat. I spend that time on things that matter.”

“And Honey Nut Cheerios is where you landed for ‘most efficient meal’?”

“They’re a perfectly balanced cereal.”

“They’re what you feed toddlers.”

He looks at me over his glasses and I swear there’s the tiniest flicker of amusement in those blue eyes, gone so fast I almost miss it. “Do you want some or not?”

“I’d rather eat the box.”

He doesn’t smile, but his mouth does the thing. The quick sideways twitch that I’m starting to catalog against my better judgment.

I sit down. Not because I trust him. Because I need to see what’s on that drive more than I need to protect myself from another bad decision.

“What’s on the drive?” he asks, pulling it into his system.

“Meridian Capital Partners. Client lists, six months of internal comms, real estate holdings in the Boston area. Dmitri wanted it by Friday. I gave it to him by tonight because I don’t like owing him extra days.”

“Smart.” His fingers are already moving across the keyboard at that superhuman speed. “What else did he ask for?”

“Nothing. Well, that’s not true. He asked about Sal. The way he always does.” I lean against the wall and fold my arms. “Like he’s asking about a pet he’s thinking about putting down.”

Something in Wolfe’s jaw tightens. It’s barely noticeable, but I’ve been reading faces for a long time now.

“Tell me about the meeting,” he says.

“It was at a café in Back Bay at ten this morning. He sat at a table with his back to the wall, had a coffee he barely touched, and wore a coat that probably costs more than my rent. He smiled the whole time.” I shrug. “Standard Dmitri.”

“Did he seem different? Suspicious? Anything off?”

“He seemed exactly the same as always, which is the most unsettling thing about him. The man is consistently creepy.”