Page 98 of Brox Boar

“His cell,” Rio says.

Shiaou stops, pats Alessio’s body, finds the cell and passes it to Rio.

Rio reaches into his jacket and pulls out his own cell. He steps away from Lana’s chair, crosses to the sideboard, then dials and puts it on speaker. The ring tone is brief.

“Rio,” Sol answers.

“I need you to order a cab to the airport.”

Sol doesn’t ask why. He never does. “Now?”

“Now,” Rio replies. “But you have to use Alessio’s cell. And I have it with me.”

I glance at Lana. She’s still holding her champagne, the flute is almost empty now.

Sol speaks again, businesslike. “I’m already on my way to you. Shiaou called.”

Rio turns slightly, eyes tracking the door Shiaou used. “We also need a man in that cab.”

Sol pauses a fraction. “To the airport?”

“Yes,” Rio says. “We don’t want the police asking questions.”

Smart. A cab ordered to the airport becomes a story. A story becomes a timeline. A man in the cab becomes insurance.

Sol’s tone stays even. “Sure.”

Rio ends the call and places it in his pocket. Then he turns to Lana. She gives a small breath that might be a laugh.

Rio leans in, his voice low. “You did well.”

Lana’s eyes lift. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You stayed,” Rio says.

Her lips part, then close. She nods once. The nod says more than words.

CHAPTER 26

RIO

I haven’t slept this well in months, and I can’t remember the last time I woke up this late.

The thought hits me the moment I open my eyes, clean and undeniable. No tension in my jaw. No pressure behind my eyes. No restless looping through half-finished problems. My body feels settled, aligned, finished with something that’s been dragging at me for far too long.

Alessio. The name doesn’t bring the usual irritation anymore. It lands flat. Dead weight cut loose.

I’m tangled with Lana, the sheets still warm and heavy with her sleeping. She lies on her side, her hair fanned across the pillow, one hand curled loosely against my chest. Brox is sprawled on the other side of her, his arm thrown over her waist. Neither of them stirs when I open my eyes. I lie there for a moment, listening to their breathing, feeling the weight of them anchoring me, and realize this stillness is why I slept so well.

I ease myself free without waking either of them, slip into the bathroom for a quick shower, then head to my own bedroom to get dressed.

I dress up without thinking about it. The suit feels right the moment it settles on my shoulders, the fabric familiar, the lines clean. I knot my tie once, straight, no mirror correction needed. Some habits stay even when the pressure lifts.

Then I grab a freshly brewed coffee, Shiaou’s best, and go downstairs into the office, to see what else we have to deal with. I sit at my desk and let the silence sit with me for a moment. One headache remains. Rex.

I don’t chase the thought yet. There’s no rush. Rex exists, which means we’ll need to deal with him sooner or later, but not today. Today is for closing doors properly, not opening new ones.

I reach for the folder I left unfinished yesterday, flip it open, scan the numbers. Everything lines up. Everything behaves. I allow myself a single breath of satisfaction, then my cell rings.