Chapter 63

Ben quickens his pace to keep up with me as we leave the building, saying, "Ethan, you can't keep walking away from me like this." His frustration is scarcely disguised in his tight voice. "You owe me an explanation."

I hardly look over, maintaining a neutral attitude. As we make our way to my car, I exclaim sharply, "Not here," adjusting my jacket.

Ben doesn't protest, but he mutters something under his breath. He leans back in the passenger seat, his arms crossed like a reprimanded child, while I turn on the engine. I drive quietly, ignoring the heavy groans he puts out every few minutes, until we arrive at one of our favorite locations-a classy, private restaurant that provides the seclusion we require.

I give the waiter, who already knows our orders, a nod as we take our seats in a booth in the corner. Ben groans in frustration and runs a hand through his hair as soon as he leaves. "This whole thing is suffocating, Ethan. All the falsehoods, all the secrecy... I'm not built for this."

I feel my patience ebbing as I take a sip of water. "Ben, we're in the middle of something far bigger than personal discomfort."

"Oh, please don't give me that," he yells, bending forward. "You just told the entire room that Richards won't be a problem, but you wouldn't explain how. And without consulting me or any of us, you have been making decisions that have an impact on everyone.

"Do you honestly think I need to explain every single move to you?" I inquire, looking at him sternly but calmly. "I'm handling it, Ben."

"Handling it?" His face flushes with frustration, and he speaks angrily. "So now you're playing chess master with people's lives? With my life?"

I allow him to vent by remaining silent, but as he continues, my annoyance grows.

His voice falling, he goes on, "Look, Ethan, you pulled me into this, and now I'm knee-deep in lies and cover-ups, and I'm just meant to trust you? To follow along mindlessly? I don't know how long I can continue like this."

Our drinks come before I can reply. Ben picks up his glass and takes a long, thoughtful sip, as though the booze will calm him down. When the waiter has gone, I bend forward.

"All right, if you really need to know, I'll tell you," I offer calmly while closely observing his response. "I gave Victor a call."

Ben's eyes enlarge instantly, and he almost chokes on his drink. He repeats, bringing his voice down to a ferocious whisper, "Victor? Are you out of your mind?"

"Slow down," I say. "He owes me a favor, and I decided to collect. Victor has connections in law enforcement that most people can only dream of."

Ben gives me a disbelieving look. "So you're just... asking favors from Victor now? Since when did we become the kind of people who ask him for anything?"

I feel the tension between us growing as I shrug. "Because we were in a situation where Richards was going to destroy everything we had worked so hard to achieve."

"And how do you know that this is truly over?" His voice simmers with rage as he presses. "How do you know Victor actually came through?"

"Because that's how Victor works," I say with a half-hearted sense of assurance. "I asked him to pull some strings, and he did. Richards isn't a threat anymore."

Ben wipes his face and shakes his head, taking in this information. "Don't you see just how dangerous this is, Ethan? Working with Victor it's like putting your head in a noose and hoping he doesn't pull the lever."

I look him square in the eyes. "Ben, I'm not naïve. I understand what it means to work with Victor."

"Then why are you doing it?" His voice hardly rises beyond a whisper as he hisses. "Why not just go in a different direction?"

My patience finally gives out, and I respond harshly, "Because there is no other way. You think this is easy for me? You think I wanted to be in a position where I have to call in favors from men like Victor? I did this to keep us safe. To keep Emily safe."

Ben averts his gaze and clenches his jaw, displaying a strong conflict between loyalty and frustration. "I understand your desire to keep everyone safe, but this... this doesn't feel right. It feels like we're just digging ourselves deeper."

I sigh as the situation's weight presses down on me. "you have to make choices that don't feel right. That's the price of survival."

He twists the glass slowly in his palms without answering, gazing down at his drink. Words hang in the air, heavy and unsaid, and the stillness stretches between us.

Ben looks up at last, a mixture of resignation and rage in his eyes. "Just... swear to me that you won't do business with him again without first informing me."

I nod slowly, even though I am aware that I might not be able to fulfill that commitment. "All right, Ben. I'll keep you informed."

He appears not totally persuaded, but he nods and sits back in his chair while taking another sip of his drink. "So, what happens now?"

I say, with a calm tone, "Now, we wait. Richards is temporarily off our back, but it doesn't mean we're done with the problem. We need to be cautious and cover any loose ends."

Ben sighs softly and shakes his head. "I didn't sign up for this."

"No," I murmur in agreement. "None of us signed up for that. But that's what we must do."

Our conversation drifts into silence again. We pay the bill and depart the restaurant after a few minutes, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts.

A weird feeling of dread descends upon me as we emerge onto the street. I'm having trouble putting my finger on it, but something feels strange. I look about, taking in the surroundings, but I don't see anything unusual.

As we approach my car, I'm ready to grab the handle when someone emerges from the darkness to obstruct my way. I recognize him-Agent Richards-and my heart skips a beat because he seems more fierce and angry than I've ever seen him.

His voice is brimming with hardly restrained rage as he continues, "Ethan. Will you mind telling me what you did?"

I put my hands in my pockets and raise an eyebrow, pretending to be clueless. "Done? Richards, I don't know what you're talking about."

He scoffs and advances a step. "Cut the act. I'm not sure who you conspired with, but I was just removed from your case by my superiors. And that doesn't happen without some serious pressure from upstairs."

I smile puzzledly at him. "Well, maybe they finally realized you were wasting time on a wild goose chase."

Richards narrows his gaze and clenches his jaw. "You think this is a game? Monroe, you may have influential friends, but don't think for a moment that I'll stop looking. I'm going to find out who you know, who pulled these strings, and when I do"

He falters, but it's obvious that he's threatening.

I maintain my smile while I look him in the eye. "Richards, you could give it a go. But I'd suggest using your resources elsewhere. You know more productive areas."

He gives me a long look while wearing a mask of anger and irritation, and then he eventually backs off. He growls, pivoted on his heel, and vanishes back into the darkness, saying, "This isn't over."

A smirk tugs at the corners of my mouth as I watch him leave. It's obvious that he's shaken. And that's sufficient for now.

The consequences of what I just did weigh heavily on me as I get into my car. Richards may be temporarily off our case, but he won't be gone for good. And when he returns, he will be much more determined to defeat us.