Chapter 8
Sebastian Vale requested a meeting.
I accepted.
Neutral estate.
No hostility.
He brought one phone.
Placed it on the table.
“Marcus sent the images here.”
I examined the message thread.
No need for technical proof.
The important part was conversation.
Sebastian had asked:
SHOW ME THE CROSSING.
Marcus sent the entire map.
Sebastian replied:
WHY ARE THERE FAMILY NAMES ON THIS?
Marcus:
IGNORE THEM.
There.
He knew.
The refuge properties were clearly labeled with initials of people housed there.
Widows.
Retired elders.
Children.
Marcus did not accidentally expose them.
He saw the risk and minimized it.
Sebastian looked at me.
“That’s when I stopped.”
I believed him more because he showed me the message that made Marcus look worse.
“What did you want?”
“To know whether your northern route crossed mine.”
“Why not ask?”
Sebastian laughed.
“Would you have answered?”
Probably not.
Fair.
“So you bought information.”
“I collected leverage.”
At least honest.
We sat in silence.
Then I said:
“You used a man’s fear about his reputation.”
“Yes.”
He did not apologize.
Interesting.
“But children weren’t part of the bargain.”
“No.”
“Then never make them part of another.”
He looked at me.
“Is that a threat?”
“No.”
I kept my voice low.
“It’s the reason we can leave this room without becoming enemies.”
He understood.
Families like ours survive partly through lines everyone agrees not to cross.
Not morality in full.
Boundaries.
We redrew the northern routes together enough to reduce future misunderstandings.
Not alliance.
Practical coexistence.
Then Sebastian asked:
“What happens to Marcus?”
“My problem.”
“And Bianca?”
“Not yours.”
He smiled.
“Still possessive.”
“No.”
I stood.
“Specific.”
That mattered.
Bianca was no longer my fiancée.
Still not public property for men to gossip about.
Outside, Rafe asked:
“Trust him?”
“No.”
“Good meeting?”
“Yes.”
May you like
Both can be true.
That was another thing I was learning.
