Chapter 17 · The Door Under the Floor

The door didn't close.

Aiden stood there, hand still wrapped around Leah's wrist, staring at the bone gate carved into his café floor. The Council's voice had gone quiet. No thunder. No threats. Just that door, open, waiting.

Leah pulled her hand back. Slowly. Like she was testing if he'd let her.

He did.

"They're not done," she said. Her voice was flat. Auditor voice. The one she used when she was tallying up his violations. "You told them the contract's void. They said 'very good.' That's not how the Council works."

Aiden didn't look at her. Couldn't. If he looked at her he'd see the tracker on her wrist, dark now, and he'd remember what the ledger had shown him. Leah Vaughn. Debt. Target.

His last mark.

"Maybe they're tired," he said. His voice came out wrong. Too light. Like he was joking. He wasn't joking.

"They don't get tired." Leah stepped around him, moving toward the door. Aiden's hand shot out, caught her elbow.

"Don't."

"I'm just looking."

"Don't look. Don't get close. Don't—" He stopped. Swallowed. "Just don't."

Leah turned, and now he had to look at her. Her face was pale.