Chapter 13 · Face to Face with a Ghost

"Look at you," Marcus said, his voice smooth as polished glass. "You look like something the gutters spat out and forgot to swallow."

He didn't even stand up. He just sat there at the head of the obsidian table, swirling a glass of amber liquid that probably cost more than Kane's entire life. The lighting in the private lounge was dim, all velvet and gold, making the blood on Kane's knuckles look like wet ink.

Kane didn't flinch. He stepped forward, the heavy thud of his boots echoing against the marble. "Missed me, Marcus?"

Marcus chuckled, a dry sound that didn't reach his eyes. "I didn't think I would. I spent three months enjoying the silence. You were always so... loud, Kane. Always talking about loyalty, always playing the hero. It was exhausting."

"Loyalty," Kane spat, his voice raw. "Is that what we're calling it? I call it getting stabbed in the back by the guy I shared a bunk with for five years."

Evelyn shifted beside him. He could feel the warmth of her shoulder pressing against his arm, her presence the only thing keeping him from lunging across the table.