Chapter 23: The First Move

I barely slept that night.

Not because I was scared—fear was a luxury I couldn't afford—but because my mind wouldn't stop dissecting Damien's words.

"You're not just being watched… you're being studied."

That meant whoever was out there wasn't some random thug. They were patient. Calculated. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

I hated waiting.

By morning, I was running on caffeine and irritation. Kai had crashed on my couch, one arm draped over his eyes, snoring like he didn't have a care in the world. I envied that.

I tossed a pillow at his face. "Wake up, bodyguard."

Kai groaned. "I liked it better when you were nice to me."

"When was that?"

"Fair point."

He sat up, raking a hand through his hair. "Tell me we have a plan."

I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my messages. Nothing from Damien. Nothing from Liam. But one message did catch my eye.

Unknown Number: We should talk. Coffee?

Attached was a location. A small café in a quiet part of the city. No signature, no threats. Just an invitation.

I showed the message to Kai.

"And you think this is a good idea?" he asked, raising a brow.

"I think it's our first move," I said.

Kai sighed. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."

"Obviously."

Thirty minutes later, we pulled up to the café. It was a quiet place, the kind that served overpriced coffee to people who pretended to read books. I scanned the room, my gaze locking onto a man sitting in the farthest booth.

He was young—early thirties, maybe—sharp suit, sharp jawline, sharp eyes. The kind of man who had never been desperate a day in his life.

When our eyes met, he smiled. Like he knew me.

"That him?" Kai muttered.

"Looks like it."

We approached the table. The man didn't stand, didn't extend a hand. He just gestured to the seat across from him.

"Celeste Donovan," he said smoothly. "I was hoping you'd come."

I slid into the booth. "You have me at a disadvantage."

His smile widened. "Oh, I doubt that."

Kai sat beside me, arms crossed. "Cut to the chase. Who the hell are you?"

The man chuckled. "Direct. I like that. You can call me Adrian."

"And why exactly would I do that?" I asked.

Adrian leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Because I know why you're being watched. And more importantly… I know who's behind it."

I kept my expression unreadable, but my pulse quickened.

"Go on," I said.

Adrian's smile never wavered. "First, let's talk about what you can offer me."

Of course.

Nothing was ever free.