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took a slow drink and set the glass down, "His name is Zion Blackwood, private investor, old money, serious money, comes in twice a year, same setup every time, top floor, his own security on the door, no phones, no cameras." "No cameras," I repeated, totally normal, nothing alarming about that at all. "His team's requirement from the start." "And you agreed." "One night with Zion Blackwood covers six months of operating costs, so yes I agreed," he looked at me straight, "eleven o'clock, dressed, ready, professional." I looked at his face, the tension around his eyes, the way his hand on the bar wasn't quite steady, the way he kept glancing at that door. Scared, actually genuinely scared. Marcus Webb, the man who had bought my contract without blinking, was standing here scared of a name. Interesting. "Fine," I said. He blinked, "Fine?" "Eleven o'clock, top floor," I turned from the bar, "you'll get your money Marcus." Gia pulled me into the alcove before I made it three steps. "You just said yes," she said. "I know." "You never just say yes." "I want to see what has Marcus looking like that," I glanced back at him, still at the bar, still watching the door, "three years I've been here and I have never once seen him scared of a single person who walked through that entrance, not once." "So your plan is to walk toward the scary thing." "My plan is to understand it." "Zara that is the most dangerous thing you've said this week." "It's Monday Gia." "Exactly," she grabbed my arm, "just be smart tonight please, that's all I'm asking." "Smart is the only thing keeping me alive in here," I stepped back into the hallway, "I'll be fine." "You always say that." "I'm always right." I spent the next two hours on the floor, working tables, keeping my tips up, my face neutral and my mind busy, but those green eyes kept drifting back into my head no matter how many times I pushed them out, that stillness, that look, that shiver I was still annoyed about. I didn't do shivers, not in this building, not for an