The look of someone who’d learned, long ago, that power didn’t always protect.
“Your phone tells them where you are,” she said. “And your security? Your captain friend?” Her mouth tightened. “Bought.”
Marcus stared at her like she’d spoken another language. “Reed is loyal to me.”
Aisha’s laugh was short, bitter. “He’s loyal to whoever pays. Your brother didn’t just poison you, Marcus. He bought the exits too.”
They reached the back door.
Outside, the sky hung low and gray. Rain threatened in the distance. The air smelled like wet stone and trimmed hedges.
Aisha didn’t let him stop to think. She grabbed a baseball cap from a hook, jammed it into his hands, and shoved it onto his head.
“Put your hood up,” she ordered.
“I’m not wearing a—”
“Do you want to live?” she snapped, and Marcus fell silent.
