Thankfully, the sofa was large—otherwise, Eli might’ve slid right off it, flabbergasted and half-ready to bolt.

  Ravi and Jimmy separated from their brief hug, and Jimmy made his way toward an opulent wine cabinet nestled between two shelves of old books and locked drawers.

  “Sauternes?” he asked, like this was any other evening, like nothing had happened.

  “Sure, uncle,” Ravi said, unbothered.

  Eli blinked. Uncle? That word landed like a punch.

  Jimmy was Ravi’s uncle?

  Before Eli could find his voice, Ravi added smoothly, “He’ll have the same.”

  Jimmy didn’t wait for confirmation. “Two coming right up.” He plucked the bottle from the rack, uncorked it with a crisp pop, and retrieved two glasses—though Eli hadn’t seen where from. The wine flowed in measured portions, golden and deceptively light. He handed them over with the poise of a seasoned host, then poured one for himself.

  The cigar, now a stub, still smoldered in his mouth. He took a long drag before finally setting it in the ashtray.

  Then, he turned.

  He lowered himself into the couch opposite, his gaze settling on Eli like a weight.

  “Well,” he said, tone quieter now, almost regretful. “I owe your friend here an apology.”

  Ravi stayed silent. Eli shifted in his seat, feeling suddenly very exposed.

  “You don’t have to—” he started, the words barely out.

  Jimmy raised a hand. The air stilled, like someone had turned off the ventilation.

  “Let me finish.”

  Gone was the cheerful uncle. In his place: the man Eli had seen during the day, the one whose eyes had no reflection.

  “It’s about what happened. A few weeks back.”

  Eli’s heart thudded. His eyes darted to Ravi, who wouldn’t meet his gaze. Wouldn’t even look up.

  “Ravi didn’t betray you,” Jimmy said. “He confided in me—as he was right to. This isn’t a game for secrecy between allies.”

  He stood, slowly, like stretching something too long confined. As he began pacing, his voice lost all pretense of gentleness.

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  “You weren’t supposed to be there, Ravi. The woman’s death… was unfortunate. She wasn’t part of the plan. She wasn’t even supposed to be in the building.”

  He stopped behind Eli, just long enough for the hair on his neck to rise.

  “I run things clean. Quiet. My business depends on the illusion that we don’t exist. That this city is safe, calm, civil. The neighbors think I fund soup kitchens. They don’t know about the basements.”

  Jimmy stepped back into view, eyes now sharp and appraising.

  “The man who dragged Eli into that mess? He’s no longer a problem. Quietly dealt with.”

  A pause.

  “As for the others who stepped in without my say—well, I’ll deal with them. Personally.”

  “Uncle—” Ravi’s voice cracked, unsteady.

  Jimmy cut him off with a glance. “No need to worry. Fear has a long memory. My people need to remember who not to cross in my city.”

  His smile returned—but it didn’t reach his eyes. It never had.

  Then, just as suddenly, he softened his tone. “But that’s business. Let’s talk about opportunity.”

  He turned to Eli.

  “You’re promoted. From errand mule to supply mule. More responsibility. Three times the pay. You’ll eat for free at any of my establishments.”

  Eli didn’t move. The glass in his hand felt heavy. Like a bribe.

  “Ravi will be your liaison,” Jimmy continued. “He’ll give you keys to the trucks. More details will follow. For now…” He lifted his glass. “Drink. Sauternes is best when it’s fresh.”

  Eli raised the glass to his lips, but didn’t taste it. The sweetness might as well have been poison.

  The rest of the evening dissolved into noise. Ravi and Jimmy caught up—stories about college, family, things Eli no longer felt part of. He learned Jimmy had married Ravi’s aunt. Had paid for his tuition. Had known about Eli from the start.

  None of the crew knew about their relationship. Jimmy liked it that way. Discretion wasn’t a preference—it was a survival tactic.

  Eventually, Ravi stood and shook his uncle’s hand. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  Jimmy gave a nod. As the heavy door closed behind them, Eli turned once more.

  Jimmy had already turned his back to them. The warmth was gone. He was once again the man behind the curtain—cold, calculating, and already thinking about the next move.

  ***

  They didn’t speak as they walked outside, their steps echoing in the quiet night. Ravi unlocked the car with a beep, and they slid inside—Eli in the passenger seat, a seat that once felt like home, but now it felt like a distant memory.

  The engine hummed to life. Ravi didn’t glance over. Neither did Eli.

  “You never told me Jimmy was your uncle,” Eli finally said, his voice tight.

  Ravi’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, but he kept his eyes on the road. “Didn’t seem relevant.”

  “No shit,” Eli muttered. “That man... talks like a gentleman, but I’ve never seen anyone make murder sound like good business.”

  Ravi remained silent.

  “You knew about the woman?” Eli asked, his gaze shifting toward him. “Back then?”

  “I knew someone died,” Ravi replied, his voice low. “I didn’t know you saw it.”

  Eli let out a bitter laugh. “And now I get a promotion.”

  “I brought you in to protect you,” Ravi said, his tone quiet but firm. “This was always going to catch up to you. I just made sure it didn’t get you first.”

  Eli stared at him, his jaw clenched tight. “You made a choice. And you made mine for me, too.”

  Ravi met his eyes for a split second before returning his focus to the road. “That’s how it works now.”

  Eli sank back into his seat, eyes drifting out the window as the city lights blurred past. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. But this time, it felt like it might last.

  The car rumbled on, the weight of the unspoken hanging between them, neither one quite sure where they were heading, but both knowing they had no choice but to keep moving.

  ***