There was a long silence on the other end, filled only with the faint static of the cellular network.

“Not over the phone,” Darrow said. “Meet me at the old shipyard warehouse. Pier Forty. In twenty minutes.”

“No,” Liam said. “We meet at my office downtown. The top floor of the Vance Tower. It is secure, and I control the doors.”

Darrow cursed under his breath.

“Fine,” Darrow said. “Twenty minutes. Lift the customs hold the moment I get there.”

“I will lift it when I have the truth,” Liam said, and ended the call.

Liam turned to me, his hands resting on my shoulders.

“You do not have to come,” he said.

“I am coming,” I said. “I need to look him in the eye when he admits it.”

We left the apartment quickly, the cold night air hitting my face like a slap.

We rode down the elevator in silence, our reflections staring back at us from the polished metal walls.

Liam’s driver was waiting at the curb, the black sedan idling in the dark.

We climbed into the back seat, the leather cold against my legs.