Julian’s expression instantly hardened, the warmth in his eyes vanishing as he stared at the flashing screen.

He didn’t answer it immediately; he just watched it spin against the polished wood of the table.

The phone kept vibrating, making a dull buzzing sound against the dark mahogany.

Julian slid his thumb across the glass and lifted the receiver to his ear.

“Mercer,” he said.

His voice was flat, devoid of the warmth he had shown me a moment before.

I watched his knuckles turn white as he gripped the sleek black casing.

“I see,” he said, his eyes fixing on the snow falling outside the tall arched windows.

“Has the warrant been fully executed?”

There was a pause, a low crackle of static coming from the earpiece.

“And Vanessa?” Julian asked, his tone cool and detached.

He listened for what felt like a long time, his jaw tight.

“Good. Keep me updated on the arraignment.”

He tapped the screen to end the call and set the phone back on the table.

“The federal prosecutor in Washington,” he said, looking up at me.