Alvin Reed arrived earlier than he should have. It was instinct, a habit he had never shaken off—when it came to the Blackwoods, lateness was never tolerated. The empty restaurant booth he'd been told to wait at was dimly lit, tucked away from prying eyes. His fingers tapped nervously against the polished wood, every second dragging like an eternity. He tried to steady his breathing, but his chest betrayed him, tightening with every thought.
He told himself he had prepared for this. That even though Rapture's summons had rattled him to the core, he could stand his ground. He had built a life, carved a new path, buried his ties deep enough that no one could dig them up. But when the door creaked open, and the tall shadow entered, all of that confidence withered in a heartbeat.
Drex Blackwood.
