Silence stretched through the room after Susan's report, a physical weight that pressed on every occupant of the living room, as they all realized that they were possibly not just fighting a shadow from Gianna's past, but a leviathan that was consuming the very foundation of the country.
Zane leaned back slowly, his head resting against the couch, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, though he saw nothing but the cold things he had seen at the club—the flashing lights, the hidden doors, the rot beneath the glitter. His mind was whirring.
If at last the Black Tide was really the club men, then it was most likely that Modred wouldn't be amped to talk, not even to confess to being a partner to the death of Gianna's father.
Moreso, the Nimbus would take him in too, or the government… whichever. And as much as that would help their campaign, it would also declare war.
