Page 129 of Legacy

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I stack it all on her dresser.

And walk out.

Still no words.

Day 3

She’s been wearing headphones while she goes over the papers overflowing the coffee table.

Blocking out the world.

Probably blocking out me.

So I buy her a new pair—top of the line, softer on the ears, better sound isolation. Not because I want her to shut me out more efficiently.But because if she’s going to retreat from the world, I want her to be comfortable.

I leave them on the kitchen counter with a note.

‘For the world. Not for me.’

She doesn’t thank me. Doesn’t acknowledge it.

I don’t even see her take them, they are there in the morning and gone by the time I come out of my office in the afternoon.

She uses them though.

I hear the soft hum of music through them when I pass her door.

Day 4

I can’t take it.

I give in.

I text her.

‘I don’t need an open door invitation. Just crack a window. Let me in, even if it’s just for a breath.’

She reads it.

The“read”status taunts me.

There’s no reply.

Hours later, sprawled on the couch I’m staring at her contact again, debating sending another message I’ll regret, when my phone buzzes with another name.

Maksim.

‘Need you. Stakeout tonight. Armenians might be sitting on the Brock warehouse. Could be nothing. Could be worth your time. Bring your men.’

I don’t hesitate.

I call Gio. Nico. Tell them to get ready.

Adriana walks past me in the hall as I finish the call.

A ghost in my home.

She doesn’t glance my way.

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