Sage
The bar smelled like old smoke and spilled dreams, the kind of place where secrets go to die slow.
Alex leaned in, voice dropping so low it barely cleared the space between us. “The thing is, Darrius told me someone else was there that night. Someone who saw the whole thing when your… when your father sent that man to kill Eve’s parents.”
He stopped, sighing softly, like the words themselves hurt coming out. “They recorded it. Everything. Every moment. Every word.”
My throat closed. I swallowed anyway, the whiskey tasting like ash now. My eyes kept jumping—bar lights, bottle labels, Alex’s knuckles white around his drink—anywhere but his face.
“Did he tell you who?” The question scraped out rougher than I meant.
Alex nodded once. “Yeah. A woman. Name’s Clarrisa.”
The name hit l
