Chapter 52 #2
Nicholas swallowed hard, but the hesitation was brief. Whatever flicker had sparked behind his eyes was gone in an instant. He looked away—walls slamming back into place, expression flattening, spine stiffening.
"I'm not ending up like you," he said flatly.
And just like that—it was over.
Katherine felt it—like something falling out of her chest.
Not just failure. Loss.
Because for a second, she had him. For a second, she thought maybe—
But it was gone. Ben said nothing beside her. His face was stone. Unmoving.
Then—
"So," Julian drawled, eyes glinting with something that made her stomach tighten. "You gonna talk? Or do we have to make this interesting?"
The man flinched. Only slightly. But she caught it—the subtle tell of someone who recognized a threat when he heard one. She watched his fingers tighten around the edge of the table, shoulders locking as if he were physically holding in a scream.
Ben leaned in then, his voice calm, controlled, deadly soft in a way that made Katherine shiver despite herself.
She caught the slight turn of his head, the way his eyes flicked to Julian—still leaned against her chair, infuriatingly casual.
Ben exhaled slowly, the breath controlled, almost weary, before his gaze slid back to the witness.
"This is your last chance," he said, each word measured and precise.
Silence fell over the room. The man didn’t speak, didn’t shift, but beneath the table, his fingers pinched the back of his opposite hand—hard.
Over and over. Katherine saw the redness blooming across his knuckles, the desperate need to ground himself in something physical.
He was teetering on the edge of a decision, and she could feel it—the crack just beneath the surface of his composure.
Julian clicked his tongue, tilting his head as if disappointed in a stubborn pet. "Alright then," he said. "Let me ask a different question." He turned to Ben, his tone casual, thoughtful.
"Want me to step in?"
Katherine's stomach clenched. Something in the way Julian said it—so breezy, so light—made the hair on her neck stand on end.
"Step in?" she asked, brow furrowed, a cold dread spreading through her chest. "What does that mean?"
Julian glanced at her, all teeth and calm menace. "Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart."
And just like that—
It clicked. Her breath hitched. Her gaze jumped between Ben and Julian, searching for confirmation of what she suddenly understood.
"You're not seriously considering—"
Julian chuckled, low and amused, though the sound held an edge sharp enough to bleed.
"Don't worry," he said, glancing at Katherine with a casual shrug. "It was just a theoretical solution. If you ever decide you'd like him a little more... cooperative, well—I'm simply saying I can be useful in ways that go beyond paperwork."
Then he gestured to the witness. "But let's be real. This one?" He snorted. "He's already dead inside. Doesn't even need persuasion. Shame, though. I do love a good project." The man stiffened.
Katherine watched the man's breathing accelerate, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow movements. For the first time all night, genuine fear flooded his eyes—pupils dilating, gaze darting between them.
She didn't know what horrors he imagined Julian capable of. She only knew whatever he was picturing probably wasn't enough. The reality of Julian Sinclair was likely far worse than any nightmare this man could conjure.
Ben remained silent beside her, his expression unreadable. Only the rigid set of his posture betrayed any reaction at all. Then—
"No," he said, voice low and final. "He's not worth the effort."
Julian sighed dramatically, shoulders slumping with exaggerated disappointment. He reached for Katherine’s glass instead, lifting it with a casual ease before tossing back the last of her drink in one smooth motion, the ice clinking against the sides as he drank without asking.
"Shame," he muttered, setting the empty tumbler down with a soft thud. "Would've been fun."
Katherine exhaled slowly, the knot in her chest loosening just slightly. The air still felt thick in her throat, but she forced herself to breathe. She leaned in close enough that the man couldn't look away, close enough that he had no choice but to listen to every word.
"You think Crawford's going to let you stay safe forever?" she asked, her voice soft, almost kind. "You think because you kept quiet tonight, he won't find some excuse to make you disappear anyway?"
The man swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly. Katherine lowered her voice, letting the steel edge return to her tone.
"We gave you a choice."
His fingers twitched against the table. But he didn't speak. And that?
That was his answer.
Ben stood from the table, the movement smooth but final. "We're done here."
Katherine followed without hesitation, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.
Julian trailed behind them, humming something low and dissonant under his breath like a lullaby from hell. They left the man behind. Alone. In the dark. Surrounded by his silence.
And drowning in fear.
The air outside hit her like a wall.
Cold. Thin. Too clean after the stink of the bar.
Kath didn’t speak. Neither did Ben. Julian peeled off first, muttering something about a call. She barely registered it.
They reached the car. Ben opened the passenger door for her, but she didn’t move. Just stood there, arms wrapped around herself, coat too thin to matter.
Her fingers were still curled into fists.
“Get in,” Ben said, low and quiet.
She obeyed.
The city blurred past as they drove. She stared out the window, watching the city lights blur across the glass like faded bruises. Ben didn’t play music. Didn’t fill the silence. The engine’s hum was the only sound between them.
She should have felt victorious. The man had cracked—nearly. One more push, maybe. But all she felt was hollow.
“You think we’re still on the right side?” she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ben didn’t answer. Just kept driving.
She closed her eyes. Leaned her head against the cool window. For the first time in weeks, she didn’t want to talk strategy. Didn’t want to plan.
She just wanted to stop feeling like this.