Page 60 of Controlled Drift
Marcus sat cuffed to it, wrists bound behind the metal backrest, ankles shackled to the floor.His face was bruised, one eye already swelling shut, dried blood streaking from his hairline down his temple.But his spine was straight.His chin was up.When his eyes found Ethan, they didn’t beg.
They burned.
Gregory Rhodes stood behind the desk, immaculate in a tailored suit that hadn’t seen a wrinkle or a drop of sweat.His silver hair was perfectly in place, his hands resting lightly on the polished wood like this was a board meeting instead of a killing floor.
“Well,” Gregory said mildly, as if they’d arrived a few minutes late for dinner.“You brought friends.”
Ethan felt Niko shift beside him, felt the violence coil tight in his presence like a storm ready to break.Ethan lifted a hand slightly—not a command, just a touch of restraint.
“Let him go,” Ethan said, his voice steady despite the pounding in his ears.“This is between you and me.”
Gregory’s smile deepened.“Everything has always been between you and me.”He tilted his head, eyes flicking briefly to Marcus.“He’s simply insurance.”
Marcus laughed then.A sharp, broken sound that cut through the room.
“Fuck you,” Marcus said hoarsely.“You don’t own him anymore.”
Gregory’s expression hardened.“You should be quiet, boy.”
“No,” Marcus shot back, defiance blazing through the fear.“I watched you hide behind money and men my whole life.You don’t scare me.”
Ethan’s chest tightened painfully.He took a step forward, deliberately placing himself deeper into Gregory’s line of sight.
“Look at me,” Ethan said.“Not him.”
Gregory’s gaze snapped back to Ethan, eyes glittering.“Still trying to protect everyone,” he sneered.“You always did have a weakness for other people.”
“I learned it from you,” Ethan replied.“I just chose to stop pretending it was strength.”
Gregory laughed, sharp and humorless.“You think you’ve won?You dismantle a few routes, freeze a few accounts, and suddenly you’re a savior?”
Ethan shook his head slowly.“No.I think you’re done.”
The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space.
Pain tore through Ethan’s shoulder, explosive and white-hot, the force spinning him half a step sideways.His breath punched out of him as blood soaked instantly through his sleeve.
Niko snarled, weapon snapping up—
“No!”Ethan shouted, the word raw and commanding.“Don’t!”
The room froze again, tighter than before, like the air itself was screaming.
Ethan forced himself upright, jaw clenched against the pain.He rolled his shoulder slightly, feeling the damage—bad, but not fatal.Manageable.
Gregory lowered the gun, satisfaction flickering across his face.“You always did need a reminder of your place.”
Ethan met his gaze calmly.“You missed.”
Gregory’s smile faltered.
Ethan felt the shift ripple through the room—the subtle tightening of posture, the recalibration of angles.Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement.
Rangi, positioned just inside the doorway, adjusted his stance by inches, weight rolling forward, attention locked on the men holding guns on Marcus.
Alexios mirrored him on the opposite side, drifting wider, his shoulders angling just enough to clear a clean line.
Rangi met Ethan’s eyes for half a heartbeat.
