Page 70 of Requiem
His brow lifts slightly, amused.
“Jude was just asking about what you guys are working on,” I say, gesturing lightly. “I sort of explained, but I don't think I'm doing a good job.”
Rafe hums once, stepping further into the room, hands sliding into his pockets as he considers how to answer. “In simple terms,” he begins, his tone smooth but precise, “we’re trying to understand the architecture before we touch anything important. Alexei didn’t just build a system; he built a trap, it seems.”
Jude’s eyes flick up briefly, then away again.
“There are layered triggers,” Rafe continues. “Some tied to access attempts, others tied to behavioral patterns. Adela found what appears to be a secondary encryption loop nested within the first. Every time we get close to somethingmeaningful, it reroutes us.” A faint smirk touches his mouth. “Clever and irritating, yes. But not unbreakable.”
Kieran shifts against the doorframe. “They’re both looking at you like you’ve got three heads, boss.”
I roll my eyes. “When it comes to this code shit, we need things in layman’s terms.”
Jude’s head snaps toward me.
Rafe smirks. “Your girl swears now.”
Jude’s lips quirk up for a moment before returning to the conversation at hand. “You’re trying to trick a psychopath whobuiltthe system.”
Rafe’s smile sharpens just a fraction. “Yes.”
Silence settles for a second. And I realize, distantly, that I’m staring. Because sitting there, in the low light of the room, they look dangerous and beautiful in a way that feels unfair given the circumstances. Rafe is all control and confidence, like he’s already three steps ahead of a game no one else fully understands. And Jude, the love of my life, damaged, but with a stronger heart than anyone I’ve ever known.
Two of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen.
My attention snaps back to Jude. “They’ll figure it out,” I say, softer now. “We just have to give them time.”
Jude doesn’t respond right away. But he doesn’t dismiss it, either.
“Do you think Alexei will release another video of you?” Rafe asks, his arms crossing.
Jude leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “Probably. And I can tell you right now that none of them are fucking good, man.”
Chapter nineteen
EMMA EASTON
We’re all gathered around the dining table for once, not hunched over laptops or pacing the living room or staring at monitors. Rafe insisted on a break, and somehow, he turned that into a full spread with meats, cheeses, fresh fruit, and crackers. It’s nice, honestly. Feels like he's hosting a get together instead of hiding us in a remote cabin while a psychopath hunts us.
Adela is tucked into his side at the counter, smiling at something he murmurs to her. Nico and Kieran are still half-working even now, plates in front of them, but their attention is split. It’s the closest thing to normal we’ve had in about a week.
I hover near the table for a moment before drifting toward the couch, where Adriana and Micah are sitting. She’s curled into the corner, a plate balanced on her knee, while Micah leans forward with his elbows on his thighs, talking low enough that it doesn’t carry.
I catch the tail end of whatever he’s saying as I approach, and it's almost…gentle. Which is weird for him when it comes toher.
Adriana glances up when she notices me, offering a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I echo, settling beside them. My fingers curl loosely around the edge of my plate, but I don’t eat. I haven’t really been hungry lately. For a second, I just listen to them finish their discussion about a time when Jude nearly punched Nolan in the face, and she had to step in to prevent an epic punishment.
Then I look at her. “What are you going to do after this?” I blurt.
Micah’s head tilts, like he wasn’t expecting that direction, but Adriana…she stills. It’s subtle, but enough that her gaze drops. “I don’t know,” she says after a moment, her voice quieter now. She shifts her plate, like she needs something to do with her hands. “I haven’t really thought that far ahead.”
There’s something in the way she says it that doesn’t sit right. It almost sounds like she already has an answer she doesn’t want to say out loud.
I glance at Micah, catching the shift in his expression. It’s quick, but it’s there. He’s not choosing to comment on what she said. My brows pull together. I can’t let that slide. “What do you—”
My phone rings, and it’s loud. Every conversation cuts off mid-sentence, every person glancing our way. My stomach drops before I even look at the screen, because for some reason, I already know. With a gulp, I turn the phone over in my hand.
