Chapter 52 The Mercenary and the Ghost
The bells above the cafe door hadn't stopped chiming since the breakfast rush began, but the sound felt like a hammer against my skull. My hands moved on autopilot—grinding beans, tamping espresso, steaming milk—while my mind replayed the quiet, lethal conversation I’d had with my father this morning.
"They arrived while you were sleeping, Mila," I told Eliza, my voice barely audible over the hiss of the steam wand. "Two boxes from Bergdorf’s. Navy wool coats with velvet collars for the girls. Beautiful. Expensive. My father didn't even have the grace to look ashamed. He just patted the boxes and told me how lucky we were to have 'friends' like the Salvatores."
Eliza paused while wiping down the pastry case, her expression hardening into something protective and fierce. "He’s not even hiding it anymore, is he? Nate isn't just paying bills; he’s outfitting your sisters like they’re part of his estate."
"I feel like I’m breathing in smoke," I whispered, reaching for a stack of paper cups. "The more I try to clear the air, the more I choke on the things I owe him."
The bell chimed again, but this time, the air in the room shifted. It wasn't the usual smell of damp wool and wet pavement that blew in from the street; it was the scent of expensive jasmine. Scarlett Tate walked in, looking effortlessly polished in a cream-colored trench coat. Unlike the other Alverstone girls who treated the cafe like a zoo exhibit, Scarlett usually had a kind, if somewhat backhanded, word for me. I considered her a friend—or at least, the closest thing I had to one in that world—even if I kept her at arm’s length.
She didn't head for the counter. Instead, she leaned against the pick-up station, beckoning me over. "Mila, babe. You look like you haven't slept since the midterms."
"It’s been a long week, Scarlett," I said, trying to force a smile.
"I’m sure. I saw the photos from the gallery. You and Theodore looked... cozy," she said, her eyes searching mine. She lowered her voice, leaning in closer. "Look, I’m telling you this because I actually like you, okay? Be careful with Nate. He has a history of these 'obsessions.' He finds someone who doesn't fit his world—a puzzle he can't solve—and he pursues them until he has them figured out. Once he understands the variable, the fascination usually just... evaporates. I’d hate to see you get caught in the middle of a Salvatore research project."
I stared at her, her words echoing the same fear I’d been nursing in the dark. Was that all I was? A variable to be solved? Scarlett seemed genuinely concerned, though her eyes kept darting toward the window. I followed her gaze and saw Nate’s SUV idling at the curb. Through the tinted glass, I could just barely make out his silhouette. He wasn't looking at the menu or his phone. He was watching us. Specifically, he was watching me.
Scarlett seemed to register Nate’s unwavering focus. A strange look crossed her face—not anger, but a sharp, calculated realization. She straightened her coat, her posture shifting into something more formal. I didn't think much of it; Scarlett was always adjusting herself to her surroundings.
Just then, Gavin Hollis walked through the door.
He looked like a man who was losing a fight with his own shadow. His hair was messy, and his usual easy-going charm was replaced by a sharp, restless energy. He caught Eliza’s eye for a split second, and I saw the way his breath hitched. For a moment, it looked like he might actually walk over to her, but then his face went blank, a mask of cold indifference slamming down.
"Gavin!" Scarlett chirped, her tone shifting into something bright and magnetic. She moved toward him, her hand landing on his arm with practiced ease. "Perfect timing. I was just telling Mila we need a night out. The 'inner circle' has been way too quiet lately. Drinks tonight?"
Gavin stiffened, his eyes darting to Eliza, who was suddenly very busy scrubbing a spot on the counter that was already clean. I watched as Gavin’s jaw tightened. He looked terrified, though I couldn't imagine why. He had everything—money, status, and the girl he clearly liked standing right in front of him.
"Yeah," Gavin said, his voice loud enough to carry across the quiet cafe. "Drinks sound great, Scarlett. I’m tired of all the drama. I need something... uncomplicated for once."
He put his arm around Scarlett, pulling her into his side. It was a performance, a clumsy, jagged attempt to use Scarlett as a shield. I saw Eliza flinch, her shoulders hunching as if she’d been struck. She dropped the rag and disappeared into the back room without a word.
Gavin watched her go, his expression crumbling the moment her back was turned. He looked physically ill, his hand gripping the back of Scarlett’s coat so hard his knuckles were white. I didn't understand what was happening between them. One week they were clicking so well, and the next, he was treating her like a stranger while using Scarlett to drive the point home.
"Two lattes," Gavin said, his voice flat as he finally looked at me, though his eyes were hollow. "To go. Make them quick."
I prepared the drinks in a daze. Scarlett stood by his side, chatting about a party at the country club, acting as if she didn't notice the silent war happening in the room. I handed Gavin the cups, but he wouldn't meet my gaze. He and Scarlett walked out together—a perfect, golden couple on the surface—leaving the smell of expensive perfume and sharp, unexplained regret lingering in the steam of the cafe.
Through the window, I saw them walk past Nate’s car. Nate didn't even glance at Gavin or Scarlett. His eyes remained fixed on the door of the cafe, waiting for me to emerge.
"He’s gone," I whispered as Eliza stepped back out from the kitchen, her eyes red-rimmed.
"I don't understand, Mila," Eliza said, her voice shaking as she picked up a stray spoon. "We were fine. He was... he was so different when it was just us. And now he’s with Scarlett? Why would he do that?"
"I don't know, Liz," I said, reaching over the counter to squeeze her hand. "None of them make any sense."
I looked out the window again. Nate was still there, a silent sentinel in the dark. I realized then that while Gavin was running away from something he couldn't name, Nate was standing his ground, waiting to collect on a debt I hadn't even finished spending.