Page 32 of Blackwood

He said no guests. Ellie heardlet’s make it chic.

She doesn’t get it. Not fully. She knows the broad strokes. We came from a bad foster home, we got out, and that Zeke does something in tech with Nate and makes a shit ton of money. She’s convinced Tex is in finance, like her dad.

“I mean, he’s got the whole mysterious ex-military hedge fund thing going,”she whispered once like it was a conspiracy theory.“Silent. Intense. Probably manages billion-dollar portfolios and doesn’t believe in therapy.”

I didn’t correct her.

She thinks this place is just a moody penthouse filled with high-functioning introverts and one guarded girl who refuses to talk about the time before freshman year. Sometimes she jokes that it’s like some dark, minimalist Upper East Side reboot ofNew Girl.

“Three broody hot guys, one dancing baddie, and a killer view? Honestly, Netflix should call,”she said once, curling up on the couch.

But she doesn’t understand why Zeke always positions himself facing the door. Why Tex scans the room like he’s cataloging threats. Why Nate doesn’t blink for long stretches of time. Or why none of them ever talk about what they do.

She’s never seen the weapons. Never stumbled onto a mission file or caught sight of anything suspicious. They’re careful around her. Always have been.

She just wanted tonight to be beautiful. For me. And it was.

“Okay,” Ellie says, swaying toward me with a soft smile and slightly smudged lipstick. “Everyone’s out, I managed to clean up without breaking a nail. No one cried or got arrested, so I’m feeling pretty good about myself.”

I huff a quiet laugh.

“You good?” she says squeezing my arms gently.

“I’m good.”

“You sure? You get quiet like this when something’s eating at you.”

“Just tired,” I say, not even a lie.

“Text me tomorrow,” she replies. “Or tonight. If you go out. I want updates. Full detail. And outfit pics.”

“Promise.”

She pulls me into a long hug, warm and tight. “I love you, Bella,” she whispers.

“I love you too.”

Zeke waits until the elevator doors close behind her before moving. “Finally,” he mutters, sweeping through the room and unlocking the wine cabinet armory. “What part ofno civilianswas unclear?”

Tex shrugs, “Could’ve been worse. No one tripped an alarm, nobody died, and Ellie didn’t find the gun safe.”

“Yet.”

Mr. Acronym doesn’t say a word. He just stands, buttons his suit jacket, and nods once like we just flipped a switch from family to mission.

Zeke turns to me, voice low and even. “Go change, it’s time to go.”

♥♥♥

12:30 AM

Undisclosed Warehouse

Brooklyn, New York

The chill punches the breath from my lungs the second I step out of the SUV. Gone is the warmth, the glitter, the soft pulse of birthday music. Now it’s concrete. Steel. Shadows.

Tex leads us through the side door of the warehouse, silent as a ghost. Fluorescent lights buzz above, casting long, sharp shadows on the floor. We turn a corner and walk down a long corridor. At the end of it, Tex opens a metal door into what looks like an old office.