Page 54 of The Devil's Thorn

I stand perfectly still.

Rafael doesn’t say anything for a long time.

Then, quietly, “If anyone touches that route again without telling me, I’ll burn every inch of it and salt the ground.”

The man nods quickly. “Understood.”

Conversation shifts.

Another man starts talking about a recent fallout in Prague. Someone flipped. Someone died. Another name gone from the books.

But I’m not listening anymore. Because my thoughts are already spinning.

Paris. It means something.

And I need to knowwhat.

My fingers twitch at my sides. I shift my weight just slightly. No one notices.

I glance to my left, eyes skimming the room like I’m checking for a server or listening to music in the background.

Then I move. Not fast. Not suddenly.

Just one step at a time, like I’ve done a hundred times before.

I walk toward the hallway that leads to the private bathrooms. I keep my face composed. My pace even.

But my heart isnotsteady.

I feel it pounding in my chest, a beat too loud, too fast, as I slip through the last set of double doors and out of the casino.

The noise dulls behind me instantly. I scan the hallway once—empty. Then again—faster.

And then I turn right and walk fast, heels quiet now, almost silent as I head down the narrow passage that leads toward the back stairwell.

TowardAsh.

The corridor narrows as I turn the last corner. Muted light hums above me, flickering faintly against the pale yellow walls. I know this hallway—it leads to an emergency stairwell and a locked exit only accessible to security staff.

And him.

Ash leans casually against the wall near the stairwell door, dressed like the others in black-on-black security gear, a radio clipped to his shoulder, his eyes scanning every shadow.

He looks up the second he hears me.

And then hereallysees me.

His body tenses.

I move fast, but not frantic. I close the distance in four long strides, stopping just a foot in front of him.

“Ash,” I whisper, voice low but sharp. “We have a problem.”

His brows knit immediately. “What happened?”

“I overheard them. Paris. It came up again.” I keep my tone clipped, but inside, my pulse is racing. “One of the men said someone from the Italian side’s asking questions.”

Ash’s jaw locks. “That confirms it then. Same thing Nikolai said last week.”