Layla
“Is that a threat?” I peeled the phone from my cheek to switch it to speaker. Set it atop Aldo’s desk so both he and Ethan could hear it. I knew I didn’t need to tell either one to be quiet.
“Not at all,” said the speaker, and I thought I could just track the faintest traces of some kind of accent in the clipped, careful words. “It’s an offer.”
Across the desk, Aldo was frantically typing into his own phone. No doubt trying to get Carlo to trace the number or find out something on the caller.
Beside me, Ethan watched with a grim expression.
“I don’t make deals with strangers,” I said. “And I don’t do cryptic bullshit riddles. Truth, or I hang up.”
“Are you ready to know the truth?” the caller asked, still too calm. No inflection—their very voice a mask. I couldn't even properly
