My heart had pounded as I anticipated the punch that didn’t come. Silently, I debated if I would clock him back, if we’d fight in the kitchen until we were bloodied with an outpouring of repressed emotions.

“We are never a mistake. We could be the impetus for the destruction of the world and we wouldn’t be a mistake,” he insisted, giving me the most aggressive kiss I had ever received. “They made a mistake and they’ll fix it.”

It was then that I had begun to worry that Cal’s optimism had given way to delusion, but I hadn’t said a word, helping him make his batch instead.

I wanted to be wrong. I wanted so badly to be wrong, to have assumed the worst when the situation was far less sinister, but I wasn’t mad enough to believe it had been a misunderstanding, easily remedied by an explanation. The prediction I had made years prior was proving true, and though I wished I was wrong, I knew I’d been right all along.

It was awful to be correct about unsavory things, which was why my lack of doubt regarding the reason Vlad had called for me was unsettling. Not turning in a month’s money was an unforgivable offense, and while I hadn’t actually made any clams in January, I knew I was going to have to deal with my comeuppance.

I’d only been to Vlad’s home a handful of times as his meetings were typically held at his “office” on the West Side. He didn’t want a line of lackeys heading in and out of his apartment, alarming his hoity-toity Lakeshore neighbors. The good news was there was no way he was going to pop me in his place and ruin the carpets. The bad news was … everything else.

As I entered the lobby of Vlad’s building, I was smacked in the face by the wealth surrounding me. While it had always been an impressive space, the chandeliers were grander and the paintings richer when juxtaposed with the bleakness beyond its walls.

I gave the doorman my name and was waved into a gilded elevator. As the lift went up, my stomach dropped to my ass. I wanted to run in the opposite direction, but I forced my feet to walk along the marble floor of the hallway until I stood outside my boss’ door.

“Viktor,” Vlad greeted coolly as he shook my hand. “You made it.”

As if I wouldn’t. An invitation from Vlad wasn’t one that could simply be responded to with regret.