Chapter 348: Convergence
8:41 PM — Perez Residence, The Spires
Hector stood in front of the massive bay window of his office, a half-empty glass of scotch in his right hand. The ice cube had melted long ago, but the liquid was only half empty.
The eternal twilight of the Spires stretched out before him, as if time itself had stopped breathing up here, just for him.
His phone was on the coffee table next to his armchair, the screen still glowing from the last message he had reread twice.
He knew everything. Every single step. Every move. Monique had given him a full report an hour earlier, Jinzo was on his way, hyped out of his mind as usual; Saya was playing her part beautifully like a well-trained puppet; and Nash was about to walk right into a trap that had been crafted with almost artistic precision.
He slowly swirled the glass between his fingers, watching the amber liquid cling to the glass before sliding back down.
"What will you do when that shield of yours shatters, my little pet?" he murmured, a thin, smug smile creeping onto his face.
He brought the glass to his lips, savoring a victory he believed was already his.
8:44 PM — Monique’s Vehicle
A black Bugatti tore down the avenue leading toward the Spires, the driver sitting stiff as a board behind the wheel, while Jinzo and Monique were settled onto the cream leather seats in the back.
"Harlan," Monique said into her phone, her voice light, almost melodic, while a manicured fingernail tapped absentmindedly against the window. "Confirm that everyone is on the move."
"Everyone’s on the move," Harlan’s voice crackled from the other end, a little too tense to sound entirely natural. "Rei and Aiko are with me. What about Nash? Is he with you?" he asked, playing his scripted part.
"Spot on," Monique said with a satisfied smile. "Right next to me, sitting nice and quiet."
Beside her, Jinzo snickered into his sleeve, finding the whole setup hilarious, his knee bouncing restlessly against the car door.
Monique hung up, slipping the phone into her bag on her lap before turning her attention back to her reflection in the tinted window, fixing a stray lock of hair out of habit.
"How much longer?" Jinzo asked nervously, his fingers tapping against his thigh.
"Patience," Monique said without even looking at him. "It’s going to be a long night if you’re already squirming like a kid on Christmas morning."
He went quiet, but his knee kept bouncing, incapable of staying still for more than ten seconds.
8:47 PM — Harlan’s Vehicle
Harlan hung up, tossing the phone onto the dashboard a bit too roughly, his sweaty palms sliding slightly against the steering wheel. He discreetly wiped one hand against his pants.
"Nash is with her, huh?" Rei said sarcastically from the back seat as she crossed her arms.
"She had to say something," Harlan muttered, his eyes glued to the road. "Just focus on your part."
"You’re the one who needs to focus," Rei shot back. "You’re driving like you’ve got a gun pressed to the back of your neck. It’s way too early for that."
"Little bitch..." Harlan groaned.
Beside Rei, Aiko said nothing. Her eyes were fixed on the lights flashing past the window, her hands clenched on her lap.
Rei glanced over at her, noticing the barely visible trembling of her fingers. She slid her hand into Aiko’s.
"It’s going to be fine," she whispered.
Aiko simply nodded, unable to find her words, but she squeezed Rei’s hand a little tighter, as if to make sure she was actually there.
8:49 PM — Nash’s Porsche
This was the first time Saya had ever been inside a car like this. The leather seats were soft, luxurious beneath her fingertips, with no signs of wear, and the cabin was dead silent despite their speed. It smelled good, too, a clean, almost brand-new scent, despite everything this car had seen over the last few months, noticeably that time Nash and Victoria recreated inside the condition of a womb after a partying too much.
Saya caught herself running her fingers along the dashboard, touching the smooth wood trim, almost in disbelief.
"And you’re the one driving," she murmured, sounding skeptical as she watched Nash effortlessly weave through traffic. "I figured you’d have, like... a driver or something."
"I prefer handling my own shit," Nash said, his eyes never leaving the road.
Saya turned slightly toward him, her fingers tapping nervously on her knees. She kept sneaking furtive glances in his direction every few seconds, as if she feared he might vanish if she looked away for too long.
"It’s insane," she kept going, unable to handle the silence, as she wrung her hands together. "I mean, not even a year ago, you were grinding in the streets with the rest of us, and now—" she gestured vaguely around the cabin, almost theatrically, "you’ve got cars like this, villas, everyone eating out of your hand."
Nash didn’t answer, keeping his eyes locked on the road, his jaw slightly clenched.
Saya pushed on, almost as if the silence itself made her uncomfortable, her hands twisting over one another.
"You know," she said with a bitter laugh, leaning slightly toward him, "half the time, Roam couldn’t even afford a damn bus ticket. For real, that asshole used to bum cigarette money off the guys on the team and he didn’t even have the decency to—"
"Saya," Nash cut her off.
She froze instantly.
"W-what?"
"I need silence to think," he said, without looking away from the road.
The nervous excitement that had driven her seconds before died out instantly, like a candle blown out. She shrank back into her seat, her shoulders pulling inward, suddenly feeling incredibly small.
"Yeah... Sorry," she murmured, her voice dropping to a tiny whisper as her fingers tightened around her pants.
She stayed quiet for a while, settling for watching him discreetly out of the corner of her eye, unable to completely pull her gaze away from him, from his perfect jawline, from his steady hands on the wheel.
The longer she looked at him, the more something stirred inside her, a messy mix of admiration and confusion.
He’s so different, she thought.
In spite of herself, she thought back to all the times she had to raise her voice, cry, threaten, or seduce just to see idiots like Roam at her feet. And here, a single look from Nash had been enough to shut her up completely, without him ever needing to raise his voice once.
She turned her eyes back toward the window, feeling her cheeks burn slightly, unable to tell if it was shame or something much more complicated.
8:52 PM — Nash’s Villa
The living room of the villa was bathed in a dim blue glow, the monitors throwing their reflections onto the tense faces gathered around.
Victoria and Dahlia sat side by side in front of the primary screens, while Zayela stood directly behind them, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Hina and Miko waited on the couch, uncharacteristically quiet for once, their hands clasped together on their laps. The rest of the girls were scattered around the room, everyone watching the various feeds.
"The signal is stable. It’s all up to them now," Dahlia said, nervously adjusting a slider on the keyboard in front of her, though she didn’t really need to.
Victoria didn’t answer right away, her eyes scanning rapidly between the feeds, Nash at the wheel, his profile illuminated intermittently by passing lights; Aiko sitting silently in Harlan’s car; and the building slowly approaching on the horizon on every screen simultaneously.
"How much longer?" she finally asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
"A few minutes," Dahlia said.
Zayela crossed her arms a little tighter, trying to hide the slight trembling in her hands.
"Please..." she whispered, her eyes glued to the screen tracking Nash. "Be careful."
At exactly 8:58 PM, at last, the building finally loomed ahead, greeting each group as they converged on it from different directions.
It was a massage parlor, completely unknown to the general public. Its dark stone facade was barely lit by a few golden wall sconces, with an elegant, understated plaque simply reading "The Jade Garden."
Nash parked the car a short distance away and cut the engine, plunging the cabin back into instant silence.
"Alright," Saya said, turning toward him while nervously fixing the loose strands of her ponytail. "Let’s do a quick rundown. You head to the waiting room. I’m hitting the locker rooms to get ready. Professionally speaking, that is. But the desk clerk is going to guide you to Rei, not me."
Nash nodded, listening intently. Then, as he mentally replayed how the night was supposed to go, an idea forced its way to the front of his mind, as clear as the blue system lines still fresh in his memory.
Saya didn’t really play a big rôle from this moment on, maybe...
"Listen," he started, his voice dropping lower. "Once we’re inside, find an excuse, any excuse, and get the hell out. Say you don’t want any part of my shits anymore, make up whatever you want. Just get out of this building."
Saya froze for a few seconds, her hand still raised halfway to the back of her neck. She had expected a lot of things tonight. Not this.
"What? No," she said, shaking her head as her voice pitched up. "No, what are you... I can’t just... I’m supposed to be here to help you guys! I want to make things right, I—"
"Saya," Nash cut her off, firmer this time, though he didn’t raise his voice. "This isn’t a negotiation. You’re leaving."
"But why?!" Her voice cracked slightly, getting a little bit angrier. She straightened up in her seat, almost ready to push back, to raise her voice the way she always used to, that old habit of forcing things until she got what she wanted. "I can be useful, I can—"
"Because I’d rather know you’re nowhere near this place." He didn’t yell. He didn’t even need to elevate his tone. He just turned his head toward her, burying his calm but completely unyielding gaze into hers, and something about that absolute tranquility snapped her resistance.
She opened her mouth to protest again, almost out of reflex, before realizing with a strange mix of frustration that she simply didn’t have the strength to keep pushing. This wasn’t like it was with Roam, where screaming louder always won the argument. It wasn’t like with Vargas either, where getting down was a pass for everything.
This was something else. A simple, no, a real authority that left absolutely no room for negotiation, yet felt nothing like violence.
Silence settled over the cabin. Saya felt something tighten painfully in her chest, not anger, but something much worse.
The crushing weight of thinking, in that exact moment, that Nash was trying to protect her from a danger she had largely helped create. That after everything she had done to him in the past, he was still right here, trying to keep her safe without even raising his voice to force her hand.
Please... I might never get another chance to make it up to him after this, she thought, tears stinging her eyes, though she refused to let them fall.
"Fine," she finally whispered, her voice broken as her shoulders slumped completely.
Nash popped his door open, stepping out into the cool evening air without another word.
"Lead me to the entrance," he said, slamming the door behind him. "I’m supposed to be a newbie, remember."
Saya nodded, quickly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand before getting out herself, forcing her face back into a mask of royal bitch.
She followed him a step or two behind, watching the back of his neck, his broad shoulders, and that steady stride that showed absolutely nothing close to worry.
If I had stayed, she thought, a feeling of bitter regret twisting her stomach. If I had made the right choices a long time ago... maybe I’d be the one he’s protecting like this every single day, instead of leaving me to rot with Roam.
In front of them, the doors of The Jade Garden slid open smoothly, casting a warm, golden glow onto the pavement, swallowing them both.