Chapter 95

Dario

Gavin and I had parted from our last meeting on uncertain terms—he unwilling to give me what I wanted and me unwilling to meet his demands.

And yet, here we were.

Back in the same cafe. Sipping our coffees while we stared each other down. Each lost in our own swirling thoughts, assumptions. Fears, maybe. Or judgments.

The tension between us was so palpable, I might have cut it with a knife.