Dante raised a hand, signaling for his men to stand down as a few of them shifted uneasily around the room. Whatever tension had been building seemed to settle slightly, though none of them completely relaxed. "You're right," he admitted, his tone still annoyingly calm despite the situation. "Let's get to the point."
Miguel took over, his voice as smooth and composed as ever. "We've been having... difficulties. Our shipments keep getting intercepted. No matter how we change the timing or switch locations, the Feds always seem to know exactly where we'll be."
As he spoke, my mind immediately went back to the intel we'd received before coming here. Ghost had already filled us in on most of the situation, but hearing the details directly from the source only confirmed what we'd suspected. Someone was feeding information to the authorities. There was a rat somewhere inside their organization, and from the looks of things, their entire operation was slowly crumbling from the inside out.
"Has the thought of a mole crossed your mind?" Slade asked, his voice remaining neutral, almost conversational. His eyes, however, told a different story as they moved slowly across the room, studying each face for the slightest twitch or change in expression.
Dante gave a slow nod. "Of course. But my inner circle is tight. I trust every single one of them with my life." There was genuine conviction in his voice, the kind that suggested he wasn't simply trying to reassure us. As far as Dante was concerned, betrayal from within wasn't a possibility worth entertaining.
I scoffed and leaned back in my chair, letting my eyes wander toward the tattooed bodyguard standing silently behind them. The guy hadn't said a word since we'd entered the room. He had the thick build of someone who'd spent more time breaking bones than shaking hands, and there was something about the way he stood that made it obvious he wasn't just there for decoration. "How about that guy?" I asked, pointing toward him. "He looks suspicious as hell."
Dante immediately laughed, the sound deep and genuine as he glanced over his shoulder at the man. "Pedro? No. We did time together. He's like a brother to me."
Before I could come up with another response, the door opened and a young woman stepped inside carrying a silver tray. She moved with the confidence of someone accustomed to serving important people, setting a bottle of whiskey and four glasses down on the table without saying a word. Dante, ever the gracious host, reached for a cigar and offered one to Slade as though we were old friends rather than armed men sitting across from each other during a criminal negotiation.
Normally, I'd have refused. Smoking and drinking in the middle of an operation wasn't exactly what I'd call professional, especially when we had no idea what these people might try to pull. But after the day we'd had, I figured I'd earned a little something.
I accepted the cigar, poured myself a drink, and watched as the woman made her way around the table, lighting each cigar one after another. Within moments, a thin haze of smoke drifted through the room, mixing with the sharp scent of whiskey and giving the whole meeting an almost casual atmosphere that didn't quite fit the circumstances.
Slade held off on drinking, keeping his glass untouched in front of him. I followed his lead, taking a moment to examine the amber liquid before setting it down. My eyes lingered on the ice floating inside the glass, quietly checking for anything that looked out of place. Call me paranoid, but after everything we'd been through, I wasn't about to let a little hospitality get me killed.
Dante, meanwhile, didn't seem to have any such concerns. He took a long sip of his whiskey, leaned back in his chair, and let out a slow breath before continuing. "We did have someone inside the FBI," he said. "But he's gone rogue. Refuses to take our money anymore. Now, he's the one helping them hit our operations."
I leaned forward, resting my elbows against the table as I placed my drink back down. "That's great and all, but I've got one question." I locked eyes with Miguel, watching him carefully as I gestured toward Dante. "Why did we go through all that trouble to meet this guy when you've been sitting here with us the whole time, Miguel?"
I let the silence hang for a second before delivering the real question as a follow-up.
"You're the real boss, aren't you?"
The room went completely still from that.
Dante's expression changed first, his eyes widening as he looked between me and Miguel. Pedro reacted a heartbeat later, his posture immediately stiffening as his hand instinctively moved closer to his weapon. Even the men stationed around the room seemed to freeze, their attention suddenly fixed on Miguel.
Miguel, however, didn't flinch.
He simply stared at me for a moment before the corner of his mouth slowly curled into a smirk. Then, with the same effortless calm he'd maintained throughout the entire meeting, he lifted his glass toward me in a silent toast.
Slade sighed and rubbed his temples, looking at me like I had just asked the most obvious question in the world. "You're just figuring that out now?" he muttered, giving me an unimpressed look. "You're slower than I thought."
"Huh?" I blinked, caught completely off guard by the jab.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, clearly enjoying himself. "Amateur."
"Oh, yeah?" I shot back, narrowing my eyes at him. "Then when did you figure it out?"
"Back at the restaurant," he replied with a casual shrug. "I was just waiting to see how long it would take you."
Miguel let out a laugh, setting his glass down on the table as he looked between the two of us. "You two are quite the pair. No one's ever figured it out before now."
Dante nodded in agreement, raising his glass slightly. "Ghost sent the right people for the job, that's for sure."
I couldn't help but grin as I picked up my drink again. Whatever this meeting had started as, it was definitely getting more interesting.
- - -
Dick Grayson tied the last knot of his apron behind his back and stepped away from the dinner table, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. The warm aroma of roasted vegetables, garlic bread, and freshly baked lasagna filled the cozy apartment, while the gentle flicker of candlelight painted soft shadows across the walls. He reached over and adjusted the silverware for what had to be the third time, making sure everything was perfectly aligned before finally deciding it was good enough.
"Whew, finally done," he muttered, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. There was a hint of exhaustion in his voice, but beneath it was a quiet sense of satisfaction. After spending so much time preparing everything, seeing the table finally come together made the effort feel worthwhile.
A familiar voice came from behind him. "Great, because I am starving."
Kori stepped into the dining room, her melodic voice carrying its usual playful warmth. Her fiery hair seemed to glow beneath the candlelight, making her look almost radiant against the dimly lit apartment. She walked toward the table with a smile, but before taking her seat, she leaned over and planted a quick kiss on Dick's cheek.
Dick smiled and tossed his apron over the kitchen door handle, but just as Kori was about to sit down, he gently caught her by the arm. His other hand settled around her waist, pulling her closer as his expression softened. "Wait, babe," he said quietly.
His dark blue eyes searched hers for a moment, the concern behind them becoming more apparent. "Can you check on Rachel first? She hasn't really been out of her room much lately, and I'm starting to worry about her."
Kori tilted her head, her brows drawing together slightly as she considered his words. "Isn't that just Rachel being... well, Rachel?" she asked, her tone carrying a hint of amusement. "She's always been a little introverted."
"Yeah," Dick admitted, his voice growing softer. "But it feels different this time. She's been spending way more time alone, and I don't think it's just her usual mood. She needs someone to talk to, and she's more likely to open up to you than she is to me."
A faint smile appeared on his face as he reached up and gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from Kori's face.
"Okay, okay." Kori sighed, though the smile that followed made it clear she wasn't really bothered. "You're lucky you're so cute when you worry."
Dick chuckled softly before leaning down and giving her a brief kiss on the lips. "Thanks, babe."
He released her, watching as she turned toward the hallway to check on Rachel, while he remained by the table for a moment, his earlier satisfaction slowly giving way to a subtle sense of concern.
As Kori approached Rachel's room, she slowed to a stop outside the door. Something about the silence on the other side felt strange. It wasn't simply the quiet; there was a heaviness to it that made the usually warm apartment seem a little colder. She raised her hand to knock, but hesitated for a moment, her lips pressing into a thin line.
'Come on, Kori. It's just Rachel.'
She finally rapped her knuckles gently against the door.
"Knock... knock."
"Rachel? Are you in there?" Kori called, leaning slightly toward the door. "Why don't you come downstairs for dinner? Dick worked very hard on it." She waited, expecting at least a sarcastic response, but nothing came from inside. Her brows furrowed as she knocked again, a little louder this time. "Rachel?"
Still nothing.
Kori frowned and glanced briefly down the hallway before turning back to the door. "Okay, I'm coming in," she warned, giving Rachel one last chance to answer before slowly pushing the door open.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn enough to keep most of the evening light out. Kori's heart sank when she spotted Rachel sprawled across her bed, her head hanging over the edge while her long dark hair cascaded toward the floor like a black waterfall. She looked completely drained. Her usual sharp, piercing eyes had lost their edge, staring blankly at the ceiling as though her mind were somewhere far away.
"Rachel?" Kori asked softly as she stepped farther into the room. "Are you okay?"
Rachel released a long, weary sigh, her shoulders barely moving with the effort. "Not really," she muttered, not even bothering to look up.
Kori's expression softened. She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, carefully leaning back until she was almost mirroring Rachel's upside-down position. Their heads were nearly level, making the situation look almost ridiculous despite the obvious sadness hanging over the room. "What's wrong?" she asked, keeping her voice gentle, balancing concern with just enough curiosity to encourage Rachel to talk.
Rachel remained silent for a few seconds before letting out another sigh. "Boy drama."
Kori blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Boy drama?" she repeated, her voice rising slightly. "Did he hurt you?" Her eyes began to glow faintly, and despite the playful edge in her voice, there was genuine menace beneath it. "Because if he did, just say the word. I will track him down and beat him to a bloody pulp."
"No," Rachel replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks, but it's not that."
"Then what is it?" Kori asked, her tone softening again as she waited patiently.
Rachel finally pushed herself upright and pulled her knees against her chest, wrapping her arms around them. For a moment, she stared down at the floor before finally admitting, "It's Tom."
Her expression tightened with frustration. "He's been so distant lately, and it's driving me crazy."
Kori raised an eyebrow. "Distant how?"
Rachel ran a hand through her hair, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to put her feelings into words. "He doesn't text me back as much. We barely see each other anymore, and I don't know..." She swallowed, her voice growing quieter. "I just feel like something's wrong. What if he doesn't like me anymore? What if he's... seeing someone else?"
Her voice cracked on the last words. She quickly buried her face in her hands, as though hiding from the thought might somehow make it disappear.
Kori stared at her for a moment, genuinely stunned. Then her expression softened into something between disbelief and amusement. "Rachel, for someone who's battled demons, fought monsters, and taken down intergalactic warlords, I honestly can't believe you're letting a boy make you sound so... defeated."
Rachel peeked through the gaps between her fingers, her cheeks already beginning to flush. "He's not just a boy," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's..." She trailed off, struggling to find the right words as the blush spread across her pale features.
Kori's eyes widened before a mischievous grin slowly spread across her face. "Are you blushing?" she teased, leaning closer. "Oh, you are! This is adorable." She immediately reached for her phone, already unlocking the camera. "I need a picture of this."
Rachel reacted without even looking. With a casual flick of her hand, a wave of telekinetic energy sent the phone sailing out of Kori's grasp. It landed harmlessly on the bed with a soft 'thump'.
Kori stared at her phone for a moment before looking back at Rachel, her grin only growing wider. "For you to be acting like this, he must be something pretty special."
Rachel's expression softened, and she gave a small nod. The blush on her cheeks deepened as she hugged her knees a little tighter. "He is. He's... different. I've never met anyone like him." She hesitated, her voice becoming quieter. "I don't want to meet anyone else. Just him."
Before Kori could tease her any further, Dick's voice echoed up from downstairs.
"Girls! Dinner's getting cold!"
Kori straightened and brushed her hands against her jeans before offering Rachel an encouraging smile. "Well, you heard him. Let's eat first, and tomorrow morning, you can go see him. Talk to him properly and find out what's really going on."
Rachel looked up at her, uncertainty still lingering in her eyes. "You really think I should?"
"Yes." Kori extended a hand toward her, her expression warm and reassuring. "But first, food. You'll need your strength for all the emotional chaos you're going to deal with tomorrow."
Rachel groaned and glanced toward the door. "I don't have an appetite."
Kori rolled her eyes before grabbing Rachel by the wrist and pulling her off the bed. "For a girl who can fly, you're making me do way too much heavy lifting."
Rachel stumbled to her feet, a small laugh escaping despite herself. "Fine. But don't expect me to eat much."
"I'll take what I can get," Kori replied, tugging her toward the hallway. "Now come on before Dick somehow manages to burn the lasagna while reheating it."
Rachel laughed again as Kori continued pulling her toward the stairs. The heaviness that had settled over her earlier hadn't disappeared completely, but at least it didn't feel quite as suffocating anymore. For tonight, she had someone to talk to, a warm meal waiting downstairs, and tomorrow gave her a chance to finally find out what was really going on.
Together, they headed downstairs toward the dinner table, where the warmth of the apartment, the smell of homemade food, and the familiar comfort of family were waiting for them.