Eric walked silently through the house alongside Lucía and the real estate agent.
The man spoke with calculated enthusiasm, pointing out the modern architecture, imported finishes, integrated automation system, and the gourmet area overlooking the inner garden.
It was the kind of property that conveyed power—
Without needing to shout it.
The agent kept stealing glances at Eric, clearly curious.
"Do you work with… investments?" he asked casually.
Before Eric could respond, Lucía cut in.
"What type of thermal insulation do the windows use? And the contract includes unilateral termination with a thirty-day notice, correct?"
The agent seemed slightly frustrated at being interrupted, but returned to his technical pitch.
Eric remained silent, observing every corner of the house as if searching for something invisible.
At his insistence, the contract would last only one year.
One year was enough time—
To grow.
Or to disappear.
When the agent finally left, shaking Eric's hand with a polished smile, silence settled over the spacious living room.
Lucía turned to him.
"How exactly did you pay for this house without going through me?"
Eric walked to the window, looking out over the gated community.
"The payment was handled through Emir's security company."
She frowned.
"You've known this man long enough for him to front that kind of money?"
Eric gave a faint smile, pulling a single gold coin from his pocket and spinning it between his fingers.
The golden reflection briefly illuminated her face.
"Let's just say… I've already paid for a year of use."
Lucía crossed her arms.
"I don't know where you're getting all this gold—and I don't want to know. But don't make me regret being involved in this."
"You're being very well paid for it," Eric replied calmly.
She didn't like that tone.
They walked down the hallway toward the master suite.
The room was spacious, with tall windows and soft indirect lighting.
The bed hadn't been assembled yet, but the space carried weight.
Presence.
Eric stopped at the doorway.
"What do you think of the room?"
Lucía seemed caught off guard.
"I… it's beautiful," she replied, slightly flushed, suddenly aware that they were alone in an intimate space.
There was a brief silence.
Then Eric spoke, as if commenting on something trivial:
"I need another house."
She blinked.
"What?"
He kept walking, as if examining invisible details.
"I need you to find another property for me."
"You just rented this one," she snapped, irritation rising.
"I know."
She followed him back into the living room.
"What exactly is wrong with this house?"
Eric shrugged.
"It's beautiful. But too extravagant."
"You're the one who asked for something large and secure!"
"I agree," he said, letting out a soft laugh. "Still… I need another one."
Lucía's face flushed red.
"You can't treat people's work like trash just because you have money!"
Eric let out an involuntary smile.
A spoiled rich guy.
If someone had said that about him months ago, he would've laughed.
Now—
It was almost ironic.
Lucía turned, ready to leave.
Eric grabbed her arm instinctively.
The movement was too fast.
She turned back.
They were close.
Too close.
The silence stretched longer than it should have.
She could feel his breath.
He could see his reflection in her eyes.
Eric spoke first.
"I can't explain why."
She didn't pull away immediately.
"Then how do you expect me to trust you?"
He hesitated.
He couldn't say he needed to mislead Emir.
Couldn't say the house was already compromised just by Black Falcon's presence.
Couldn't say that the more predictable he became—
The more vulnerable he would be.
"You need to believe me," he said at last.
She lowered her gaze for a second.
"How much time do I have?"
It came out almost as a whisper.
"One week."
The words carried both urgency and something close to honesty.
She stepped back, as if withdrawing from an invisible trap.
"Don't worry," she said, regaining her professional tone. "Any specific requirements?"
Eric walked back to the window.
"Bulletproof glass. A monitoring system independent from the condominium. And I want full control over the cameras."
She studied him carefully.
"That's not just extravagance."
"No."
"Is there real danger?"
He didn't answer directly.
"I'm willing to pay for it. Even in gold."
The word hung between them—
A poorly hidden secret.
Lucía understood.
This wasn't indulgence.
It was preparation.
She should walk away.
That's what any rational person would do.
But something kept her there.
Maybe the money.
Maybe the opportunity to handle complex cases after years of being underestimated.
Maybe the feeling that she was witnessing the beginning of something much bigger.
Or maybe—
It was simply the curiosity Eric stirred in her.
He always seemed two steps ahead of something she couldn't yet see.
"One week," she repeated. "I'll handle it."
Eric nodded.
"Thank you."
She walked toward the door, but before leaving, turned back.
"Eric… if this is bigger than I think…"
He held her gaze.
"It is."
She didn't finish the sentence.
The door closed.
Eric stood alone in the large house—
A house he already knew he wouldn't keep.
He looked at the empty space.
At the bed.
And for a moment, memories surfaced.
His old life.
His family's financial struggles.
So much had happened that he hadn't even visited them.
But physical safety was no longer his only concern.
Emir was watching too closely.
And houses—
Were static.
Traceable.
He needed to move—
Before someone understood the pattern.
The silence of the house felt different now.
Less like shelter.
More like a display window.
Eric murmured to himself:
"I can't let anyone catch up to me."
The war was no longer against loan sharks.
Now—
It was against predictability.
And predictability was something he could never allow again.
His phone rang.
Elena.
"Are you still meeting the buyer?" she asked.