Chapter 165: What He Didn’t Say
Maggie pushed off the wall with a slow movement. Her eyes, ringed with shadows of fatigue, locked onto Dylan with an intensity that clashed with how slumped she’d been minutes earlier. She didn’t cross her arms again. She let them hang at her sides, heavy, as if carrying the weight of everything he’d just dropped on them.
"A group." Her voice was rough, worn down by lack of sleep and too much tension. "A group you’ve just informed is in the sights of a guy who knows everything about us. A group you’re gently suggesting should leap into the wolf’s mouth because the wolf’s promising gold-flavored kibble." She shook her head, a tiny motion. "Did you forget the part where you said ’no,’ Dylan? Or have you already signed in your head?"
Élisa, still lying on her side, her chin resting in her hand, was watching Dylan. Not Maggie—Dylan. Her golden eyes no longer gleamed with childish curiosity but with something sharper, almost feral. "He’s been following us since the beginning?" she asked softly. Not scared. Just surprised. Like someone being told the air they breathe is being tracked. "Like a ghost? Or... a dog?" She scrunched her nose, puzzled. "Why hasn’t he shown himself?"
Dylan didn’t answer Maggie right away. He held Élisa’s gaze. "I’d say more like a landlord, Sweetheart," he said, his tone neutral—but the word dropped with a chilling weight. "Watching his livestock before deciding whether to pen them up... or butcher them."
Then he turned to Maggie. "Say no? To a guy who probably has enough dirt to get us hanged by tomorrow morning? Let’s say I chose to act like I found the idea... tempting. To buy time. And information." He tapped the sack by his feet again. "The gold-flavored kibble? It’s already here. An advance. Before we’ve even said yes."
Maggie let out a dry, humorless snort. "The condemned’s deposit. How thoughtful." She stepped forward, dragging her feet, and crouched near the sack without touching it, as if it might bite. "And during your charming little negotiation, did you ask why they didn’t just snatch us up when we arrived? What’s with the theatrics?"
"Because we made ourselves invisible, Maggie!" Élisa burst out, suddenly propping herself up on one elbow, eyes lighting up. "Like mice! Or cockroaches! We made ourselves too small, too ugly, too nothing for them to care at first!" She saw Maggie’s look and added, less sure, "... That’s what Dylan figured, right?"
Dylan smirked half-heartedly. "Something like that. Gael hinted that our... low profile made us interesting. Strangers showing up without making waves, but with a certain... potential."
He gestured vaguely to Élisa, then Maggie. "They want to see what we’re really capable of. If we’re worth the investment before they offer—or force us—to wear their colors. The job offer is the test. Accepting means playing their game. Refusing..." He let the sentence hang, heavy with implication.