The café near Paloma Street was small, tucked between an antique bookstore and a dry cleaner.
Serena chose it because it was quiet.
Unremarkable.
Forgettable.
Just a brief conversation.
Nothing more.
That's what she told herself as she slipped through the door, sunglasses low on her nose, scarf tucked neatly around her throat despite the mild weather.
Landon was already there, slouched in a back booth, nursing a black coffee.
He looked rough—dark circles under his eyes, a fading bruise along his jaw from a night she hadn't asked about.
When he saw her, his whole face lit up.
Too much.
Too fast.
Serena hesitated before sitting down across from him.
"You look beautiful," Landon said quietly, reaching across the table like he might take her hand.
Serena pulled hers back to smooth her scarf instead, forcing a tight smile.
"I can't stay long," she said.
"I just... I needed to explain."
"Explain what?" he asked, voice soft but sharp.
"That you're still pretending with him?
That you're still acting like you don't want out?"
Serena's heart thudded painfully.
"It's complicated."
Landon laughed bitterly.
"It's always complicated with you."
Across the street, a man in a nondescript brown jacket adjusted the lens on his camera from the passenger seat of a parked sedan.
Another man — sipping coffee at a sidewalk table — discreetly snapped photos from his phone.
Angles. Entries. Exits.
Documentation.
Nothing illegal yet.
Nothing undeniable yet.
But enough to start a file.
Enough to build a story.
Inside the café, Serena leaned in, lowering her voice.
"I can't just blow everything up overnight. I have to be careful."
"You're scared," Landon said simply.
Serena swallowed hard.
Maybe she was.
But she still had her gallery.
Her reputation.
Her name.
And Malik, distant as he was, still shielded her from a complete fall.
She couldn't lose everything.
Not yet.
Not like this.
They sat there for an hour.
No touching.
No kissing.
Just low, intense conversation — too intimate for friends, too heavy for casual acquaintances.
When they finally stood to leave, Landon brushed his hand along her back as they passed through the narrow door.
A touch so quick, so familiar,
that it burned through the layers of denial Serena had wrapped herself in.
The camera outside caught it perfectly.
Serena didn't look back as she climbed into her car.
She told herself it hadn't meant anything.
That she was still in control.
That she could still fix everything.
She didn't see the man in the brown jacket lower his camera,
didn't see the quiet nod exchanged between him and his partner.
That night, Serena stood in front of her bathroom mirror, scrubbing her face clean.
She stared at her reflection, searching for something solid beneath the mascara and foundation and tired eyes.
She found nothing.
Still, she lifted her chin.
Still, she smiled.
Paper castles didn't collapse overnight.
Did they?
Across the city, Malik sat in his darkened study, reading contracts under the dim glow of his desk lamp.
His phone buzzed once.
A new secure message.
Preliminary surveillance file attached.
He didn't open it.
Not yet.
Instead, he sat back in his chair,
letting the slow, inevitable tide pull everything toward its rightful end.