The silver Land Rover pulled into the gravel lot of the diner with a surgical precision that hadn't been there ten minutes ago. Julian sat in the driver's seat for a full minute, adjusting his tie in the rearview mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, but his face was a mask of terrifying, porcelain calm. The manic sobbing in the study was gone, replaced by a singular, icy purpose.
He stepped out of the car, smoothed the front of his cashmere coat, and entered the diner.
The bell chimed, a cheerful sound that felt like a mockery. The lunchtime rush had faded, leaving the place smelling of stale grease and floor wax. Martha was behind the counter, her back to the door as she scrubbed a milkshake spindle.
Julian walked to the counter, his movements eerie in their stillness. He didn't sit. He just stood there, waiting.
Martha turned around, wiping her hands on her apron. When she saw him, her expression shifted from professional tiredness to a guarded, immediate hostility. She knew who Julian Vane was, the man who wanted to turn the town's history into a strip mall.
"We're closing in twenty minutes," Martha said, her voice hard. "And the grill is already off."
Julian smiled. It was a perfect, practiced expression, but it didn't move the muscles around his eyes. "I'm not here for the food, Martha. I'm looking for Alina. We have some... unfinished business regarding a project in the city."
Martha's eyes narrowed. She leaned her heavy forearms on the laminate counter, placing herself between Julian and the kitchen door. "Alina isn't here."
Julian's smile didn't falter, but his fingers twitched against the edge of the counter. "I see. Is she in the back? Scrubbing tables?"
"She called in sick," Martha said, and there was a flicker of genuine worry in her eyes that she couldn't hide. "First time she's missed a shift since she got here. Girl sounded like she'd been run over by a tractor on the phone. Now, unless you're here to order a cold sandwich, I'd appreciate it if you let me get back to my work."
The "porcelain" on Julian's face cracked for a split second. A flash of pure, black jealousy surged through him. Called in sick. He knew what that meant. In his twisted mind, he saw her back at Silas's house, tangled in those heavy sheets, laughing at him. He saw Silas touching her, claiming the fire that Julian felt belonged to him.
"Sick," Julian repeated, the word tasting like poison. "How unfortunate."
"Yeah, real shame," Martha snapped. "Now, get. I don't like the way you're looking at my diner, and I sure as hell don't like the way you're looking for my niece."
Julian leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper that made the hair on Martha's arms stand up. "You should be careful, Martha. Family is a fragile thing. Sometimes people get sick because they're around things that
are... toxic. Things like Silas Mercer."
"You get out of here before I call the sheriff," Martha hissed, reaching for the phone under the counter.
Julian stepped back, raising his hands in a mocking gesture of surrender. "No need for theatrics. I was just leaving. Please... give Alina my best when she's feeling 'up' to it."
He turned and walked out, his stride steady and predatory.
He didn't get back in his car immediately. He stood in the parking lot, looking at the low, gray clouds. She wasn't at the diner. She wasn't at the manor, he would have seen her car. That meant she was alone in that shitty, crumbling apartment on the edge of town.
Alone. Vulnerable.
He felt the thrill return, hitting him like a drug. Silas had slept with her, but Silas was a gentleman. Silas would wait for an invitation.
Julian was done waiting. If Silas had claimed her body, Julian would claim her spirit. He would show her that the "monster" she'd summoned in the car wasn't just a bedtime story.
He got into the Land Rover and didn't head back to the city. He headed toward the neighborhood where the streetlights flickered and the pavement was cracked.
Inside the diner, Martha watched him go, her hand trembling as she picked up the phone.
She didn't call the sheriff. She dialed Silas's private line.
"Silas," she said as soon as he picked up, her voice cracking. "He was here. Julian. He's looking for her, and he's got that look in his eye... the one that makes me think he's about to break something. You need to get to her apartment. Now."