The Plaza ballroom was filled with people who had never been told no.

Politicians.

CEOs.

Fund managers.

Old-money families whose names appeared on hospital wings and museum galleries.

Sam hated almost everyone there.

Rachel stood beside him holding champagne.

"You look miserable."

"I am miserable."

"You look expensive, though."

Sam adjusted his tuxedo cuff.

"That's comforting."

Across the ballroom, Leo Callahan was speaking to three board members.

Black tuxedo.

White shirt.

No tie pin.

Completely at ease.

Sam hated that too.

"Stop looking at him," Rachel said.

"I'm not."

"You've looked at him eleven times."

"You counted?"

"I bill by the hour."

Sam took the champagne from her.

"I'm monitoring the competition."

"With your eyes?"

"That's generally how monitoring works."

Rachel smiled.

"Sure."

Leo looked across the room.

Their eyes met.

Sam immediately looked away.

Rachel's smile widened.

"Oh, this is catastrophic."

"Go bother someone else."

"I will. You two seem perfectly capable of bothering each other."

She left.

Sam drank half the champagne.

His phone vibrated.

A Hush message.

**NORTH:** Surviving?

Sam smiled before he could stop himself.

**SPARROW:** Barely.

Across the ballroom, Leo looked down at his phone.

Then back at Sam.

Sam didn't notice.

**NORTH:** Bad night?

**SPARROW:** Fundraiser.

**NORTH:** Tragic.

**SPARROW:** Men with too much money congratulating each other for giving away small portions of it.

Leo looked around.

Accurate.

**NORTH:** Sounds unbearable.

**SPARROW:** My favorite person is here.

Leo's thumb stopped.

**NORTH:** Callahan?

Sam looked across the ballroom again.

Leo was gone.

**SPARROW:** Unfortunately.

Leo read the message while walking toward the terrace.

His pulse had changed.

**NORTH:** Still hate him?

Sam didn't respond.

---

Twenty minutes later, Sam escaped the ballroom.

The terrace overlooked Fifth Avenue.

Cold air hit his face.

He loosened his collar.

Then called North.

Leo was only one level above him on a smaller private balcony connected to the executive reception room.

Neither man knew exactly where the other was.

Leo answered.

"You escaped."

"How did you know?"

"Background noise disappeared."

"Right."

Sam leaned against the stone railing.

"You would've hated this."

"Why?"

"Too many rich people."

"I solve their problems, remember?"

"Maybe you're one of them."

Leo smiled.

"Maybe."

Sam looked toward Central Park.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then Sam said, "I think I'm starting to like someone I shouldn't."

Leo stopped smiling.

The city seemed to recede.

"Someone at the fundraiser?"

"Maybe."

Leo gripped the phone.

He knew he shouldn't ask.

He asked anyway.

"Who?"

Sam laughed nervously.

"This is embarrassing."

"Sparrow."

"Leo."

Everything inside Leo stopped.

"What?"

"Leo Callahan."

Leo stared down toward the lower terrace.

He couldn't see Sam clearly from where he stood.

But he could hear him twice.

Once through the phone.

Once faintly through the open air below.

The same voice.

Perfectly synchronized.

For the first time, North and Leo occupied the same physical space.

Sam continued.

"I know. It's insane."

Leo said nothing.

"I hated him."

"Past tense."

"Don't enjoy this."

"I'm trying not to."

"He's still arrogant."

"Obviously."

"Controlling."

"Terrible."

"Impossible."

"A monster."

Sam laughed.

"But?"

Leo asked the word quietly.

Sam's expression changed.

"But I think there's more to him."

Leo closed his eyes.

"You said you saw him when nobody was watching."

"Yeah."

"Maybe that's the real version."

"I don't know."

"Do you want it to be?"

Sam looked down at Fifth Avenue.

"Maybe."

Leo's chest tightened.

Then Sam added:

"And now I feel like an asshole."

"Why?"

"Because of you."

Leo went still.

Sam rubbed his forehead.

"I don't even know what this is between us."

"Neither do I."

"That's a lie."

Leo flinched.

Sam didn't notice.

"You always know everything."

"Not this."

"North..."

Leo made the decision.

Enough.

Tomorrow, he would tell him.

No more games.

No more advantage.

No more letting Sam trust a man he didn't realize he already knew.

"There's something I need to tell you."

Sam straightened.

"What?"

Before Leo could answer, another notification appeared on Sam's phone.

Email.

From Grant Whitmore.

Subject:

**CALLAHAN / INTERNAL STRATEGY DOCUMENTS**

Sam frowned.

"Hold on."

He opened the attachment.

The first page contained Halcyon Ridge projections.

Internal projections.

Numbers only six people should have possessed.

Below them was an email chain apparently sent from a Callahan Capital executive account.

Leo's name appeared in the thread.

Sam's face drained of color.

"Sparrow?"

Sam couldn't speak.

The documents suggested Callahan had been using confidential Halcyon strategy for weeks.

Every negotiation.

Every counteroffer.

Every moment Leo seemed one step ahead.

Suddenly they looked different.

"Sam?"

This time Leo said the name without realizing it.

But Sam didn't hear.

He had already lowered the phone.

His eyes were fixed on one sentence in the leaked email.

**Bennett will move if pressured on governance. Use it.**

Something inside him went cold.

"I have to go."

"Wait—"

Sam ended the call.

Leo stared at the screen.

Below him, the terrace door opened.

A figure in a tuxedo disappeared into the ballroom.

Leo knew immediately something had gone wrong.

He just didn't know that by morning—

Sam Bennett would believe the worst thing Leo had ever done was not hiding his identity.

It was using him.