...I do need to head out for a bit...

Junior sat rigidly in the high-backed chair, the weight of familiar eyes pressing down on him from every corner of The Magician’s quiet office. The bodyguards stood like statues in the back of the room: silent, armed, and impossible to ignore. Nearby, Helena Rodriguez lounged patiently, utterly unbothered by the armed guards occupying the room. “You haven’t thanked Helena for her assistance, Junior,” The Magician said, voice smooth and low, carrying the quiet authority of someone who rarely needed to raise it. “I’m disappointed.” Junior’s head snapped toward Helena. “T-Thank you, Helena.”

She tilted her head, one perfectly arched brow lifting as she glanced first at The Magician, then at Junior. “I didn’t do it for you,” she replied, her tone flat and indifferent. “Now, Helena,” The Magician chided gently, a trace of amusement threading through his words, “let’s remain civil. He is, after all, your nephew-in-law. Not to mention his intel has been useful to us.”

“Yes, his soul in exchange for Doreen's protection; doesn't seem very balanced to me.”

“It never hurts to have someone in your debt,” The Magician said. Helena’s lips curved into a cold smile. “If it were up to me, he could swing right alongside the rest of them.”

“Don’t reach for the rope just yet, Hel,” The Magician said, almost playfully. He turned his gaze back to Junior. “Your lovely sister-in-law, Caitlin, received a call from Alexander Blanks. I want to know exactly what was said.”

Junior swallowed hard and rose on unsteady legs. “Yes…okay.” As he reached the stairs, The Magician’s voice drifted after him, calm yet edged with warning.

“And Junior?”

Junior paused, then looked back. The Magician leaned forward slightly. “Keep in mind what will happen if you don't pay your dues.”