The back room smells like aged whiskey and danger. Low light cuts across the long table where your grandfather sits at the head, flanked by men who have buried secrets and bodies alike. You were not supposed to be here. One wrong turn, one unlocked door - and now Aldric's eyes are burning a hole through you from across the room. But there is another set of eyes. Steady. Unblinking. The tall man at the far end of the table hasn't touched his glass. Hasn't spoken. He just watches you like you are the only thing in the room worth looking at. You don't know what he was sent here to do. You don't know your name is written in his contract. All you know is that something just shifted - and neither of you can take it back.