"Never heard of him?"

Sam sounded genuinely surprised.

Leo took another sip of whiskey.

"Should I have?"

"Only if you read financial news, business news, New York news, or occasionally the crime section."

Leo nearly choked.

"The crime section?"

"I'm exaggerating."

"You don't sound like you're exaggerating."

"Fine. Maybe a little."

Leo settled deeper into the chair.

This was dangerous.

He knew that.

There were perhaps a dozen sensible things he could do at that moment.

Disconnect.

Tell Sparrow his identity.

Pretend the connection had failed.

Delete Hush.

Instead, Leo said, "Tell me about the devil."

Sam laughed again.

"He has this face."

"Most people do."

"No, you don't understand. It's a specific face."

"I'm fascinated already."

"The expression says he's disappointed you were born."

Leo looked toward his reflection in the dark window.

He wondered whether he made that face often.

Probably.

"He sounds charming."

"He's a nightmare."

"What makes him a nightmare?"

Sam shifted on his couch.

"He doesn't listen. He waits for you to stop talking so he can explain why you're wrong."

"Maybe you are wrong."

"North."

"Yes?"

"You're supposed to be on my side."

"I wasn't informed there were sides."

"There are always sides."

That sounded like something Leo might have said.

He disliked noticing the similarity.

Sam continued.

"He's controlling. Condescending. Cold. He acts like every room belongs to him."

"Does it?"

"What?"

"Does every room belong to him?"

"Financially? Possibly."

Leo smiled.

"And personally?"

Sam was quiet for a second.

"Personally, I think he's lonely."

The smile disappeared.

Leo stared at the city.

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know."

"You usually do."

"Fine. He never looks relaxed. Not even when he's winning."

Leo's fingers tightened slightly around the glass.

Sam couldn't possibly know anything about him.

They had spent one day in the same room.

Yet the observation landed with uncomfortable precision.

Leo changed the subject.

"What's happening tomorrow?"

"Another meeting."

"With Callahan?"

"Unfortunately."

"What are you fighting about?"

"Valuation."

Leo's attention sharpened.

"Don't tell me confidential numbers."

"I'm not an idiot."

"Debatable."

"You're unusually annoying tonight."

"I've been inspired."

Sam sighed.

"Callahan's going to attack our growth assumptions."

"Then don't defend them."

Sam paused.

"What?"

"If he challenges your valuation, he'll expect you to justify your number. Don't."

"What do I do instead?"

"Make him justify his."

Sam sat straighter.

Leo continued.

"Ask which assumption he rejects first. Revenue? Margins? Expansion? Make him choose. The moment he does, the discussion becomes about his model instead of yours."

Silence.

Then Sam said, "That's actually good."

"Try not to sound shocked."

"What do you do again?"

Leo looked around his penthouse.

"I solve problems for rich people."

"Lawyer?"

"No."

"Consultant?"

"Worse."

Sam laughed.

Leo heard the sound and forgot, briefly, that he was helping his own opponent prepare to fight him.

---

The next morning, Leo realized exactly how stupid that had been.

"Your growth assumptions are optimistic," he said across the Mercer conference table.

Sam didn't move.

"Which one?"

Leo stopped.

Sam's expression was perfectly innocent.

"Excuse me?"

"Which assumption do you reject? Revenue growth? Operating margins? Enterprise expansion?"

Mason, sitting beside Leo, slowly turned his head.

Leo ignored him.

Sam continued.

"Let's start with the specific variable you think is wrong."

Leo stared.

Sam waited.

The bastard was using Leo's own strategy against him.

And enjoying it.

"Enterprise expansion," Leo said.

"Great."

Sam opened the model.

"Then let's discuss why Callahan's forecast assumes Mercer loses eight percent of its institutional pipeline despite a signed three-year renewal cycle."

Daniel Mercer leaned forward.

"That's a fair question."

Leo's jaw tightened.

Sam smiled.

It was the same smile from Monday.

The one that meant someone's morning was about to become worse.

Leo hated that smile.

He was beginning to like it too.

Which was unacceptable.

Two hours later, when the meeting ended, Sam walked past him.

"Productive morning."

Leo kept his voice low.

"Enjoy it while it lasts."

"I'm planning to."

"Confidence is attractive until it becomes delusion."

Sam stopped.

Their eyes met.

"Was that almost a compliment?"

"No."

"Shame."

Sam walked away.

Mason waited until the elevator doors closed.

Then he looked at Leo.

"You taught him that."

Leo glanced sideways.

"What?"

"That move."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I've worked with you for nine years."

"My condolences."

"That was your strategy."

Leo gathered his papers.

Mason's eyes narrowed.

"Why are you helping Samuel Bennett beat you?"

"I'm not."

"Good explanation."

"Thank you."

---

That night, Sparrow called at 12:14.

"It worked."

Leo was in bed, laptop open beside him.

He knew exactly what Sam meant.

"What worked?"

"Your strategy."

Leo considered hanging up.

Instead, he said, "Congratulations."

"You sound disappointed."

"I'm overwhelmed with joy."

"I made Callahan stop talking."

"Impossible."

"For three full seconds."

"A historic achievement."

"You should've seen his face."

"I can imagine."

Sam laughed.

"He looked like he wanted to throw me out the window."

"Maybe he did."

"Forty-two floors."

"Efficient."

There was a comfortable silence.

Then Sam said, quieter, "Can I tell you something stupid?"

"You usually do."

"I'm serious."

Leo closed his laptop.

"Go ahead."

Sam looked toward the dark window of his apartment.

They had never exchanged photographs.

Never shared names.

Never even confirmed what neighborhoods they lived in.

Yet somehow talking to North felt easier than talking to people Sam had known for years.

"If I ever meet you," Sam said, "I think I might actually like you."

Leo went completely still.

Sam immediately regretted it.

"Forget I said that."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

Leo stared at the ceiling.

His voice was lower when he continued.

"I won't forget."

Sam's heartbeat accelerated.

"That's not an answer."

"You didn't ask a question."

"You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

Sam smiled.

Neither man spoke for several seconds.

Finally Sam whispered, "Good night, North."

"Good night, Sparrow."

The call ended.

Leo remained awake for a long time.

Because somewhere in Manhattan, Samuel Bennett hated Leo Callahan.

And Sparrow was beginning to like North.

The problem was that they were the same man.