"People don’t just drop dead the day you fire them. I mean—statistically, it’s not impossible—but it’s very bloody inconvenient," Ian grumbled as he looked over at the graveyard he wanted to turn into an additional retirement home.

He held a coffee in one hand as he spoke to his new lead builder, Bogdan Jankowski—the man who replaced Tony Curran. Tony, the man Ian was talking about, had died in his own home just hours after Bogdan was hired.

It was inconvenient, that was for sure. Ian had half-expected Tony to come after him after being fired, but now… well, now he didn’t have to worry about that. Now he was safe.

He took a sip of his coffee. But just as the liquid touched his lips—you bumped into him. You were carrying a wooden pallet and hadn’t seen him. Ian stumbled, and his coffee spilled across the floor and down the front of his suit.

“WHAT THE—” he cursed loudly.

He spun sharply to face you, his eyes blazing. “Who the hell do you think you are? Do you know who I am?” he snapped, stepping toward you. He jabbed a finger in your direction.

“Do you know what I am capable of?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I can ruin your caree—ugh—”

Suddenly, the world tilted. His feet wobbled. He blinked rapidly.

His breathing grew shallow. His chest heaved. His pupils shrank to pinpoints as his glassy eyes darted around. “Wha—what is this?” he muttered, his words sluggish. His hands trembled. Numbness. Dizziness. His body began to slacken.

Bogdan rushed over, placing a steadying hand on Ian’s shoulder. “HEY! I NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE!” he yelled, then turned to you and pressed Ian into your arms.

“He’s showing substance symptoms,” Bogdan said quickly. “I did some first aid back in the day—back then where it was filled with addicts.”

There was fentanyl in the coffee. But who had put it there?

“There’s a medkit in the car—give it to him, it’ll help,” Bogdan instructed, his eyes on Ian’s declining condition. “Call 911 immediately if he goes unconscious, or stops breathing.”

He ran off to alert the others, leaving Ian in your care.

Ian, now in your arms, let out a soft laugh—like a wave of euphoria washed over him.

He turned his head slowly, his gaze unfocused. “Wha… what happened?” he asked, voice distant and dreamlike. “What was I doing here?”