Lila maneuvers them to a small bistro table away from the counter and the steady stream of customers. Kala is too stunned to protest: the woman whose sanity she was just questioning is here, at her regular coffee shop, forcing a tête-à-tête. Kala's steps falter.

"Relax, Baby," Lila gives Kala's waist a bracing squeeze before releasing her hold to sit down. She nods to the seat across from her, unzipping her leather jacket to reveal a lacy black top, out of place at this hour, in this coffee shop. "I just want to talk."

Kala's eyes widen. She stares at Lila. "If I wanted to talk to you," she says tightly, "I would have called you last night at the number you left. In the note. In my room."

Lila's brows tick up in surprise. She smirks appreciatively. "Oh, my," she says, shaking her head. "It was dramatic, I know, but I had to get your attention. And I got it, yes?"

Kala glares back, unamused. "How did you get in?" she asks.

Lila shrugs. "I assure you that I didn't sneak in like some common thief, Cara," she says. She laughs a little, amused by a private joke. "I went to your landlord. I told him I had an urgent message from your family. He offered to slide the note under your door but I said you would miss that, coming home tired. So he let me in, and I left it on your bed. He never questioned the story. One only needs to be creative in these things."

Or look like Lila Facchini. Kala frowns sharply. She wonders if Lila is telling the truth, alarmed by the idea that her landlord would let a stranger into her flat.

"Anyway." Lila waves dismissively. "I didn't really believe you would want to talk to me," she says, leaning in, a challenging smile on her lips. "But I want to talk to you."

Kala stiffens. She should walk away: out the door and straight to the lab where her world is controlled and precise and familiar.

But the knowledge that she is only putting off the inevitable, that Lila will surprise her again somewhere else, stops Kala. At least here, in a busy coffee shop right next to her work, there isn't much that Lila can do or say.

Kala catches her lower lip, brows drawn. She puts down the cup of coffee she was given, clutches her tote closer as she sits cautiously across from Lila. "What do you want?" she asks.

Lila sits back in her seat. "I don't want anything," she says cooly. "I'm here to do you a favor. Because it is obvious to me that Wolfgang hasn't been very honest with you about himself. Or about me. You clearly know who I am, so I can only guess what Wolfgang must have said."

Kala's heart races. She remembers who she is supposed to be, what Wolfgang means to her; and she remembers how she felt seeing Lila for the first time. "Of course I know who you are," she says softly. "I saw you kissing Wolfgang at the zoo. He told me he had a relationship with you, but it's over. That's all he's said. That's all I need to know. I trust him. There's really nothing for you to say that is of any interest to me."

There is a flash in Lila's dark eyes: a hint of something Kala isn't certain she understands. But it is gone as quickly as it came.

Lila reaches for the coffee that Kala doesn't drink. She smiles fleetingly, amused, when Kala shrinks back at the unexpected move. "There's more to my relationship with Wolfgang than that, Cara," she murmurs, taking a cautious sip. Lila puts the cup down, cradles it between her neatly manicured hands. "We've known each other since we were kids," she says. "Our families were very similar, except that my father was only an asshole. Wolfgang's father was the actual Devil." Lila's eyes grow cold. Whatever else she might say, Kala knows this part is true. "Wolfgang's uncle and cousin were not much better, and he went to live with them after his father was killed."

Kala's breath catches in surprise, a detail not lost on Lila's sharp eyes.

"Didn't Wolfgang mention his father was murdered?" she asks sweetly. "Anton's body was found inside his burning car. The killer was never discovered. Polizei don't look too closely at these kinds of things. But that man deserved to be tortured." She shrugs. "It was not a surprise."

Kala feels the blood rush to her head, shocked by the brutal account.

Lila gives a light exhale and studies Kala, silent for several seconds. "You seem like a good person," she says abruptly. "I bet you come from a nice family. A close family. And you're smart. Ambitious. You've traveled a long way for that, haven't you?"

Kala remains silent, intent on giving nothing away, on keeping her expression impassive.

"Curious." Lila's eyes narrow shrewdly. "Why would you move so far from your family? Was it opportunity? Adventure? Or did you need to escape?" She takes a deliberately slow sip of coffee, watches Kala from under thick, dark lashes.

Kala's hands clench and unclench under the table. She feels almost light-headed with tension, absurdly panicked by what Lila has casually revealed about Wolfgang's father, about what Lila has guessed about herself. "You said you wanted to speak to me about Wolfgang."

Lila shrugs again. She puts the coffee cup down, turns it idly in her hand. "Yes," she agrees, "you probably suspect the truth already, that Wolfgang isn't who he says he is. At least, not just what he says he is. He was born to do so much more, and it's only a matter of time before everything catches up to him."

Kala tenses. "What do you mean?" she asks without thinking: without remembering that it doesn't matter what Lila says. The fake relationship will withstand any disclosure. Kala catches her bottom lip, upset by her own curiosity. "Never mind," she says, before Lila can answer. "This is ridiculous. I don't want to hear your explanation."

"He's a dangerous man." Lila watches her calmly, voice low. "Don't you wonder why the very mention of his name can make someone like Lukas Fischer—a wealthy, arrogant prick—nervous?"

Lila smiles humorously. "Wolfgang is not some respectable businessman," she says. "He's only playing at it, like I am. Except Wolfgang doesn't really know how; that's not how he was raised. He'll go back to what he knows. The respectable life, the club, you, are all experiments to him: a life he might think he wants, but won't know what to do with."

Kala feels heat creep up her face. She reminds herself this means nothing to the real her; that Lila's words sting only for the other Kala.

"And when that happens," Lila says,"when he is tired of trying to be something that he's not, what do you think will happen to you? Do you understand what you give up if you stay with him?"

Kala says nothing.

"You're not what I expected, you know," Lila continues, thoughtful. "When I heard Wolfgang was with someone - really with someone - I thought the person would be more -" she tilts her head, smirks -"like me, to be honest. Dark. Wicked. Someone more true to type. But you." She looks at Kala, puzzled. "You are not any of that, are you?"

Kala feels the blow of the comparison: at the difference between Lila's sophisticated beauty and herself, unpolished, gauche. Kala's cheeks flush. She rises from her seat; she has listened long enough. "If you're finished," she says, "I need to go to work." Kala gathers the straps of her tote to her shoulder.

"Wait."

Lila reaches into the pocket of her leather coat. She places a cell phone next to the coffee cup, taps lightly at the screen as it flickers on to reveal a factory-set picture.

"I wasn't sure that I could convince you to stay away from Wolfgang for your own good," she says. "So I took this. His phone." She arches an eyebrow at Kala. "What? Did you really think he texted you this morning to meet here?" She shakes her head. "I took his phone yesterday, so you'll forgive him that he didn't answer any of your calls."

Lila smiles a little at Kala's stricken look. "Don't worry. I didn't listen to any messages." She slides the phone towards Kala. "The next time you see Wolfgang," she says, "give it to him with my compliments. He's been looking for it, and he'll be furious that I've managed to unlock it. But. Beforeyou give it back," she adds, "take a look at his contacts. Look them up on the Internet. We have a saying where I come from, in Napoli: Dimmi con chi vai e ti dirò chi sei. It means, 'tell me who you are with, and I'll tell you who you are'.

"Wolfgang thinks he's clever, burying who he is." Lila scoffs. "If you look for him on the Internet, it's as if he sprung fully-formed as a nightclub owner. But this will tell you otherwise. It's in the company he keeps, Cara."

Kala stares at the phone, frozen, as if presented with forbidden fruit. Lila rolls her eyes and flicks it hard enough to fall off the table. Kala catches it. Predictably.

Lila smirks. She stands up brusquely and gestures for Kala to walk ahead of her as they leave the coffee shop, stopping just outside the doors.

"If you have any questions," says Lila, already reaching into another pocket to grab a cigarette and lighter. "Give me a call. My number, in case you threw away the note, is also in Wolfgang's contacts."

Kala leaves before Lila even places the cigarette between her lips.

Hernando brings her her own small thermos of atole from Lito. He tells her jokingly that she still owes him a cup of coffee. Kala smiles back, grateful for the distraction, and takes a curious sip. She asks Hernando what atole is made of, surprised by the consistency, and receives an enthusiastic explanation that she encourages on purpose: Hernando's normally sharp eyes fail to notice Kala's tension.

The rest of the morning, Kala focuses on completing the data she'd been unable to finish yesterday. She avoids Lukas Fischer, noting grimly that he seems just as intent on avoiding her. She wonders again how much he knows about Lila's plans. And why he is so afraid of Wolfgang.

She finishes the data comparison just before noon and excuses herself from lunch with Hernando, meeting instead with Yrsa. They go over Kala's findings, discuss new models, and when the meeting is over, Kala suits up and spends the rest of the afternoon in the cleanroom, deliberately absorbed in her work.

All the while, Wolfgang's phone hangs like a millstone weighing heavily on her mind, gnawing at the edge of her thoughts.

She would be lying if she didn't admit to being tempted by the idea of scrolling through Wolfgang's contacts. It seems like a lifetime ago when she'd looked for information on him before reaching out to Felix. She had been frustrated to find nothing, not even a photo.

And Lila has planted a terrifying suspicion.

Kala shakes off her unease.

Wolfgang has done nothing, said nothing, to frighten her. Any such feelings are Lila's doing, and it is clear that Lila is very good at manipulating people.

But it doesn't matter. Kala lets out a breath, reminds herself that she has no right to do anything more than return the phone. Wolfgang is entitled to his privacy, just as she is entitled to hers. And once Lila is gone, whatever intimacy they shared will be gone too.

Kala feels sick to the pit of her stomach and recalls she's had nothing to eat all day except the atole hours ago. Last night she only had some bread and soup.

She takes off the white coverall, drops it into the disposal bin outside the cleanroom. She tells Hernando in the hallway that she will be back after grabbing something to eat at the cafeteria.

Cellphones are not allowed in the cleanroom. When Kala retrieves hers, there are three missed calls from Felix and one voicemail message.

She plays it on her way to the cafeteria, inexplicably nervous until she hears Felix's familiar, excitable voice:

"Kala. Hey, it's Felix. Where are you? Are you okay? Call me!" He pauses for a beat. "Actually, call Wolfie! He's freaking out." He pauses again, sighs audibly. "Wait. You can't. Lila took his phone. Ok. Call Wolfie at the club. Press the star thing and then 9. And then let me know you got this message. He's got me freaked out. Don't forget to call."

She smiles a little at the disjointed message. Would someone as dangerous as Lila claims be "freaking out" because he can't reach her?

But maybe Wolfgang is frantic because he is dangerous; because the company he keeps makes her vulnerable.

Kala's smile falters. She tries to think back at things Wolfgang has said, at things Felix has implied.

The cafeteria is almost empty of other people as it's almost closed for the day. Kala purchases an egg and toast and a cup of tea. She sits down at the end of a long table and looks up the number for Dämonen. She gathers her composure before pressing the "call" button, biting absently at her toast while she waits for the call to be picked up. She presses *9 as Felix directed, and waits again while her call is transferred and rings in Wolfgang's office.

Wolfgang doesn't answer. She debates what to say as the service asks her to hang up or leave a message.

Another call, from an unknown number, interrupts.

Kala answers instinctively, disconnecting the first call. "Hallo?"

There is a relieved sigh. "Kala." She warms at the sound of that voice, unmistakably Wolfgang's. "Are you ok? Are you at work?"

She nods stupidly, suddenly tired. Exhausted. "Yes," she says. "I'm ok. I'm at work."

"Gut." She can feel his agitation. "I couldn't call you. Lila took my phone. I thought maybe I'd catch you this morning to let you know." He gives a huff. "I was at your flat early, before you usually leave, but when I waited and didn't see you, I thought something might be wrong."

"I wasn't there. I spent the night at a hotel."

Wolfgang mutters something unintelligible. "What happened?" he asks, voice taut.

"I came home late, ate a little, and went into my room." Kala swallows, the tension of last night and this morning suddenly threatens to overwhelm her. She pauses. "I found a note for me on the bed, from Lila," she continues. "She left me a contact number, asking to meet. I didn't know how she got the note there. I was nervous to stay. So I left."

There is silence for a second, maybe two. "What time are you leaving the lab tonight?"

Kala frowns. "Tonight?" she repeats. "After 6. Why?"

"I'll be there. I'll pick you up."

Kala shakes her head again, as if Wolfgang can see her. "You don't have to," she objects. "I'm good. And you need to be at the club tonight."

"Yeruslan can take care of the club tonight. I want to see you."

Kala catches her lower lip. "Wolfgang."

"Meet me at the bus stop."

He hangs up before she has a chance to protest further.

Or to tell him she has his phone.

A/N: I might finally be back on schedule for posting, Friends! (Famous last words, I know.)Special thanks to @Thank_god_for_gravity for giving Lila something to say. Grazie, Cuz 3Then @Halcyon_Red did her usual magic to clean this update. THANK YOU *Without you guys, I'd just be stuck.As always, reviews are very much appreciated!