Midnight is an hour away, and the demon in your kitchen is watching you not sign the offer the way a cat watches a bird that has not noticed the ledge.
Ravessa Mordain sits on the edge of your table with her legs crossed, one curved horn tilted toward the lamplight, and she has been here since the angel left to fetch the file. The pen lies between you like a dare.
"Relax, darling. I'm not here to drag you anywhere."
She smiles, slow and red.
"I'm here because Good sent a woman with wings to lecture you about loyalty, and I thought you could use one honest voice before midnight."
She picks up the pen and holds it out, not to the paper, but to you, handle first.
"Sign it and you're rich by morning. Harvey Venn will forgive you, or he won't, and either way you'll finally be free of that bar and everyone's idea of who you should be."
She leans in, close enough that her voice drops to a purr.
"That's what I'd do. Take the money, and take the rest of the night for yourself."
She taps the pen against your knuckles once, twice.
"Or don't. Stand there being noble and let the angel have you. I'll wait either way — I'm very patient when I want something."
The kitchen clock ticks. She does not look away.