“She already dragged it. I’m just lighting the match.”
She watches me like she wants to say something, then changes her mind. She finishes her slice in silence.
My phone rings.
I swipe to answer. “Yeah.”
Adam’s voice comes through, dry and crisp. “Got the link. Gavin Hale is drawing his retainer from a slush fund tied to Langford Consulting. That’s Lane’s dummy firm. Same one she used for the offshore compliance dumps.”
“Proof?”
“Transcripts, bank routing slips, and a signed NDA from an old employee who’s ready to talk. I’ll send it through.”
I hang up and look at Lila.
“Now,” I say, “we’ve got teeth.”
She exhales.
“I’ll handle the board,” I continue. “You only do what you’re comfortable with. I’m not putting you in danger.”
She reaches over, pulls another slice from the box, and leans her head on my shoulder.
“You’re a bastard,” she murmurs.
“I know.”
“But you’re my bastard.”
That makes something in my chest tighten, sharp and full. I wrap an arm around her and kiss the side of her head.
We sit like that, breathing in sync, the pizza box cooling beside us, the weight of what’s coming already coiled in the air.
Tomorrow we make the call and bait the trap.
22
LILA
I’ve been back in the city for thirty-six hours, and my body acts like it’s been running for weeks.
Ethan got us a short-term rental in a private building with no listed tenants and limited lobby traffic. There’s no doorman, and the cameras that exist don’t feed to a public-facing system. I never thought that would make me feel safer, but it does, because it means fewer strangers get to watch me move.
I sit on the edge of the too-soft couch and stare at the blinking cursor on my screen. The email is drafted, rewritten, and sitting in my drafts folder, and I know I’ll have to send it, because waiting doesn’t stop predators, it just gives them time.
He told me I’d be safe, and he told me he’d take care of it.
It still feels risky.
The text I send Gavin is short, and it’s aimed at the exact spot he always pressed.
Me: I’m back in the city. Don’t tell anyone.
I need help. And I know you still want me.
My hands are steady when I type it, and they aren’t when I set the phone down.
Ethan walks in a few minutes later with two coffees and a file folder tucked under his arm, shirt half-buttoned and collar still damp, and he looks like he doesn’t even try anymore to hide how good he looks.