His smile doesn’t falter, but something cold flickers in his eyes. “By all means,” he says, gesturing to the chairs across from his desk. “Let’s talk.”
“We found a bucket, manufactured by your company,” Holly announces, her voice tight with controlled anger.
Ryder leans back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. He doesn’t look surprised or concerned—just calculating, as always. “Greythorn Industries manufactures lots of things. What’s your point?“
“Well, this particular product might be responsible for poisoning a bunch of children in town,” I inform him. “Is that specific enough for you.”
His eyes narrow. “That’s quite an accusation.”
“The water from the bucket tested positive for dangerous levels of lead even though water from the spring itself tested clean.” I tell him. “Half a dozen children have already gotten sick from heavy metal poisoning. That’s pretty damning evidence.”
“Interesting theory,” Ryder muses. “Though I fail to see how this involves me personally.
“Cut the bullshit,” Holly snaps. “We know what you’re doing.”
Ryder raises an eyebrow. “Do you now?”
“You’re creating a health crisis,” Holly interjects, leaning forward. “To drive down property values so you can buy up land cheaply.”
His eyes narrow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
When Holly moves toward him, I step in front of her but keep my focus on Ryder. “We’re going to send that bucket off for testing and I’ll bet it comes back laced with heavy metals.”
A muscle clenches in Ryder’s jaw. “And what exactly will you prove, Doctor? That a bucket manufactured by my company contains lead? That someone—unknown—placed it at the springs? At worst, Greythorn Industries faces a civil penalty for a defective product.”
“You poisoned children,” Holly accuses.
“Prove it,” Ryder interrupts, his voice hardening. “Prove intent. Prove I knew about the bucket. Prove I placed it there. You can’t.”
“We’ll leave that for the police to decide,” Holly replies, lifting her chin defiantly.
Ryder leans back in his chair, a cold smile spreading across his face. “The police? You think this is about one bucket? One small town?” He laughs, the sound hollow and dangerous. “I’m just a cog in a machine, Doctor. A very large, very powerful machine. You’re risking more than you think by standing in my way.”
The hairs on my neck rise. Something about his tone, the casual confidence in his voice, strikes me as familiar. I’ve seen this before—not just arrogance, but the absolute certainty of someone with powerful backing.
“What exactly are you saying?” Holly demands, taking a step forward. “What machine?”
I place my hand on her arm, stopping her. My mind races, connecting dots I should have seen sooner. I never questioned where Ryder got the money to start Greythorn Industries afterleaving the service. Never wondered if he actually left our shadowy world of military dealings the way I did.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say firmly, cutting off whatever explanation Ryder was about to give. “The important thing is that we put a stop to this.”
Ryder’s eyes narrow, studying me with renewed interest. “Always the pragmatist, Ghost.” He taps his fingers on the desk, considering us. Then his expression shifts, a calculated smirk replacing his cold anger.
“I’ll tell you what,” he says, focusing on Holly. “I’ll make you a deal, Dr. Chang. You keep my little secret, and I’ll keep yours.”
Holly stiffens beside me. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play coy,” Ryder says with a dismissive wave. “You’re an omega pretending to be a beta. Did you really think that would stay hidden forever?”
Holly’s face pales, but her voice remains steady. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Ryder’s smirk widens into something predatory. “You did a good job hiding your designation, I’ll give you that. But I know Grayson well enough to have immediately seen something was up.” He gestures toward me. “There is no way Ghost would be this enamored unless something about you was different, and it didn’t take much digging to find out the truth.”
My hands clench into fists, rage building in my chest. He’s had someone investigate her, violate her privacy, threaten her career.
Holly remains silent, her expression unreadable.
“No medical record is safe if you’re willing to pay enough for a good hacker,” Ryder continues casually. “So here’s my proposition: you keep this nasty business about lead and buckets to yourself and not only will I promise that, going forward, the precious little children of Heat Mountain will remain safe, but so will your dirty little secret.”
