The full picture assembles itself with uncomfortable speed. "You assigned me to protect Lana so I could spy on her for Julian Ashford."
"I assigned you to protect her because Julian needed intelligence and I needed her alive for other operational reasons." Lucien's voice is measured, precise. "The protection was genuine, Jax. I wouldn't have put you on this if I thought she was in danger from Julian. He doesn't want her hurt—he's terrified of her, but he doesn't want violence. He just needs to know if she's sitting on evidence that threatens him."
"And you didn't think to tell me this when you gave me the assignment?"
"Would it have changed how you approached the surveillance? Would you have protected her differently if you'd known the full scope?" He leans forward. "You were supposed to assess what she knows while keeping her safe. That was always the dual purpose. Your compromise—your personal involvement—doesn't negate that you've done both things successfully."
My hands tighten on the arms of the chair. "Does she know? About Julian, about The Glasshouse, about Gabriel's connections?"
"That's what I need you to tell me. You've been tracking her for three weeks. You've reviewed her communications, her patterns, her relationships. You removed cameras but continued monitoring through other channels." His expression is neutral, but the assessment underneath is clear. "So tell me, Jax. Is Lana Pope a threat to Julian Ashford? Does she have evidence that could expose The Glasshouse?"
"So what does she know?" The question carries implications I'm only now processing. "That's what you actually want to hear. Not whether I'm compromised. Whether she's dangerous."
"Yes." No hesitation, no softening.
I think about Lana's apartment with unpacked boxes, her careful navigation of foundation work, the way she counts rotations when anxiety spikes. I think about Solange decoding Gabriel's files while Lana processes that her dead husband was part of a criminal organization she never knew. "She knows almost nothing. Solange has been decoding Gabriel's encrypted files and finding financial networks, but Lana herself has no operational knowledge. No evidence. No documentation that threatens anyone."
"You're certain?"
"I'm certain. She's traumatized, and she's trying to recover from Ezra Pope's legal threats. But she's not sitting on intelligence that exposes The Glasshouse. She's just a widow trying to survive her inheritance." I lean forward. "Julian can stop being terrified of her. She's not his problem."
Lucien absorbs this and processes the implications. "And your personal involvement? How does that affect assessment reliability?"
"It doesn't change what she knows. It just changes whether I can maintain professional distance going forward." The honesty costs me something. "If you want me to continue protection, I can do it professionally. But I can't guarantee I'll prioritize Dominion interests over her safety if those things conflict."
"They won't conflict. Not anymore." He stands, moving back to the window with the gesture that means conversations are concluding. "Julian needed to know what she knows. Now he knows—she's not a threat. My obligation to him is fulfilled. Your protection of her can continue without the assessment component."
"You're keeping me on her security."
"I'm keeping you on her security because Trask and Reese are still operating and she needs actual protection, not just intelligence gathering." He turns from the window. "But Jax, understand something. Your personal involvement is your business as long as it doesn't compromise Dominion operations. The moment it does, we have a different conversation."
"Understood."
"Good. Then go back to the safe house. Coordinate with Blackwood on apartment security. Keep her alive while Mira handles the legal offensive against Ezra." He picks up his tablet, the dismissal clear. "And Jax? Tell Julian's story to no one. Not Lana, not Blackwood, not anyone. He's trying to survive extraction from an organization that doesn't allow extraction. The fewer people who know his name, the safer he stays."
I stand, move toward the door, and pause with my hand on the handle. "Will he get out? Julian. Will he actually escape The Glasshouse?"
Lucien's expression is complicated—hope and resignation happening simultaneously. "I'm working on it. But escape isn't guaranteed. Sometimes the best you can do is survive another day without them deciding you're more valuable dead than alive."
The assessment is grim but honest. I leave his office with more questions than I arrived with, but at least now I understand the full scope of what I've been doing for weeks. Protecting Lana was always real. The surveillance served dual purpose. And Julian Ashford's terror shaped everything without me knowing his name until today.
I text Lana on the burner phone she’s using for now, thankful I got it from Brandon while coordinating yesterday:Still employed. Heading back to the safe house. We need to talk about what happens next.
Her response comes immediately:Good. I was worried.
Me:Don't worry. We're figuring this out together.
Lana:Promise?
Me:Promise.
My car is still in the employee garage where I abandoned it yesterday to ride with Brandon. I slide behind the wheel and drive back toward The Gateway, toward the safe house where Lana is waiting, toward whatever comes next now that protection doesn't require pretending I'm not personally invested in keeping her alive.
Julian Ashford can rest easier tonight knowing Lana isn't his threat.
But Trask and Reese are still out there. And The Glasshouse doesn't forgive people who try to leave.
CHAPTER 20: LANA
