I set down my equipment, pull out my phone and text her:I'm here. Starting installation. You'll have full system access within two hours.
Her response:Thank you. And Jax? The bedroom is off-limits. I mean it.
I text back:Understood. No cameras in private spaces without explicit consent.
Then I get to work.
The installation requires strategic thinking. Cameras need to cover entry points, common areas, blind spots where someone could breach without triggering alerts. But they also need to feel unobtrusive enough that Lana doesn't feel imprisoned in her own home.
I start with the entrance. A small camera integrated into what looks like a smoke detector. Covers the door, the small entryway, gives a clear view of anyone entering or exiting. The second camera goes in the living room, positioned to monitor the windows—fire escape access, potential breach points. Third in the kitchen, covering the back door that leads to a service hallway.
No bedroom. No bathroom. The spaces where she undresses, where she's most vulnerable, remain unwatched. It's the boundary that separates protection from violation.
By 10:23 AM, I've installed six cameras, integrated them into a secure network that feeds to both my monitoring system and—per our agreement—gives Lana admin access. She'll be able to see every angle I see, disable feeds if she wants privacy, and control her own surveillance.
I'm testing the final camera placement when my phone rings. Lucien.
"How's the installation?" he asks without preamble.
"Almost finished. She'll have full access by noon."
"Full access." His tone sharpens slightly. "You gave her admin privileges?"
"Per our agreement. She wanted transparency. I'm providing it."
"That defeats the purpose of covert surveillance, Jax. If she can disable the feeds, she can hide things we need to see."
"She's not hiding anything. She's establishing boundaries." I adjust the camera angle in the kitchen, making sure it covers the entry point without invading her limited privacy. "If this is going to work—if she's going to trust the protection—she needs to have a say over how it happens."
Lucien is quiet for a moment. Then: "You're getting attached."
"I'm being strategic."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive." A pause. "Have you confirmed surveillance on Ezra's investigator?"
"Working on it. The man who followed her yesterday is professional—former law enforcement, probably NYPD or similar. He knows how to avoid counter-surveillance. But I've identified his pattern. He watches her building in the mornings between seven and eight, follows her to the foundation office, and documents her routine."
"For what purpose?"
"Building a case. If Ezra's contesting the will, he needs to establish that Lana is unstable, dangerous, unfit to inherit Gabriel's estate. Surveillance documentation helps construct that narrative—look at how paranoid she is, how she changes routes randomly, how she isolates herself."
"Ironic, given that we're surveilling her for the opposite reason."
"The difference is consent." I finish the camera test, and confirm all feeds are live. "She knows I'm watching. She agreed to the terms. Ezra's investigator is building a file without her knowledge or permission."
"You think that distinction matters legally?"
"I think it matters ethically. And ethics are the only thing separating what I'm doing from what Gabriel did to her."
Lucien makes a sound that might be agreement or amusement. "You're moralizing surveillance. That's new for you."
"Elias taught me that protection without consent is just control with better marketing. I'm trying to remember the difference."
"How noble." His tone shifts and becomes more serious. "Speaking of Elias—he's been asking questions. About you. About Lana. About why I'm so interested in Gabriel Pope's widow."
My pulse kicks up. "What did you tell him?"
"That she's a patron with security concerns. That you're handling it professionally. That he's welcome to mind his own business." A pause. "But Jax? Elias doesn't ask questions unless he already knows the answers. If he's investigating your interest in Lana, it means he's concerned you're repeating patterns he tried to train out of you."
