"And you saw yourself in that."
"I saw someone who understands that distance is just another word for survival. That performance is how you get through days when existence feels like endurance." I set down my glass. "She made me want to step out from behind the cameras. To be present instead of observing. That's terrifying and necessary in equal measure."
Elias studies me with an expression I can't quite read. Then: "You're in love with her."
"I barely know her."
"You know enough to have memorized her patterns. To have installed surveillance in her home and called it protection. To be sitting here defending obsession as investment." He stands again, this time moving to the bookshelf where he keeps tactical manuals next to philosophy. "Love doesn't require time, Jax. It just requires recognition. You recognized something in her that mirrors what you've been running from in yourself."
The observation is too accurate to refute. "Does recognition make it wrong?"
"Recognition makes it dangerous. For both of you." He pulls a book from the shelf—not reading it, just needing something to do with his hands. "When I met Mara, she was fleeing her own version of Gabriel Pope. Abusive relationship, control disguised as care, surveillance framed as love. I thought I was different. Thought I was protecting her instead of possessing her."
"You were different. You gave her agency."
"Eventually. After two years of making the same mistakes you're making now." He replaces the book. "I watched her obsessively. Tracked her movements. I told myself it was for her safety. And Mara—she accepted it because she'd been trained to believe being watched was the price of being loved."
The parallel to Lana is uncomfortable. Gabriel trained her to accept surveillance. I'm offering surveillance disguised as protection. The methodology is different, but the outcome might be the same.
"What changed?" I ask. "How did you stop?"
"I didn't stop. I just became honest about what I was doing." Elias returns to his chair. "Stopped calling it protection and started calling it what it was—I loved her, and loving her meant wanting to know where she was, what she was doing, that she was safe. Once I admitted that, we could negotiate what healthy surveillance looked like versus what was just my need to control."
"And what does healthy surveillance look like?"
"Boundaries that she sets, not boundaries I impose. She decides when the cameras are on, when they're off. She has access to everything I see. And most importantly—I had to give someone else veto power. Someone who could tell me when I was crossing lines I couldn't see anymore."
The parallel to my arrangement with Lana is striking. We negotiated the same boundaries. I gave her admin access, agreed to Elias having veto power over my protection.
"I did that," I say. "Lana has full control over the surveillance. And I told her to tell you if I ever make her feel controlled instead of protected."
Elias's expression shifts to something like approval. "You gave me veto power over your protection of her?"
"You're the only person who'll see patterns I'm too close to recognize. Who'll tell me when I've crossed from protection into possession." I meet his eyes. "I need someone to stop me if I become what I'm claiming to protect her from."
He's quiet for a long moment. Then: "That's the smartest thing you've said all night. And it's also the most terrifying."
"Why terrifying?"
"Because it means you're self-aware enough to know you're in danger of becoming Gabriel. And self-awareness doesn't prevent obsession—it just makes you more sophisticated about justifying it." He refills both our glasses even though I haven't asked. "So here's what's going to happen. You're going to continue protecting Lana. You're going to be honest with her about your attraction instead of hiding behind professional obligation. And you're going to check in with me weekly—not only her, me too—and report on whether the boundaries are holding or whether you're finding creative ways to cross them."
"You want me to report on myself."
"I want you to have external accountability that isn't dependent on someone who's as emotionally invested as you are." He hands me the refilled glass. "Lana can tell you when you're crossing her boundaries. I'll tell you when you're crossing yours. Between the two of us, maybe we can keep you from repeating my mistakes."
The arrangement is more supervision than I expected. Also more generous than I deserve given what I've already admitted.
"Why are you helping me?" I ask. "You could just tell Lucien to pull me from the assignment. Recommend someone less compromised."
"Because you're already the best protection she has. You know the threats, you've built infrastructure, you're invested in ways that make you hyper-vigilant." He sips his scotch. "The problem isn't your competence. It's your motivation. But motivation can be managed if you're willing to be honest about it."
"And if I can't manage it? If the obsession wins?"
"Then I pull you myself. Before you hurt her, before you become what she's running from, before the protection becomes another cage." His voice is firm. "That's the deal, Jax. Radical honesty in exchange for permission to continue. You lie to me about what you're feeling, I remove you from her protection immediately."
The terms are clear. Fair, even. And terrifying in their requirement for vulnerability.
"Deal," I say.
