“You can.” His tone snapped sharper than he intended, echoing the old arguments they’d had—her digging in, him trying to protect her by shutting her out. “You just won’t.”
Her breath faltered, but only for a second. “If there’s fraud, it matters. I’m not going to walk away just because it’s messy.”
He leaned in across the desk, close enough that memory tried to claw its way into the moment. “You always had to dig. Always had to prove you were right, no matter the cost.”
“And you always thought you could decide which costs I could bear.” Her chin lifted, unflinching. “That’s not your call anymore.”
Something twisted in him—familiar, painful. “If you keep at this, you’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Then maybe you should stop trying to control me and start telling me why you care.” Her eyes searched his, desperate for an answer he refused to give.
For a long beat, neither spoke. The air between them hummed, heavy with what they weren’t saying—fifteen years of silence, regret, and the kind of wound you couldn’t cauterize no matter how hard you tried.
He stood, straightened his jacket, tamping down the words pressing too close. “Because if you keep going, you’ll regret it.”
Her laugh was short, humorless. “That’s not an answer. That’s a threat.”
“It’s a warning.” His gaze locked on hers. “One I shouldn’t even be giving.” Marshall softened, showing his hand. Emotion was something he normally locked away, but he let her see it this time. “Please stay out of it, Norah.”
Her chin lifted a fraction. “My job is due diligence. I found an inconsistency. I follow it.”
“This is not an inconsistency!” he urged, shaking his head in disbelief. She was so darn stubborn. “It’s a freaking fuse ready to ignite.”
“And you’ve decided you’re the one who gets to cut it.”
“I’ve decided you’re not going to be standing next to it when it blows.” Not on his watch. She might not be his anymore, but he would still make sure she was safe.
Her eyes didn’t soften, but her voice did. “You don’t get to decide for me.”
The silence stretched, heavy, until voices sounded outside the office. Norah’s mask snapped back into place just before the door opened.
“Mr. Kincaid,” she said brightly, her tone smooth enough to fool anyone but him. “Thanks for stopping by. I’ll have our team follow up.”
Marshall shook her hand as though they were nothing but acquaintances and let himself be walked to the elevators, abandoning his hope to get to the server room today. He dropped Simmons badge in the corner of the elevator before exiting on the ground floor and walking outside. He stepped out into the wind, loosened his tie, and pulled his phone from his pocket.
Marshall’s thumb hovered on the call list before he hit Joey’s name.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Kincaid. Miranda said you looked quite dashing in your tie,” Joey said as she answered.
Marshall rolled his eyes. “Don’t you two have better things to do than gossip about the men of Black Tower?”
“Don’t deny us our fun. There has to be some benefit to being surrounded by all this testosterone. We used the security camera to watch Jackson do the salmon ladder in the gym yesterday.”
Marshall barked a laugh. “If Jackson knew you were watching, he’d probably sell tickets.”
“You and I both know he would comp Miranda’s. He’d do anything for that girl. Are they ever going to date?”
He grunted. “Jackson claims they are just friends.”
Joey sighed. “Miranda says the same thing. Whatever. Tell me what you got today.”
Marshall shifted gears easily. “Server room is badge and passcode protected. I couldn’t get in. Not sure who has access, but it wasn’t the mid-level fund manager I met with.”
Joey grunted. “Figures. Okay, we’ll figure something out. What about who has been making waves? Any idea what they’re looking into?”
“It’s definitely about NorthBridge,” Marshall said. “I actually found the source, and they are zeroed in on them. Sounds like they’ve got suspicions of fraud.”
He was desperately trying to hold back his personal connection. But he couldn’t stop himself from giving the next order. “We need to shield them.”
