Clear.
Norah was somewhere ahead, walking beside the man who’d smiled while undermining him, touching her back like she was an asset he owned.
That was the only danger that mattered.
He strode down the corridor, following the directions Stephen fed him through his earpiece. As he wound through themaze of hidden hallways, Hale’s voice grew closer. It bounced off the walls—smooth, coaxing, full of the political reassurance that made people forget to ask questions.
“—extraordinary poise tonight, Norah,” Hale was saying warmly as Marshall rounded the corner. “Truly. I knew you’d be an asset to Senator Morris. You handled yourself beautifully.”
Marshall stopped short of entering the alcove, staying just out of sight long enough to hear Hale’s next line.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with...that man. I’ll make sure it’s handled.” His tone softened. “I’ll always protect you. You know that, don’t you?”
A low growl emanated from somewhere in Marshall’s chest. Hale would protect her? That was Marshall’s job.
He stepped into view.
Norah froze first—mid-breath, mid-step. He could still read the heartbreak in her eyes. Her face shuttered instantly, but not fast enough to hide the rawness.
Hale’s hand tightened possessively at the small of her back as he turned. “Ah,” he said, disappointment dripping like syrup. “Mr. Kincaid. I had hoped the security team had removed you by now.”
“They tried,” Marshall said.
He could still feel Norah’s expression from a minute ago. She’d looked at him like he was the one who’d set the trap instead of the one trying to pull her out of it. Like he had betrayed her. It clung to him like bruises under the skin.
Hale’s smile thinned. “It would appear I need to let the senator know her security team is lacking.”
Norah stared at him without softness. There was no glimmer of the girl who once trusted him with everything she had. Just rigid, careful composure. Like she’d rebuilt a wall in the ten minutes since she’d walked away from him.
It shouldn’t have hit him the way it did.
“Marshall,” she said quietly, “you shouldn’t be here.”
He felt the words like a punch. There was a tremor of fury beneath them. And she was aiming all of it at him.
A dozen responses burned through him. Explanations. Apologies. The truth. He chose the one thing that still mattered.
“I’m not leaving you with him.”
Her jaw shook enough for him to see the crack she was trying desperately to hide.
“Stop.”
He took half a step toward her without meaning to. “Norah?—”
“Stop.” Louder this time. Sharper. A blade edge. A boundary drawn to keep herself from shattering.
He halted. Because he recognized that sound. He’d used it once, too—the day he chose his country over her. Desperate to hold himself together in the face of her rejection. It felt a thousand times worse on the receiving end.
Hale angled himself slightly in front of her, posture protective, voice low and sympathetically pained. “Norah, I hate that this is happening. Truly. I hate that I have to put you in this position.” He sighed, a masterful imitation of regret. “But sometimes...unpleasant measures must be taken when danger is involved.
“You are making my associate uncomfortable,” Hale said firmly. “And I don’t tolerate anyone jeopardizing my team.”
Marshall took a step closer. Hale didn’t flinch, though Norah did. He saw the tremor ripple up her spine. She wasn’t rejecting him because she believed Hale.
She was rejecting Marshall because she didn’t trusthim.
Marshall swallowed the grief clawing up his throat. Later. He could feel it later.
