He didn’t wait for a reply. “What would they say if they knew where you spent your Saturday evenings.”
My head snapped in his direction.
What the hell?
His lips turned into an evil smirk, and my blood ran cold. He leaned in. “You need to drop this witch hunt, Ms. Rhodes, if you know what’s good for you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” We’d been discreet, but with the code and reports we were pulling, it wasn’t a surprise people were talking. Micah had pulled in a couple of people to check on the thing with the Stevenson account earlier with Hales’ blessing. Was that what he was talking about, or was it the accounting thing?
Stan laughed under his breath. “Come on, Mira. You’re smarter than that.”
I hated how he used my name. We weren’t on first-name basis nor would we ever be.
My stomach knotted. The elevator hummed, moving too slow. I needed to get out of here. Could I just get out on a random floor?
“What I’m talking about is you digging where you shouldn’t. Pissing off vendors you shouldn’t.”
“I’m doing no such thing.” I stepped to the side but his fingers dug into my biceps, shoving me back against the cold metal wall.
“Let go of me.” As scared as I was, it didn’t come out in my tone. Talk about a small mercy. I couldn’t let him know he had the upper hand. I needed to keep my cool.
His grip tightened. “Tell Mr. Reid, you made a mistake. Hell, you made it up. If he doesn’t move on, no one will get paid this month and what about next? It’s in everyone’s best interest for this to go away.”
I squared my jaw. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, you do.” His smile twisted, something dark and triumphant flickering in his eyes. “You think you’re so damn clever. But you’re not untouchable.”
I dragged in a breath, forcing myself not to shy away. “Let. Me. Go.”
He didn’t. If anything, his thumbs pressed harder into the inside of my arms, and white-hot pain flared beneath my skin.
“Let me put it this way,” he whispered. “You stop this—or your friend Micah takes the fall. And I’ll make sure everyone in this building knows exactly where you spend your Saturday nights.”
The world seemed to tilt for a beat.
My heart stalled.
He couldn’t possibly know. He couldn’t. I’d been careful. Sanctum had protocols for everything. Short of the time I’d gone with Micah and Noah, I had used their private entrance.
But the way he looked at me
The certainty in his voice.
It felt like a blade pressed beneath my ribs.
“Get your hands off me,” I said again, but this time the edge in my tone was razor-sharp.
The doors chimed.
Stan finally released me, stepping back just as the elevator slid open—but not far enough. His shoulder brushed mine as he exited the elevator.He paused at the threshold, glancing back.
“Clock’s ticking, Ms. Rhodes.” He pulled out his phone and punched a few buttons. A second later, my phone dinged and there it was. A photo of me walking out of Sanctum timestamped. “I would hate for everyone to know you hang out there.”
Then he walked away like he hadn’t just threatened my career, my friend, my life. What would people think? Whatwould Sebastian think if he knew how I spent my Saturday evenings. How did he know?
The doors closed again, leaving me alone with the lingering sting on my arms and the crushing realization that this wasn’t just about missing money anymore. As much of an eel Stan was, I had a feeling he knew exactly where the money was. Maybe that was the problem. We’d been focusing on an external threat unit recently but what if it had been under our noses this whole time.
Would he really pin this on Micah? Could I fix this before all of it came crashing down?
