“Good.”
I frown.“How is that good?”
“Because if he spent his days and nights inside your buildings, this could take a while.A guy like that’s too smart to email from his work email, if he makes any phone calls to clients it’ll likely be from an untraceable source—one we can’t monitor.”
“And if he meets with anyone within the walls of The Sanctuary, it won’t look suspicious.He knows everyone.That’s his job.”
“Exactly.”
I stand and pace.“Alicia, I can’t let this go on indefinitely.I can give it a couple of days tops.Then I need to kick him out and clean house.I agreed to let?—”
“Patience,” she says, calm, unflappable.
Madame Vassante’s voice echoes again:The Fool rushes in where angels fear to tread.
“Alicia, this leak could end everything.If this breaks?—”
“Then you want answers first,” she cuts in.“Because if this leaks and you don’t know who he’s working with, you’ll be fielding chaos from every member on your roster.”
She’s right.The Sanctuary’s secrets aren’t only sexual—they’re financial, political, personal.Discretion is our currency.And Eddie’s theft is an act of war.
I glance again toward the street below.Cars nose into tight spaces.The city breathes its usual chaos.And somewhere out there, Brie might be watching—surveilling, waiting.The image strikes me like a pulse.
“I refuse to believe he’s been selling information for years,” I say.“If he had, someone would’ve come forward.Crawford did, and within a week, you had me in your office.”
“Yes, but Crawford’s situation was unique,” she says.“Most of what Eddie sells isn’t intimate footage—it’s intel.Meetings, mergers, trades.The kind of information that destroys portfolios, not marriages.”
“Insider trading,” I murmur.“So that’s your other client.”
“Give it time, Adrien.”Her tone suggests patience is a luxury I’ve yet to afford.
“Just remember,” I tell her, voice low, “if this leaks, I become your highest priority.That was the deal.”
“Understood.”
If this leaks to the membership, I might as well hand Eddie matches and watch my investment burn.
My gaze drifts back to the window.From up here, every parking space is full.The street below hums with anonymity.Is she down there?Sitting in one of those cars, eyes on my door, waiting for Eddie to move?The idea of her out there—alone, observing through glass—does something to me I can’t name.
Lunch?
I send the text before I can stop myself.
If she’s nearby, maybe she’ll come in.Maybe she’ll step out from behind her work and see me instead of the assignment.
Every thought, every breath, every instinct leads back to her.I used to think obsession was weakness.Now I understand—it’s the mark she left on me.The space she occupies.
The tower hasn’t fallen yet.
But I can already feel the cracks.
ChapterSixteen
Brie
“He’s headed for Wall Street,” Noah’s voice cracks through the comm.
I glance down at the sensible shoes and thrift-store skirt.“Copy that—but I’m still your seventy-year-old with a cane.”My persona blends in a city park, but it’ll stick out more downtown.“Who else do we have out there?”
