“Just coffee’s fine, thanks.”
My phone vibrates, and Hudson’s name flashes.I lift the phone and say to Adrien, “Work,” stepping into the living room to answer.“Hi, Hudson.”
“You’re with d’Avricourt?”
“Yes,” I answer and behind me I hear Adrien instruct Maria, “She’ll have the same egg-white omelet I’m having.With fruit.”
That’s exactly what I would have requested—how did he know?The answer settles warm in my chest: he’s been paying attention.Not just to threats and security concerns, but to me.The real me.It’s such a small thing, knowing my breakfast preference, but it feels enormous.Because it feels less like fleeting attraction and lust.
I brush away the thought and focus on the call with Hudson.
“I’m going to join Adrien as he makes personnel changes.”
“He’s letting Eddie go?”
“That’s the plan.”
“We’ll monitor reactions.I’ve got Jake and Noah scheduled for perimeter support, but should I have them meet you inside?”
“No, but if things go sideways, you can send them in.”
“Will do.”
“Has he surfaced?”
“Negative on CCTV and inside The Sanctuary.”Hudson’s tone has an edge that means he’s juggling multiple variables.I know the feeling.“He might be avoiding the place entirely.”
Interesting.If he’s a no-show, then we won’t learn much, other than he likely has no plans of returning.
“Does this mean Adrien’s looping in his security team?”
“Affirmative.”We tapped the staff work phones, but given any complicit party likely communicates on a personal device, that’s a partial view of staff reactions.
“I’ll have Quinn pull in backup to monitor.”
“Copy.Are you back in NC?”
“No.I’m pursuing information on Moira Kelly.I’ll touch base later.”
When the call ends, Adrien and I eat breakfast, then head out for the day.Given the plans ahead, it all feels remarkably normal.
We stop by his office first, which is across the street from The Sanctuary.Only when we enter, an assistant greets him at the elevator.
“Mr.d’Avricourt, your sister is here.”
“In the building?”
“Yes, sir.She arrived five minutes ago.I just made her a coffee.She told me she’d wait until you got in and not to bother you, that you weren’t picking up your phone.”
His assistant is a young man with a shaved head and a suit jacket with sleeves that fall almost to his knuckles, but below his sleeve hem, his fingers rub each other in one of the oddest nervous tics I’ve ever seen.
I follow behind Adrien, watching as his assistant trails by his side, so on edge I wonder if Adrien is prone to snapping at assistants.
Adrien lengthens his strides and slows only once he’s in sight of his sister.Margot d’Avricourt looks exactly like her photos but moves with more energy, more presence.She’s poised, like the photos, but in person, there’s a liveliness to her that film doesn’t catch.Her dark hair is pulled back, and as I step closer, I’m struck by the unnatural color of her eyes, yellow like a tiger.The longer I study them, I become convinced that they’re color contacts.
She turns those eyes on me, ignoring her brother when he greets her with, “Margot.What are you doing here?”
“Who is this?”She pushes up from the sofa, eyeing me like I’m a curious bauble.She’s protective of Adrien—I can see it in how she positions herself, how her attention sharpens when she looks at me.I respect that, even if it makes this conversation more complicated.
