I blink, slow. “You want to run that back?”
He doesn’t answer. Just slams a folder onto my desk. Pages fan out across the surface—diagrams, notes, and approval forms. And at the top: ZE-03 MILITARY STRAIN – REDMONT APPLICATION REVIEW.
My name.
“What the fuck is this?” he demands.
My blood ignites. I flip the first page like it might bite me, scanning the lines with building fury. Command programming. Sexual bonding protocols. Suggestion imprinting. And stamped right at the top—my name.
My fucking name.
My fists curl so tight my nails bite into my palms.How the fuck did this happen without me seeing it? Without me stopping it?I want to throw the folder through the glass wall. I want to rip something apart.
“I didn’t sign this.”
Maverick barks a laugh, ugly and bitter. “Then who the fuck did? Someone forged your signature? Or did you just stop reading the fine print the second you got your dick wet?”
I stand. “Watch it.”
He meets me toe-to-toe. “No. You watch it. She found this, Asher. Buried in the lab. Hidden. And you know what the first thing she saw was? Your name on every page.”
“I didn’t know—”
He slams his hand on the desk. “Then how the fuck was this happening under your nose? Huh? You let Patel run trials like we’re some third-world militia and didn’t even questionit?”
My jaw clenches.
“You promised we’d be better than them,” he says, voice lowering into something that stings more than a shout. “You swore we’d never become our fathers. But this? Thisisthem. The manipulation. The control. The way she was left to find outalone.You’re no better than the monsters we said we’d bury.”
That lands like a goddamn bullet to the chest.
I look away. “Where is she?”
He doesn’t move. “She’s gone.””
“What do you mean gone?”
“I mean she gave me that file, took off her necklace, told me to tell you it worked, and walked out the goddamn door.”
I’m on my feet, heart hammering. “And you let her go?”
“What the fuck was I supposed to do?” he yells. “Lock her in a room? Lie to her? I didn’t know about any of this either, Asher! And you think I’m not pissed? You think I’m notwreckedthat this happened under our noses?”
I step around the desk. “You should’ve stopped her.”
We’re nose to nose now. Two men who’ve bled together for years—and never hated each other more than we do in this moment.
“She said she loved me, and I walked away. But now...” I say, voice low and wrecked.
Maverick goes still. Whatever fire he had left smolders out.
“Oh fuck,” he mutters, running a hand through his wet hair. “She gave you everything, man. And you didn’t just drop it—you left it out in the rain and walked away.”
My phone’s in my hand before I realize it. I call her.
Voicemail.
Again.
