"Not Mateo," I say immediately. "He's already on thin ice with her."
Ethan rubs his jaw, stubble rasping against his palm. "I should probably go. Set a professional tone."
"You seem..." I want to say invested, but instead say, "Tired. You've taken the dawn schedule. Get some shut eye. I'll go."
He looks like he might argue, then nods. "You're right. Keep it simple, professional. Establish the security protocols without compromising them."
"You act like I don't know how to talk to people, Boss."
"You don't talk to people," he points out. "That's kind of your thing."
I shrug. He's not wrong. Between the three of us, I'm the quiet one. Always have been. Ethan leads, Mateo charms, and I... observe. It's served me well over the years. People reveal more when they're trying to fill your silence than they ever do when you're asking questions.
"I'll handle it," I assure him.
"Just remember, we need her cooperation. This isn't a hostile extraction.”
"Meaning?"
“Meaning don't intimidate her into compliance."
I almost smile at that. "When have I ever?"
"Kabul, 2016," he says immediately. "That local informant who wouldn't give us the location of the weapons cache."
"He was stalling."
"Rio, 2018," Ethan continues. "That club owner who wouldn't let us access his security feeds."
"He was dirty."
"Last month, that lawyer in San Diego who..."
"Fine," I cut him off. "I get it. I'll be nice."
"I'm not asking for nice. Just... measured."
Twenty minutes later, I'm standing in Jade Sinclair's living room, watching her pace like a caged tiger. She's dressed casually: yoga pants, loose t-shirt, hair piled on top of her head, but somehow still manages to look like she could step onto a runway at any moment. The bruise at her hairline is starting to fade but remains visible, a stark purple against her fair skin.
Sophie hovers nearby, tablet in hand, looking anxious. "Would you like some coffee, Mr. Reid? Or tea? We have several kinds, or I could make a smoothie..."
"He's fine," Jade cuts her off, finallystopping her pacing to face me. "This won't take long."
Sophie nods, backing away slightly but not leaving the room. I wonder if she's always this nervous around her boss.
"Miss Sinclair," I acknowledge with a slight nod.
"Mr. Reid," she responds coolly. "I have reconciled with the idea that I need a live-in security team, but like I said yesterday, I want to establish some ground rules since it appears I'm stuck with your team for the foreseeable future."
I don't answer, just wait. Let her talk. Let her reveal herself.
"First, I value my privacy," she continues. "Your presence will be tolerated, but I expect you to be invisible when I'm working. No hovering, no interrupting photoshoots or meetings, no intimidating my colleagues or staff." She gestures to Sophie, who offers a weak smile.
"Second, I won't have my movements restricted. I go where I need to go, when I need to go there. You can secure the house, but my schedule remains mine to control."
She pauses, as if waiting for me to object. When I don't, she continues.
"Third, I don't want any of you speaking to the press. Ever. About anything. If someone approaches you claiming to be a friend, colleague, or associate of mine, you verify with me or Gloria first."
