"Failed security training. Twice." Jax leaned forward, pulling up the next log.
"Policy violations across twelve categories."
Arthur placed April's bottleneck map at the center of his desk. The red cells caught the lamplight. Jax's eyes went to it for a second before coming back to his screen.
"Operational paralysis," Arthur said. "Twelve active projects. Nine days average delay. $847K in revenue risk."
Jax glanced at it again. Then back at his screen. "That's the kicker, isn't it? We have the how. April has the impact."
Jax glanced at the feed. April, mid-laugh, head tipped back, easy in a way he hadn't seen from her before today.
There she is.
"What's the Sterling Gala?" Jax asked, still watching the feed.
"Charity event. Liam Sterling's." Arthur didn't look up.
"We followed the rules," Jax said. "Got ignored. Why is this going to be different?"
Arthur's hand moved to his calculator. Click. Click-click. "As CFO, I have a responsibility to act on financial misconduct the moment I'm aware of its full scope." His jaw tightened. "I'm aware now."
Arthur picked up his phone. "We bring it directly to Killian. Tonight."
"So it ends tonight," Jax said.
April at the Gala. Mystery dress. Chad's takedown. A lot happening tonight.
"It ends tonight," Arthur confirmed.
Arthur set his phone down. "He's coming. Ten Minutes."
Jax sat back. Thumbs started twiddling against each other.
Arthur didn't move. Hands folded. Watching.
One minute. Maybe two.
Jax's thumbs moved faster. He shifted in the chair. Shifted back. Glanced at Arthur. Arthur hadn't blinked.
Okay. This is fine. People do this. People sit in chairs and wait for things.
Arthur sat.
Jax's leg started bouncing. Slow at first, then picking up speed until the chair creaked under it. He pressed his palm flat against his thigh. Stopped it. It started again.
How long did he say? Ten minutes? It's been ten minutes. It has to have been ten minutes.
It had not been ten minutes.
Arthur watched him.
How does he do that? How does a person just—
Jax stood up.
He walked to the bookshelf first. Scanned the spines. Every one flush, perfectly aligned, sorted by—God, were they sorted by height? They were sorted by height. His hand drifted toward one that was a millimeter off from the others.
He pulled it back.
