"Weak motive doesn't mean no motive." I turn to the comm. "Andy, when you finish at the warehouse, start pulling financials on Patricia Moreau and Mateo Santos. Look for unusual expenditures. Payments to contractors. Anything that might fund this operation. Work on the warrants."
"Will do."
Remy stands. "It's late. Board meeting coming up. Simone needs rest."
He's right. But I don't want to stop. Not when Julien's location is unknown and his phone is dark. Not when pieces are still missing.
"Andy, keep monitoring Julien's phone. It pings, I want to know immediately." I gather my notes. "Margot, increase security at Dominion. No one enters private areas without two-person verification. Finish background checks on everyone who accessed the building today."
"Done."
We head to the SUV and I open the passenger door. She slides in without protest.
We're halfway to the estate when she breaks the silence.
"You think it's not just Julien," she says.
"Julien's part of it. So is your uncle. But we don't know if it stops there." Mirrors show the road clear behind us. "Could be just the two of them. Could be someone else working with Armand. Patricia. Mateo. Someone we haven't identified yet."
"Could be both."
"Could be."
I let her process. Sometimes silence is better than filling space with words that don't help.
The estate appears through the trees. Security lights illuminate the main house and guest house. Everything looks secure, but I run through my mental checklist anyway.Perimeter clear. Motion sensors active. Cameras operational. No alerts.
I park near the guest house. Cut the engine. Neither of us moves.
"Thank you," Simone says quietly. "For tonight. For Henry. For all of it."
"That's the job."
"Is it?" She turns to face me. "Because it felt like more than just operational necessity back there."
The scene at Dominion. She's talking about what happened before we discovered the camera. When I pushed her past performance into actual surrender. When I claimed her in ways that had nothing to do with protection details.
"We needed to sell it," I say. Keep my voice level. "Make whoever was watching believe you're under my protection."
"And did we? Sell it, I mean."
I meet her gaze. "Yes."
Her eyes search my face. Understanding. Relief, maybe.
Because it did affect me. Watching her finally let go. Feeling her surrender. Knowing I was the one who broke through years of performance to reach the real woman underneath. That wasn't part of the tactical plan. That was me wanting her in ways that have nothing to do with keeping her safe.
I'm emotionally invested. Caring about an asset I'm supposed to be protecting with professional detachment. Every tactical instinct says that's dangerous.
I don't give a fuck. She's mine.
"Get some rest," I tell her. "Tomorrow's going to be hard. You're standing in front of your board admitting you're being stalked. They're going to have questions. Some of them won't be kind."
"I know." She opens the door. Pauses. "Luc? Earlier, when you said I finally felt the difference between performing and actually submitting?"
"Yeah."
"You were right. About all of it." She looks back at me. "I've spent years pretending I was brave enough to surrender when all I was doing was chasing endorphins and maintaining control. Tonight was the first time I actually let go. And it terrified me. Still terrifies me."
