"The board meeting was politics. This was personal." I lean into his touch without thinking about it.
He slides one hand to the back of my neck, fingers curling into my hair. "He's good at his job. And he's right—the evidence we need is operational, not personal." He pulls me closer, his other hand settling on my hip. "Breathe."
I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until he commands it. I exhale, inhale, and feel the tension drain.
"Good girl."
The praise sends heat through me despite everything.
Luc keeps his hand on my back as we head for the parking garage, his touch steady while I pull myself back together. Outside the media vans are probably still circling, reporters still hunting for the story. But for the first time in weeks, I'm not afraid of what they'll find.
Because the truth is finally on the record. And the truth, eventually, will set me free. Even if I have to fight for every inch of that freedom.
The drive back to the Pascal estate takes the same counter-surveillance route in reverse. Luc checks mirrors, scans intersections, maintains the tactical awareness that's become background noise to my life now. His palm returns to my thigh, that solid weight anchoring me.
I lean my head against the window and watch New Orleans slide past.
My phone buzzes. Text from Henry:
Meeting with legal counsel tomorrow morning. Coordinating board strategy. You did well at the board meeting.
I show Luc the message. He glances at it, nods, but doesn't comment. His attention stays on the road, on the threat assessment, on keeping me safe.
We're almost to the estate when his phone rings. He answers on speaker.
"Talk to me."
"It's Andy. Got something." The detective's voice carries an edge I haven't heard before. Excitement mixed with controlled anger. "We traced the signal from the hidden camera at Dominion. The one Julien planted."
Luc's palm tightens on my thigh. His voice stays level, but I feel the shift in him—predator recognizing prey. "Where?"
"LaCroix Petroleum. The feed was routed through the building's maintenance room." Andy pauses. "Whoever's monitoring that camera has been doing it from inside the company's headquarters."
The words hit like a physical blow. Someone at LaCroix Petroleum. Someone with access to the building's infrastructure. Someone who's been watching the live feed of Dominion's private rooms from inside my own company.
"Armand," I breathe.
"Or someone working for him," Andy says. "I'm getting a warrant. We're going to sweep the maintenance room, pull server logs, find out exactly who's been accessing that feed."
"When?" Luc's tone goes flat and hard.
"Tomorrow morning. Early, before the building's fully staffed." Andy's tone sharpens. "This is it. This is the evidence that connects your uncle directly to the surveillance operation. Once we have proof he was monitoring that feed from inside LaCroix Petroleum, the board won't be able to ignore it."
"And if the warrant doesn't produce evidence?" I ask quietly.
"Then we keep building the case," Andy says. "But I'm good at my job. If there's proof in that maintenance room, I'll find it." He pauses. "And when I do, he's finished."
The call ends. Luc and I sit in silence as he pulls through the estate gates. He pulls into the guest house drive, kills the engine, and turns to face me fully. He cups the back of my neck, thumb stroking the pulse point there.
His grip on my neck tightens. "Inside. Now."
"Yes, Sir."
"This is the connection we needed." His voice is dark with certainty. "Tomorrow, Andy executes that warrant and we get proof. Then your uncle learns what happens when someone threatens what's mine."
The claim in his tone should probably worry me. Instead, it steadies my breathing.
"What if Armand's already covered his tracks?"
