"I can do that."
"We make major decisions together. Things that affect both of us. Our safety. Our future. Our relationship. We're partners in this. Equal partners."
"Yes. Partners." I kissed his forehead. "What else?"
"You let me help. With security, with strategy, with whatever comes next. You don't shut me out to protect me. You let me contribute. Let me use my skills. Let me be useful."
"I will. I promise. You've already proven how valuable you are. Your articles shifted public opinion. Your research found the moles. You're brilliant and capable and I won't shut you out again."
"Good." He was quiet for a moment. Then: "What about you? What boundaries do you need?"
"I need you to stay alive. That's my only non-negotiable. Whatever risks you take, whatever choices you make—just stay alive. I can handle anything else. Just not losing you."
"I can agree to that. I'll do my best to stay alive. For you. For us. For the life we're building."
We lay there in comfortable silence. Finally at peace after two days of misery.
"I discovered something while you were gone," I said after a while. "About the moles. The investigation."
"What?"
"They weren't working alone. Someone higher up orchestrated the whole thing. Someone who knew exactly how to coordinate with the FBI raid."
Julian sat up. "What do you mean?"
"The three moles—Morrison, Chen, Wright—they were low-level. Didn't have access to the kind of information they were providing. Someone gave them access. Told them what to report. Coordinated the timing." I sat up too. "Someone inside our organization has been playing both sides."
"How do you know?"
"Financial traces. Communication patterns. The timing was too perfect. The moles reported our emergency meeting to their handler. Within hours the FBI mobilized. That level of coordination requires someone with access to our internal schedules and FBI contacts."
"Who?"
"I've narrowed it to three suspects. All trusted employees who've been with us for years. All with access to sensitive information." I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. Pulled up my notes. "David Bennett—Head of IT. Been with us four years. Has access to all our systems. Could easily give the moles access to files they shouldn't have seen."
"Makes sense."
"Patricia Greene—Senior Operations Manager. Six years. Knows all our schedules, shipments, protocols. Would know exactly when to time reports for maximum impact."
"And the third?"
"Jake Byrne. Senior accountant. Been with us five years. Works closely with Stefan on financial records. Would know exactly what financial information would interest the FBI. Could manipulate access logs to hide what he was doing."
Julian frowned. "Jake? I've worked with him. He seems—"
"I know. They all seem trustworthy. That's the problem. Whoever it is has been there long enough to earn trust. Long enough to know our systems intimately. Long enough to understand exactly how to hurt us." I set down the phone. "I presented this to Sandro yesterday. We're watching all three carefully. Seeing who makes the next move."
"Can I help? I'm good at finding patterns in data. Maybe I could review their financial records. Look for irregularities."
"Yes. I'd like that. We'll work on it together. Partners."
He smiled. "Partners."
We spent the next hour going over everything I'd found. Julian asked smart questions. Spotted connections I'd missed. Together we built a clearer picture of how the coordination must have worked.
This was what partnership looked like. Both of us contributing. Both of us trusting the other's expertise. Both of us stronger together than apart.
By the time we finished, it was after midnight.
