“Fair.” Cal stood, casual and controlled, leaving the folder on the table between us. “Take your time. Read through everything. See if it changes how you think about your sister's death. Then decide whether you'd rather work with me or keep pretending you can do this alone.”
He got three steps toward the door before turning back. “One more thing. Ask Adrian about Harrow. See what he tells you. Then ask yourself why he's been keeping that information from you.”
He left. I sat alone with the folder, mind replaying every word and gesture and implication, filing it all away with the clarity I couldn't shut off even when I wanted to. Then I gathered the documents, left money for his pint, and walked out into afternoon light that felt too bright for the darkness settling in my chest.
I foundAdrian in his office at Ravenswood three hours later, after I'd read through Cal's documents twice and committed every detail to memory.
Adrian sat behind his desk while Noah sat in one of the leather chairs, a book in his lap, the quiet presence that softened Adrian's edges without diminishing his danger.
Adrian's expression didn't change. “What do you need, Dom?”
“I need you to tell me about Harrow.” I closed the door behind me, didn't bother sitting because sitting felt like submission. “How long have you known his name was connected to Lily's case?”
Adrian didn't blink, didn't shift, just watched me with the cold calculation that made men confess to crimes they hadn't committed because lying to him felt more dangerous than truth.
“Six months,” he said finally. Flat and emotionless, delivered like a weather report.
My hands curled into fists at my sides, the urge to put one through his desk warring with the discipline that kept me functional.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I don't answer to you. I kept you in the dark because dead men don't work for me, and you would have gotten yourself killed within a week. That's not disrespect. That's asset management.”
“I don't need protection. I need the truth.”
“What you need is irrelevant.” Adrian stood slowly. “What keeps you breathing is what matters. The truth gets people killed when they're not ready for it. And you weren't ready. Still aren't,judging by the fact that you're standing in my office making demands instead of asking questions like someone with sense.”
“I'm asking now.” My jaw tightened. “What else do you know that you haven't told me?”
“Not enough. Harrow's careful. His corruption isn't individual crimes but infrastructure. He's built a machine that turns justice into commodity.” Adrian circled his desk. “Your sister's case was part of that machine.”
“Six months.” My voice came out rougher than I meant it to, anger bleeding through control I usually kept locked down. “Six months you've known and you said nothing. Let me tear myself apart looking for answers you already had.”
“I had suspicions. Not answers.”
“Rubbish. You had Harrow's name, the connection — that's more than I've had in three years of beating my head against walls. And you kept it from me like I'm some child who can't handle the truth.”
“Watch your tone.”
“Or what? You'll cut me off? Throw me out?” I stepped closer, letting the anger show, letting him see exactly how done I was with being managed. “You kept me in the dark about my sister's death. About the man who buried her case. About evidence that proves she didn't get justice. Don't pretend that was for my protection. That was control.”
“It was both.” Something dangerous flickered behind his eyes, though his voice never rose. “You weren't ready. Still aren't.”
“I'm done asking questions nobody answers. Done being told to wait while people who are supposed to give a damn sit on information that matters. She was my sister. Not your asset. Not your problem to manage. Mine.”
“And you're my responsibility.” Adrian closed the distance between us faster than I anticipated. “I kept you breathingfor three years. Kept you functional when grief would have destroyed you. Gave you structure, purpose, protection. And you're standing in my office acting like I owe you something beyond what I've already given.”
“You owe me honesty.”
“I owe you nothing. Everything you have, you have because I chose to give it. The second you stop being useful, the second you become more liability than asset, that ends. Going after Harrow the way you're thinking about going after him makes you a liability.”
Noah set his book down. “Adrian. That's enough.”
“Stay out of this.” Adrian kept his gaze locked on mine. “Dom needs to understand what he's risking.”
“What I'm risking?” The laugh that came out of me was bitter. “What if Harrow moved in those six months? Destroyed more evidence? Killed more witnesses? Would you have told me then? Or would you have kept playing protector while my sister's killer walked free?”
“You go after Harrow alone, you die.”
