Then Graham’s voice lowers, almost gentle. “You left without understanding the consequences.”
Ellie’s response is immediate, and it’s not soft. “The consequence is you don’t get to own me anymore.”
Levi lets out a low sound of approval beside me.
I crack the back door open a fraction and slip inside like smoke. The back room is dim. I move fast, silent, keeping to the shadows between shelves.
Ellie is near the front display, standing tall. Graham stands across from her, suit perfect, posture relaxed. But his eyes are sharp now, irritated by the interruption, calculating.
Captain Saxon walks through the doorway like the embodiment of authority, calm and hard-eyed. He scans the room once, takes in Graham, then Ellie, then the tension, and his gaze narrows.
Graham smooths his jacket like he’s the victim here. “Captain Cole, is it? I’m handling a private matter with my?—”
“Ex,” Ellie cuts in, sweet as poison.
Graham’s smile tightens. “Ellie.” His gaze flicks toward Saxon, trying to regain control. “This is a legal issue. Ellie is in default. I’m offering her a chance to?—”
Ellie lifts her chin. “To crawl.”
Graham’s eyes flash. “To resolve this quietly.”
Ellie’s voice stays steady. “You’re here to scare me.”
Graham’s smile turns thin. “You should be scared. You don’t have the leverage you think you do.”
Ellie’s phone shifts in her hand just slightly, her thumb pressing again.
Graham’s eyes drop to the phone.
His gaze sharpens.
I see it—the exact moment he clocks what she’s doing. The way his focus narrows like a predator locking onto prey. I suspect she’s been recording him and now he knows.
Ellie sees it too.
She doesn’t move.
She holds her ground.
Maddie’s coaching in action. Sadie’s courage in her spine. Her own stubborn fire.
Graham’s voice goes low. “Are you recording me?”
Ellie smiles, small and bright and lethal. “Why? Planning to say something you don’t want anyone to hear?”
Saxon’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes sharpen to steel.
Graham’s calm cracks. It’s subtle, but it’s there—irritation turning into anger because he’s losing control of the narrative.
“You little—” he starts, then catches himself, swallowing the word before it becomes evidence.
Too late.
Ellie’s phone catches the slip anyway.
Graham’s jaw tightens. “Give me that.”
Ellie takes a step back, phone still in her hand. “No.”
