“He’s questioned her neighbors multiple times, including the building manager, two tenants on her floor, and the man who rents the parking space near hers.” Viktor pulls up a separate log. “He showed a photo of Aurora and asked whether anyone had seen her recently or noticed unfamiliar vehicles. The parking space neighbor told Hayes he hadn’t seen Aurora in over a month and asked why a homicide detective was looking for a nightclub hostess. Hayes told him it was routine follow-up.”
I scoff. “Routine follow-up that nobody authorized.”
“Exactly. The visits are logged in his activity reports, and none of them were cleared by his lieutenant. He’s creatinga documented pattern of unauthorized contact that internal affairs is assembling into a formal review.”
I lean back in my chair. “He’s going off the books.”
Viktor closes the file. “The official investigation is slipping away from him. The Echelon investigation is stalling. There’s no body, no physical evidence, and the only witness he can’t account for is Aurora. His department is losing patience, and Hayes is losing perspective.”
“He’s stopped caring about Dominic entirely.” I stand and walk to the window without seeing the view. “He’s focused exclusively on finding Aurora, and the investigation is just the mechanism that gives him access to the tools.”
“I agree. The question is what he does when internal affairs cracks down on him. He’ll lose database access, warrant authority, and the institutional cover that makes his search look legitimate. At that point, he becomes a private citizen with a grudge and a detective’s knowledge of how investigations work.”
I stiffen. “That makes him more dangerous.”
Viktor nods. “More desperate too. Desperate men make mistakes, but they also take risks that rational people avoid.” He pauses. “There’s one more thing. Rebecca Fischer called my secure line this morning. After the parking lot confrontation, Marisol was shaken enough that Fischer considered filing for a restraining order. Marisol refused, said she won’t give Eric the satisfaction, but Fischer thinks the incident strengthens the harassment case significantly.”
“Marisol has more spine than most people I employ.”
“She does. Fischer also mentioned that Eric’s lieutenant has been quietly reassigning case responsibilities. Hayes still holds the Echelon file officially, but two junior detectives are now handling witness follow-ups. Hayes may not realize that yet, and when he does, it’ll accelerate whatever he’s planning.”
I note it and turn to the restructuring documents. The legal work is progressing faster than I expected. My attorneys identified three operations that can be closed without disruption, two that need to be sold to allied interests, and one that requires a handoff to Viktor’s network in the Caribbean. The timeline is aggressive, and every piece of it depends on neutralizing Karpov first.
“Any movement from Karpov?”
“He’s been silent for nine days. Grigor’s monitoring shows no new searches for the archive, no outreach to former Echelon employees, and no communication with his usual Miami contacts. He’s either regrouping or planning something we can’t see yet.”
I scowl. “I prefer the one I can see.”
“So do I.” Viktor pockets his tablet. “Aurora is with Marisol right now. Fedor has her covered. I’ll update you when she’s back.”
That evening,Aurora settles on the couch with the course catalog and starts reading descriptions aloud. She’s been studying the program materials since she came home this afternoon, and the excitement from her arrival hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s sharpened as she works through the specifics.
“Beverage Industry Operations. Food and Beverage Cost Control. Hospitality Revenue Management.” She looks up from the catalog. “These are exactly what I need. The cost control course alone covers everything Dominic was doing wrong with Echelon’s purchasing. The next intake is in three months.”
“I’ll have Viktor’s team vet the campus and the route before you start attending. We should also assess the parking, building security, and emergency protocols.” I pull up my phone and start making notes. “Student housing is off the table. You’ll commute from wherever we’re staying, and the schedule will need to be coordinated with Fedor’s availability.”
She gets quiet.
I look up from my phone to find her watching me with an expression I recognize from the night she told me her limbo wasn’t a life. The excitement is gone. In its place is something careful and hurt. “What did I do?”
“You just planned my entire college experience in thirty seconds without asking me a single question about what I want.”
Campus vetting. Route assessment. Student housing off the table. Schedule coordinated with Fedor. I hear my own words differently now, delivered in the same operational tone I use when briefing Viktor, as decisions instead of suggestions. “I was trying to make it safe for you to attend.”
“I know what you were trying to do.” She sets down her water and faces me fully. “You were trying to protect me, and I believe you mean that. I’m telling you what I just heard sounded too close to every man who has ever offered safety as a way to stay in charge.”
The comparison stings, and I react to it before I can moderate my response. “I’m nothing like Eric Hayes. He used control to make you smaller. I’m trying to make room for the life you told me you wanted.”
“I believe you mean that too.” She doesn’t raise her voice, which makes it worse because the calm is deliberate and earned. “The problem isn’t your intention, Adrian. The problem is that I’ve heard generous-sounding logistics from men before, and every time, the logistics became the leash. Eric didn’t lock my doors. He just scheduled my life until I forgot I could schedule it myself.”
I take a deep breath before responding. She’s not calling me Eric. She’s telling me the pattern exists whether I mean it to, and my different intentions don’t change how it sounds to Aurora, who spent years learning to hear exactly that sound. “What do you want me to do differently?”
“Ask me before you plan. Include me in the logistics instead of delivering them. Let me decide whether student housing is off the table after I’ve looked at it myself.” She stands and picks up the course catalog. “I trust you with my safety. I need to trust myself with my life, and I can’t do that if you’re building the structure around it before I’ve decided what shape I want it to be.”
“I hear you.”
“I hope so. Because you heard me about the limbo conversation too, and you agreed with me then, and ten minutes into a conversation about my education, you defaulted to the same pattern.” She holds the catalog against her chest. “I need you to understand that this isn’t about tonight. This is about everynight after tonight, and whether I can bring you good news without it turning into a security briefing.”
