He kisses me again, deeper this time, his hands sliding under the hem of my oversized sweater. The war is waiting for us tomorrow. Preston is waiting. The media is waiting.
But tonight, in the dark, quiet isolation of the safe house, I am exactly where I belong.
CHAPTER 28
MALCOLM
The digital clock on the encrypted laptop reads 11:45 AM.
Fifteen minutes.
I am sitting at the metal desk in the corner of the safe house, staring at the screen. The loft is quiet, the heavy blast-proof windows blocking out the noise of the city completely. The only sound is the rhythmic, mechanical hum of the server tower sitting on the floor next to my boots.
I have spent the last three hours tracking the internal communications of the Vance holding company. The network is completely dark. No emails. No internal memos. The silence is not a sign of peace; it is a sign of a massive, coordinated panic. Preston knows the federal prosecutor received the files. He is likely sitting in his office right now, surrounded by a dozen corporate defense attorneys, trying to figure out how to stop a leak that is already out of his control.
He can't stop it.
"Is it happening?"
I turn my head.
Audrey is walking out of the bathroom. She is wearing the same jeans and oversized sweater from yesterday. Her hair is damp, falling in loose waves around her shoulders. She looks rested,but there is a sharp, undeniable tension in the way she holds her shoulders.
"Not yet," I say, leaning back in the metal chair. "David is holding the story until noon. He wants to ensure maximum visibility during the lunch hour."
She walks over to the desk, stopping next to my chair. She looks at the laptop screen, her eyes scanning the lines of code and the open email client.
"You haven't slept," she murmurs, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder.
"I slept for four hours." I reach up, covering her hand with mine. "It was sufficient."
"Four hours is a nap, Malcolm, not sleep." She traces the collar of my t-shirt with her thumb. "Are you nervous?"
I look up at her. The question is genuine. She isn't asking if I am afraid of Preston; she is asking if I am mourning the absolute destruction of the life I built.
"No," I reply, my voice completely steady. "I am calculating."
"Calculating what?"
"The blast radius." I turn my chair slightly, pulling her closer so she is standing between my knees. I rest my hands on her hips. "When the article drops, the board will immediately suspend Preston pending an internal investigation. The stock will plummet. Simon will attempt to distance himself, but the forged zoning permits carry his signature. He will be indicted by the end of the week."
"And Preston?"
"Preston will not wait for an indictment." I look at the clock.11:52 AM."He will attempt to leave the country. I havealready flagged his passport and his private jet with the federal authorities. They will intercept him at O'Hare."
Audrey lets out a slow breath, her hands sliding from my shoulders to rest against my chest. "You really thought of everything."
"I am thorough."
"I know." She leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. "I’m glad you’re on my side."
"I am not on your side, Audrey," I murmur, my hands tightening on her waist. "I am your side."
She smiles, a small, quiet expression that completely dismantles the cold, tactical machinery in my brain.
Before I can pull her down into my lap, the laptop on the desk emits a sharp, electronic chime.
We both freeze.
