"You're lying."
Her jaw tightens. "I'm tired, Gabriel. That's all. Is that not allowed?"
The edge in her voice is new. Sharp, defensive—the tone of someone protecting a secret. I've heard it a thousand times from business rivals, from Brotherhood members with something to hide, from men who underestimated how much I could see.
I never expected to hear it from her.
"Of course it's allowed," I say carefully. "I'm just concerned. You've seemed... off today."
"Off how?"
"Distracted. Distant." I stop in front of her, close enough to touch but not touching. "Like something happened that you're not telling me about."
For a moment, I think she's going to break. I see the hesitation in her eyes, the war between truth and concealment. Her lips part, and I wait for the confession I can feel hovering just beneath the surface.
Then she looks away.
"Nothing happened," she says. "I'm just tired. I think I need some time alone tonight, if that's okay."
It's not okay. Nothing about this is okay. But I can hear the finality in her voice, the door closing between us, and I know that pushing harder will only make it worse.
"Of course," I say. "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."
I leave her room and close the door behind me, my mind already racing through possibilities.
Something happened at the market. Something she doesn't want me to know about.
And I need to find out what.
***
Hutton's report comes within the hour.
I'm in my study, staring at documents I'm not reading, when my phone buzzes with his name. I answer before the first ring finishes.
"Tell me."
"Zachary Mercer was spotted near the flower market this morning, sir. Approximately two hours before your florist arrived."
My hand tightens on the phone. "Near the market, or in it?"
"In it. Our surveillance caught him entering the main building at 9:47 AM. He left at 11:23 AM—roughly fifteen minutes after Ms. Rivers completed her purchases."
Fifteen minutes. Long enough to approach her. Long enough to have a conversation. Long enough to plant whatever poison he's been preparing.
"Did they make contact?"
"We don't have visual confirmation of direct interaction. The market's interior cameras are limited, and our operative lost sight of him in the crowd." A pause. "But the timing strongly suggests they spoke."
Of course they spoke. That's why she's been hiding in her room for two hours. That's why she can't look me in the eye.
Zach got to her. And she didn't tell me.
"What else?"
"We're still working on the Linda Rivers investigation. The trail goes cold around the time of the name change—professionally cold, as you suspected. Someone with significant resources scrubbed her history."
"Brotherhood resources?"
