Except I had.
And that pissed me off.
I dried off and moved to the closet.
Normally, I grabbed whatever was clean and expensive—Tom Ford, Brioni, Zegna, it didn’t matter. Power dressed the same in any label.
But today, I stood there longer than I should have.
I pulled out a charcoal suit. Put it back. Too severe.
Navy. Too corporate.
Black. Too funeral.
I settled on slate gray—Ermenegildo Zegna, custom-tailored, with a crisp white shirt and no tie. Professional but not cold. Approachable but still in control.
I dressed slowly, buttoning each button with the same care I used when loading a clip or signing a contract. When I looked in the mirror, I saw exactly what I wanted the world to see.
Wealth. Power. Control.
A man who had everything.
Except the one thing that mattered.
I turned away from my reflection and headed downstairs.
The estate was silent at this hour. No staff yet. No Syx lurking in hallways. Just me and the weight of old money soaked into every piece of furniture, every painting, every floorboard.
I walked into my office and closed the door behind me.
The room smelled like leather and old wood and the faint trace of cigars. I didn’t smoke but kept them around because they reminded me of my grandfather—the only man in my family who’d ever looked at me like I was more than a weapon.
I sat at my desk and pulled Truth’s file from the locked drawer.
Raymond had already gone through it. Background check. Financial history. Medical records. Psychological evaluation. Everything was clean. Everything checked out.
But I wanted to see her again.
I opened the file, and her photograph stared back at me.
Truth Renois. Twenty-seven years old. Divorced. Living in the Seventh Ward in her mama’s shotgun house.
But it was her face that stopped me.
Chocolate skin. High cheekbones. Full lips that looked like they smiled more often than they frowned. Hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, no makeup, no pretense.
And her eyes.
Kind.
That’s what got me.
Not beautiful—though she was. Not sexy—though I’d noticed that too.
Kind.
Like she’d been through hell and came out the other side still believing people were worth saving.
