Her head came up. “Know what?”
“About last night,” Emily said. “The setup, the people, and the man who did that to you.”
Julia’s shoulders tightened as she repeated, “It was just a bad scene.”
“Maybe,” Emily said. “But it could be more.”
She went still. “You think this is connected to the missing subs?”
“I think it’s a small world. The BDSM community is even smaller,” Emily said.
She looked down at her hands, uncertain. Emily looked too, seeing only the bruises.
“Alec will listen. No judgment.”
“I don’t see how. I’m judging myself.” Julia closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. “What would I have to do?”
“I’ll call him and see. But not without your permission.”
Nodding, Julia whispered, “Okay.”
Emily squeezed her hand and echoed, “Okay.”
Her eyes suddenly opened. “Not Leland.”
“I’ll let Alec know,” Emily said, picking up her phone. But she was wondering how they’d keep him out of it and from ripping the dom from last night apart.
Leland Hale could be a stubborn ass, but Emily knew without a doubt he cared more than he was willing to admit.
***
The Devlin & Associates offices weren’t what she expected, but they should have been. No flash or excess: simple clean lines, glass, dark wood, everything deliberate and controlled. Like the people who worked there.
On another day, it probably would have impressed her.
Emily stayed close as they stepped inside.
Julia focused on putting one foot in front of the other. On keeping her shoulders straight. On not thinking about how she looked.
She’d made it three steps into the lobby before Greta rose from behind the reception desk, eyes wide and fixed on her.Michael, who was leaning against it, halted mid-conversation and turned to look at her too.
Neither said anything. They didn’t need to; their expressions—Greta’s angry sympathy, Michael’s straight anger—said it all.
Emily stepped in smoothly. “She’s here to see Alec.”
Greta held Julia’s gaze a moment longer then reached for the phone. “Conference Room B is open,” she said. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thanks,” Emily said.
Julia exhaled quietly as they moved past, not realizing she’d been holding her breath until she wasn’t anymore.
Conference Room B was small: just four walls, a simple oval table, and the soft hum of air from the vent. No looming furniture. No command-center vibe. A quiet, private space. Her tension eased a little.
Alec came in a minute later, closing the door behind him.
He took one look at her, and everything about his posture changed. Not shock or alarm. Greta, or maybe Emily, had likely prepared him. Concern, foremost.
“You okay?”
