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I leaned over and caught her chin before she could scream. One finger pressed lightly on her lips.

“Don’t.”

Her eyes went wide.

Not helpless.

Calculating.

“No one’s coming,” I said. “No assistant. No coworker. No helpful guard who thinks a uniform makes him brave. I’ve been assured we’ll have all the privacy I need.”

She jerked her face away from my hand, but she didn’t step back.

Interesting—most people did.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” she sneered, “but the people I work for will make sure you’re served justice.”

“Will they?”

“They will.”

I chuckled and then leaned back, dragging a hand over my jaw. “See, that’s where your lack of planning and foresight went to shit.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“A woman with a law degree from the University of Texas, top of her class, law review, a summer at Harrington Shaw & Pierce, and enough polish to make city trash look respectable should’ve been smarter than this.”

That landed. Her eyes blinked as her control faltered for half a second. Her mouth opened, then closed again, and her fingers curled into fists just long enough for me to see the woman underneath scrambling to recover herself.

“You dug into me.”

“What can I say? I was curious.”

“You’re threatening a city attorney.”

“No.” I tapped the folder on her desk. “I’m threatening a liar with a government title.”

Her spine stiffened. “Get out.”

“Let’s talk about who Sarah Farris really is,” I said.

She went still.

My gaze moved over her face, enjoying every moment of watching her falter as she understood I hadn’t come empty-handed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Let’s not waste time pretending. Sarah Farris. Thirty-four. Grew up in Yonkers. Two divorces. Petty theft. Cocaine possession. Employment history that looks like someone threw darts at Craigslist and called it a life plan.”

Color crept higher in Isabella’s cheeks.

I kept going.

“Also goes by Tammy Bondi when she’s taking bookings through Elysian Companions Group. That name mean anything to you?”

She swallowed hard.

“Careful, lass,” I murmured. “Your poker face just folded.”