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I haven't slept in this apartment before.

The realization feels strangely intimate.

My penthouse is territory I control. My guards. My rooms. My security. My rules.

Here, I'm in hers.

And she let me stay.

"You should sleep," I say.

"So should you."

"I'm not the one who has been staring at numbers for sixteen hours."

"Thirteen."

"That isn't better."

"It's three hours better."

I run my fingers through her hair. "Sleep."

She lifts her head. "Stop ordering me around."

"Go voluntarily unconscious."

"Much better."

Her head settles against me again.

Ten minutes later, she's asleep.

I don't follow.

I stare into the darkness and think about Karras.

Disposable.

The word keeps returning.

We treated him like a door.

He was barely a hinge.

Someone built a financial structure capable of losing an operator without losing momentum. That requires planning. Redundancy. Knowledge.

And patience.

I look down at Elena.

Whatever OB6 is, it has already killed enough people.

It won't have her.

The thought comes automatically.

The difference now is that I know protection cannot mean putting her somewhere safe while I solve everything without her.