Author's Preface
[Irene]
By 5 PM, the fourth floor begins to clear out.
Monitors flicker off one by one, and the steady clatter of mechanical keyboards settles into a low hum.
I save my working files to the secure server, close my laptop, and slide it into my leather bag.
As I stand up and adjust my blazer, Romeo steps around his desk partition, a stack of reports under his arm.
"Heading out?" he asks, lingering by the corner of my station. "A few of us from the risk team are grabbing drinks down the street. You're welcome to join."
I zip my bag shut, sling the strap over my shoulder, and step past him without slowing my stride.
Romeo lets out a short chuckle behind me. "All right then. Goodnight, Irene."
I walk straight to the glass doors and take the elevator down to the main foyer.
[ *** ]
The moment I step through the sliding glass doors of the building entrance, the humid evening air hits my face.
Parked directly along the curb sits the black car, flanked by a second darkened SUV.
Two security men in tailored coats stand by the rear doors, scanning the pavement.
I let out a quiet exhale before heading down the stone steps.
One of the security guards steps forward immediately, gesturing toward the open door of the car.
"Mrs. Verin. The car is ready for your return to the estate."
"I'm not going straight back," I protest.
"Take me to the café two blocks down."
The guard hesitates, adjusting his earpiece. "Mr. Jude's instructions were strict. We are to take you directly back to the estate after work hours. If you wish to make a stop, I will need to call for permission first."
"Permission?" I repeat, a spark of irritation rising in my throat.
He pulls a dark satellite phone from his jacket, speed-dialing a number and lifting the device to his ear. "Standing by to clear a detour with Mr. Jude—"
Before he can finish the sentence, I reach out and snatch the phone directly out of his hand.
"Hey—" the guard starts, taking a half-step back in surprise.
I press the phone to my ear just as Jude's deep, smooth voice comes through the speaker. "What is it?"
"I don't need your permission to move around this city," I say, cutting straight over the line before he can even register who is speaking. "I am going to a café. I will be using the car, or I will take a taxi, but I am not asking you."
I press the red end-call button before he can answer.
I slap the phone back into the guard's open palm. "We're done talking about permission. Either open the door and drive me, or I take a cab."
The primary guard stares at the phone in total disbelief, his jaw set tight.
Beside him, the second guard steps closer, leaning in to whisper rapidly into his ear while glancing down at his radio.
After a tense three seconds, the primary guard exhales heavily, steps back, and pulls the rear door wide open. "Get in, Mrs. Verin."
[ *** ]
Five minutes later, the car pulls up to the curb outside a quiet, brick-faced café set along a tree-lined avenue.
The SUV pulls up behind us, both guards staying close to the exterior glass as I walk inside.
Leo is already sitting at a small corner booth near the back, looking anxiously toward the door.
The moment his eyes land on me, he pushes back his chair and stands up. "Irene."
"Sit down, Leo," I say, sliding into the booth across from him as the ambient murmur of the coffee shop wraps around us.
He sinks back into his seat, his eyes darting toward the two heavy-set guards standing just outside the front window.
His face pales slightly, his fingers tapping nervously against his ceramic mug.
"Who are those men?" Leo whispers, leaning across the table.
"Irene, what is going on? Since the wedding, Arthur won't say a word about where you are staying, and Mona keeps acting like you're completely gone."
"They're just security, Leo. Don't worry about them," I reply calmly.
"How can I not worry?" he snaps quietly, his voice cracking with genuine distress.
He reaches across the small table and grips my hands tightly in his own.
His palms are cold. "Look at you. You look like you're being hunted. If Arthur forced you into something dangerous—"
I pull my hands from his grip and fold my arms neatly over my lap beneath the table.
"I'm fine," I say firmly, holding his gaze until his breathing settles. "I can take care of myself, Leo. You know that. I just needed to see you and make sure you were keeping your head down at the firm."
He looks down at his empty coffee cup, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh.
"It's miserable without you there. Mona is taking over your father's old corner office, and Arthur is liquidating half the secondary accounts."
"Let them," I answer flatly. "None of that matters right now."
He looks back up at me, his eyes full of earnest concern. "When am I going to see you again? Can you come over for dinner this weekend?"
"I don't know my schedule yet," I say, stepping out of the booth and pulling my bag over my shoulder. "I'll let you know when I can. Don't call the main estate lines, Leo. I'll reach out to you."
He stands up slowly, looking like he wants to say a dozen more things, but he just nods. "Please stay safe, Irene."
"I will," I say, giving him a brief, reassuring look before turning and walking out to the waiting car.
[ *** ]
The drive back to the estate takes forty minutes through dense evening traffic.
By the time the convoy turns through the iron gates and climbs the long, tree-lined driveway, the sun has dipped entirely below the horizon, painting the sky in deep purples and blacks.
The car comes to a stop in the courtyard, and the guard opens my door.
I step out into the cool evening air, my shoulders tight with exhaustion—only for my stomach to drop the moment my eyes sweep over the lawn.
Under the warm glow of the heated pavilion, Jude sits in a low leather armchair, a glass of dark liquor resting in his hand.
He's in a crisp white dress shirt with the top buttons undone, looking entirely relaxed and thoroughly pleased with himself as he watches the car doors close.
I pull my bag tighter against my side, a surge of annoyance rising sharply within me as I walk across the stone driveway.
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