Page 20 of Silence and Surrender

“There’s nothing to notice.”

“No?” She stood, straightening her skirt. “Then why does he watch the door every time you leave a room? Why does he position himself between you and Rodger in meetings? Why does he—”

“Enough.” But my voice lacked conviction. “We’re colleagues working on a sensitive audit. Nothing more.”

“If you say so.” She headed for the door, then paused. “But Isabella? Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible if there was something more. You deserve someone worth fighting for.”

I looked at the manifests again, but the numbers spun into images of him. Training before dawn, preparing for unknown threats. Writing warnings in his tidy script, breaking rules he’d always followed. Watching doors, monitoring threats, positioning himself between me and danger.

The work ahead felt overwhelming—gathering evidence, exposing this horror, avenging my father’s death. But for the first time since starting this investigation, I wondered if I truly had to face it alone. Some rules, I was learning, deserved to be broken. Some risks were worth the potential cost.

My phone buzzed again with Rodger’s increasingly demanding messages. I gathered the files and headed for the elevator, feeling Colton’s warning note like a brand in my pocket. Passing his darkened office, memories of last night flooded back—the solid warmth of his body near mine, the roughness in his voice as he promised to keep me safe, the way he’d looked at me as though I was a mystery he was trying to unravel.

“Focus,” I muttered, jabbing the elevator button sharply. I had work to do…a meeting to survive, evidence to analyze, a trafficking ring to expose. I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of distraction or feelings, couldn’t permit myself to need anyone, regardless of how protected they made me feel.

Yet, Colton’s presence lingered in my thoughts—the trust he inspired, the ghost of his touch on my skin.

The elevator arrived and I stepped in, squaring my shoulders. I needed to be professional and focused, everything my father had taught me to be. But a part of me yearned for something different, to be someone who could embrace these feelings, someone who could trust.

Rodger waited in one of the bank’s smaller conference rooms, pristine in his black suit. Meticulously styled with gel, his dark hair complemented the calculating gray eyes that missed nothing as they scanned the documents before him.

“Miss Delacroix.” His forced smile hadn’t changed since our elevator encounter. “Thank you for making time in your busy schedule.”

“Of course.” I took a seat across from him, keeping the door in my line of sight. The metallic undertone of his cologne seemed stronger in the enclosed space.

“These authentication reports are quite impressive.” He slid a folder across the table. “Particularly the attention to...detail.”

I opened the file, scanning quickly. All the recent pieces I’d authenticated, including several I’d flagged as suspicious. “Documentation is crucial in our line of work.”

“Indeed.” His finger traced the edge of a report. “Though sometimes one can be too thorough. Too...precise in recording certain irregularities.”

The threat was there, concealed within formal pleasantries. “The bank hired me for my expertise.”

“Yes.” He leaned back, studying me with those too-knowing eyes. “Your late-night meetings with our chief counsel, for instance. Very...thorough.”

“If you have concerns about my methods—”

“Oh, I have many concerns.” His smile remained frozen even as his voice took on an edge. “About your methods. Your attention to certain shipping details. Your...extracurricular research.”

There it was. The hidden threat, thinly veiled.

“Again, the bank hired me because I’m the best,” I said carefully. “Part of my expertise is attention to detail.”

“Like your father’s attention to detail?” His smile turned deadly. “We all know how that ended.”

My hands wanted to shake. I kept them steady through sheer power of will. “Are you threatening me, Mr. Ross?”

“Threatening? No.” He gathered his papers, his harsh eyes never leaving mine. “Just reminiscing about past employees who got too...curious. Who asked too many questions about things that didn’t concern them.”

“Interesting that you’d bring up my father.” I stared at him, unblinking, though my heart hammered.

Something registered in Rodger’s bearing, and he shifted. “Your father was quite renowned in certain circles.”

“And which circles would those be?”

“The kind that understand discretion.” He stood, moving to the window. “The kind that know how to handle...complications.”

The threat hung in the air between us, choking me. Through the conference room’s glass walls, I could see bank employees going about their day, oblivious to the dangerous dance happening in this room.

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