“Lochlan…” Cormac Doyle’s voice is unmistakable. It crackles through the phone, lower than usual, tight with malice. “Tell your damn union to back off the picket line. More men are gonna die if you don’t.”
A chill crawls down my back, sharp and cold. The implication behind his words is clear. Cormac doesn’t just mean physical threats on the line. He’s talking about something deeper, something more personal. My gut twists as I peek through the narrow window into the office space where staff members are working. I’ve seen the Doyles play dirty, and I can’t help but feel like this time, they’re about to cross a line they haven’t yet. They've been pouncing on picketers for weeks now.
“What do you mean by that?” I force the words out through a tight jaw. I don’t want to know, but I need to. If he's already been breathing down Draco and Jasper's necks, there's no reason for him to come at me here.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Cormac sneers. “You think the picket line’s a problem? That’s nothing compared to what we’ve got in mind. Tell Draco to pull his members back. It's such a shame innocent men will be buried. Think of their wives and children. And those ladies with their cute pencil skirts sitting around their desks typing. Such a shame, indeed.”
I feel my muscles stiffen, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up as his words hit like a punch to the gut. What’s he got in mind? He means inside the walls of this office—going after the people here. People Draco asked me to watch out for.
A sharp breath slips through my teeth. “Don’t make threats you can’t back up, Doyle,” I growl, though the words feel hollow even to me. I know he’s not bluffing. “What the hell are you really planning?”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. “You’ll see soon enough,” he says finally, and the line goes dead before I can respond. The sound of the dial tone echoes in my ear, leaving me in a bitter silence.
I stand there, unmoving, in the middle of the entryway. My mind is already spiraling. I think of the people in this building—the men and women working behind their desks, the ones who come to work every day thinking it's safe.
My thoughts inevitably flick to Evie. The way she’s been acting lately, her wariness, the frightened look in her eyes when I’d caught her the other day—there’s something more to this. She’s involved somehow, and I can’t figure out how or why, but I know it’s not a coincidence. This is more than just a union dispute. It always has been, and maybe Cormac is trying to make this personal to Draco. Something I don’t think anyone has thought about.
Shaking off the unease, I make my way to the office, pushing through the door and stepping into the main room. My gaze sweeps it quickly, a habit I’ve honed over years of working in this business. My eyes settle on her almost immediately.
Evie’s sitting at her desk, bent over papers, her brow furrowed, looking more tense than usual. She’s chewing at the inside of her lip, an unconscious habit I've noticed she does when something’s eating at her.
Her face is pale—too pale—and when she catches sight of me, she jumps, startled. Her shoulders hunch instinctively, like she’s bracing for something. Her hands freeze mid-motion as if she wasn’t expecting anyone to be standing behind her.
“Evie,” I call, my voice sharp and commanding as I step closer. “In my office. Now.”
She stands quickly, but there’s no spark in her movement like usual. No lightness. No energy. She seems more like she’s going through the motions than anything else, like she’s carrying something heavy. Her shoulders slump, and I can see a flicker of something in her eyes—anxiety? Fear? The two emotions mingle together, and it makes my chest tighten.
I watch her follow me into my office, my gaze trailing over the way her hands tremble slightly as she closes the door behind her. She stands across from me with a defensive posture. Her arms cross tightly over her chest. It’s subtle, but it’s there—she’s guarding herself.
“What’s going on?” I ask casually, hoping not to spook her. I'm late getting in today, so she may assume this is a check-in on my part. I had a few things to manage, but now I'm regretting that decision. If Cormac is ready to target the home office and not just the picket line, it means anyone here is unsafe—including Evie. And I gave Draco my word that I'd protect her as much as his business.
Her eyes dart away from mine for a moment, but when she meets my gaze again, she forces a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing. It’s just… busy. You know how it is.”
I don’t buy it. The tension in her body, the way she’s avoiding my gaze—something’s not right. But I don’t press her yet. I need more from her, and I’m not about to push her into a corner just to get answers. It would only make her ask more questions like the one she threw at me the other day about her da being dirty.
“Anything strange happening? Any odd emails? Visitors? Anything out of the ordinary?” I ask, and she flinches slightly like she wasn’t expecting the question, but she holds her ground.
“No,” she says, a little too quickly. “Nothing. Just the usual stuff.” Her head shakes, hair tousled around her face. It's sort of sexy, but with her panicked expression, I'm not able to allow myself to indulge.
The words feel like they’re sitting between us, heavy and insincere. I’m not convinced, but I can’t force her to tell me something she's not ready to cough up. If she's scared enough, she'll come to me. For now, maybe my best option is just to take control where I can, ensure she's safe even if she won't make herself vulnerable. Something tells me that man earlier in the parking lot has something to do with this.
“Alright,” I reply after a beat, making the decision in my mind. “From now on, I’m giving you a ride to and from work. For safety. Things are escalating at the picket lines, and I’m not going to risk something happening to you here. Your da would kill me.”
Her eyes widen slightly, surprise flashing across her features before she quickly masks it. She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. “No arguments. This isn’t up for discussion.”
She doesn’t argue. The tension in the room eases ever so slightly, though I can tell she’s not entirely happy with my decision. She’s strong-willed, but I won’t back down on this. Not after the threat I just received. Not when I know what the Doyles are capable of.
She nods silently and walks toward the door more slowly than usual, her body language saying more than her words ever could. As soon as the door clicks shut behind her, I reach for my phone again, dialing Ronan’s number. He picks up on the second ring, and before he can even speak, I unload.
“Ronan,” I snip urgently. “I spotted a man outside the office earlier. Didn’t recognize him, but something about him felt off. We need to be on alert. I don’t trust this. Something's happening.”
Ronan’s response is quick and sharp. “Alright, keep a close eye on everything. The office is too valuable to lose. Our shipments don't go out if the union takes a hit. Draco has worked too hard to keep things up and running for us. We can’t afford a slip-up.”
I nod, though he can’t see me. “Got it. I'll tighten things up here.”
There’s a pause, and I can hear the shift in Ronan’s tone. “What else? You didn’t call me this worked up over some guy in the parking lot.”
I run a hand through my hair, trying to keep my voice steady. “Cormac called me. Told me to pull the picket line back or more men will die.”