Page 42 of Scornful

Files are scattered across my father's desk—membership records, business documents, shipping manifests.

I'm about to leave when something catches my eye. A familiar name on a shipping document.

Laken.

My blood goes cold as I lean closer, scanning the document.

It's a record of shipments, and there's Laken's name listed as a contact for deliveries. But these aren't club shipments.

The dates, the locations... they match up with intel the Patriot would want.

"Oh fuck," I breathe, pieces clicking into place. Laken isn't just stalking me. He's feeding information to the enemy.

My hands shake as I pull out my phone to take pictures of the documents. I need to tell someone, need to?—

"What the fuck are you doing?"

I nearly jump out of my skin, spinning to find Emil in the doorway.

My brother's eyes narrow as he takes in the scene—me with my phone out, the scattered files, my guilty expression.

"I was just?—"

"Those are Dad and Rune’s files," he says, stepping into the room. "What's going on, Astrid?"

My mind races. I can't tell him about Geirolf, but I can tell him about Laken. "Look at this," I say, showing him the document. "Laken's name. He's connected to these shipments."

Emil's expression darkens as he reads. "Fuck. That piece of shit has been playing us this whole time?"

"We need to talk to Dad," I say, relief flooding through me, knowing he's focused on Laken and not questioning why I was snooping.

"Yeah," Emil agrees, already pulling out his phone. "I’m sure he’s losing his fuckin’ mind.. Laken's been around the businesses, knew some of our schedules already..."

As Emil makes the call, I slip out of the office, my heart still racing.

This changes everything.

Laken's working with the Patriot, so that puts a target on my back whether I'm with Geirolf or not.

I push through the front door, gulping in the cool October air.

The parking lot is mostly empty except for a few bikes and cars, while Bubba’s lot next door is packed to the brim.

It’s good to see the bar doing so well, but I can’t focus on that right now.

I need to get out of here.

I need to warn Geirolf, need to?—

"Princess, you okay?"

I spin around to find Geirolf standing there with Magnus.

They must have just pulled up.

Without thinking, acting purely on instinct and fear, I grab Geirolf's hand.

"Laken," I gasp. "He's working with the Patriot. I found documents?—"

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