Page 29 of Isolation

“Looking for something?”

The voice sliced through the silence, and I froze with my hand still inside the safe. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Mateo. I’d recognize his voice anywhere, the deep timbre that once made me feel protected now sent ice through my veins.I pulled my hand back slowly, trying to control the shaking. My brain calculated at lightning speed. How long had he been standing there? What exactly did he know? What about Mr. Ratty Bear?

I straightened my spine before facing him, schooling my features into what I hoped passed for confusion rather than panic.

“Hey, baby. Didn’t hear you come in. How’d it go with your coach?” My voice was surprisingly steady, considering my heart was trying to punch its way out of my chest.

Mateo leaned against the doorframe of our walk-in closet, wearing his practice gear—black shorts and a compression shirt that hugged his athletic frame. His expression was neutral, almost bored, but his eyes were focused and sharp. I’d seen that look before, but it was never directed at me. It was the same cold calculation he had when sizing up an opponent on the court.

“Funny thing happened while you were at the gym. I went looking for our insurance papers, and I found something interesting instead,” he said casually, not moving from his position. His gaze drifted deliberately to the open safe then back to my face.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the missing USB drive, holding it between his thumb and forefinger like a bug he’d caught. My stomach twisted into a knot.

“Want to tell me why my wife is keeping a file of evidence against me?” His voice was still eerily calm.

I could lie and make up some story about backing up family photos or financial records for taxes. But the look in his eyes told me he’d already seen the contents and already knew exactly what I’d been doing. Besides, I’d always been a terrible liar with him. It was why I was so blindsided when I discovered he’d been lying to me for months.

“I think you know why,” I replied, finding a reserve of strength deep inside. PR crisis mode engaged automatically—never admit more than they already know. “The question is what exactly are you hiding, Mateo?”

A humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That’s not how this works, Dani.”

He pushed off from the doorframe and took two steps into the closet, closing the distance between us. He wasn’t touching me, but his presence filled the space, making breathing hard.

“You don’t get to play detective in my house, going through my things, building a case against me.”

“Your house? Last I checked, my name is on the deed too. And I gave up my whole damn career and a great salary to support yours, so don’t?—”

“Let’s not do this,” he interrupted. His voice dropped lower. It was his “reasonable” tone, which he used when trying to defuse a situation while still getting his way.

I stood straight and faced him.

“We both know what you’re doing, Danica. You’ve been talking to Remi Pearson.”

Hearing him say her name made my breath catch.

“She’s been filling your head with all kinds of theories.”

I took a small step back.

Mateo continued when I didn’t respond. He held up the USB drive again. “Instead of coming to your husband, you started digging. Started collecting… insurance. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

My lower back pressed against the edge of the safe. “Tell me then… what happened?—”

“It was an accident, a fucking accident on the court that happened to work out in my favor. End of story.” He cut in sharply.

But it wasn’t the end of the story, and we both knew it. The recordings on that drive told a different tale. The timing was all too perfect to be a coincidence.

“Then why hide anything?” I challenged. My fear morphed into frustration.

His eyes narrowed slightly. It was the only indication I’d struck a nerve. “You don’t understand how this world works, Dani. I didn’t push him. He leaned into the moment. I got into his head, and he cracked. It’s about survival, not innocence. Coach knew what he was doing when he gave me that ISO. DeAndre’s contract demands pissed of the brass. See, you think everything’s black and white because you lived in your little PR bubble where image is everything. The real world has gray areas.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now? Gray areas? A man’s career was derailed.” My voice rose despite my efforts to keep calm.

Mateo moved closer, and this time, he touched me. One hand rested lightly on my shoulder, the other still holding the incriminating USB drive. The gesture might have looked affectionate to anyone, but I felt the subtle pressure and warning in his grip.

“Listen to me carefully. Why would Remi give you the evidence instead of using it herself? Think about it. There’s a method to her madness. We’re in this together now. If you expose me, you lose everything too.”

I stared at him, trying to process his words. “What are you talking about?”

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