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CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TEN — The Brother's Face
Phillip was in the drawing room when they arrived.He'd poured himself a Scotch. That was the tell …Phillip, at family gatherings, never drank hard liquor before eleven. It was a rule he'd mentioned twice in Derek's presence, the way men mention discipline when they want credit for it.The Scotch meant he knew.Jacob was standing by the fireplace. Marcus was near the door. Elaine Voss was gone … she'd made her excuses after Farris's team arrived, which told Derek everything about where her loyalty was positioned.Phillip looked up when Derek and Orla entered. His face did something complex and fast … relief first, which was the real mistake. You don't feel relief at the sight of a man unless you'd briefly feared he wouldn't be coming back.Then the composure reassembled."Derek." Warm. Practiced. "Everything alright? I heard there was some kind of misunderstanding with…""Stop," Derek said.Phillip stopped.The room went quiet enough that the fire sounded loud.Derek crossed it slowly
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND NINE — Where Orla Was
She'd been in the parking structure beneath the West Group building when they took her.Not violently … that was the thing she'd process later, the part that bothered her most. No weapons drawn, no struggle. Two men in suits at the elevator, badges that looked exactly right because they were right … current credentials, active in the system. Which meant Phillip had contacts at the federal level.They called it a voluntary interview. They walked her to a black car. They drove her twelve minutes north to a building she recognized as city government property … mid-level, admin floor, the kind of floor where nothing interesting was supposed to happen.They put her in a room with a table and two chairs and left her alone for twenty-two minutes.She counted.At minute twenty-three, the door opened.The man who entered was not law enforcement. She'd spent enough time around law enforcement to know the difference. He wore it like a costume. His posture was wrong … too settled, too comfortable
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHT — Thursday Dinner
The table seated twelve. Tonight there were five: Jacob, Phillip, Marcus, Derek, and a woman Derek didn't recognize until Jacob introduced her as Elaine Voss…Phillip's attorney.That detail landed quietly in Derek's chest and stayed there.You don't bring your attorney to a family dinner unless you're expecting a conversation you want witnessed.The food came out in courses. Phillip was charming … the kind of charming that filled rooms and made waitstaff invisible. He talked about the Veracore trial timeline, about the board's position, about press management. He talked easily about Derek … directly to Derek … calling him impressive, calling him resilient, calling him a true West.Each time, Derek smiled.Marcus was watching Phillip the way a man watches traffic before stepping off a curb."The kidnapping investigation," Phillip said, as the main course arrived. "Have there been any new developments? Jacob mentioned Hartwell was cooperating.""Partially," Jacob said carefully."It mus
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND SEVEN — Glass
Derek was at the facility when Orla called. He'd kept his word … back to see his mother, same chair by the window, same careful distance that the staff had quietly coached him on.His mother's name was Lena. Not Lena West anymore … that name had been stripped from her twenty-three years ago, along with everything else. She went by Lena Marsh now, the surname of the woman who'd become her caretaker before the disease had made caretakers necessary.Derek sat with her for forty minutes before she asked: "Are you one of the doctors?""No," he said. "I'm just visiting."She nodded, satisfied. "You have kind eyes. My son had kind eyes." She looked out the window. "He would be your age now. Maybe a little younger."Derek didn't correct her. He just sat.His phone vibrated. Orla. He excused himself and stepped into the corridor."Phillip West," Orla said without preamble. "Tell me what you know about him."Derek leaned against the wall. "Jacob's brother. Board member. He's been present at mos
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND SIX — What Jacob Didn't Say
Jacob West was already awake when Orla arrived at the house at seven the next morning.He was in the study, the heavy curtains drawn, a glass of water untouched on the desk. He'd aged since the wildfire. Not visibly … the money and the doctors saw to that … but in the way he sat. Like a man carrying something he hadn't set down in decades."You found something," he said, before she'd spoken."We found that Weston's gone." She sat without being invited. "And that the metadata was wiped. And that someone called me last night with a threat."Jacob was quiet."They're moving fast," she said. "Which tells me they're afraid." She watched his face. "What are they afraid of, Jacob?""The trial." His voice was even. Rehearsed."The Veracore trial doesn't start for four months. Hartwell has time." She leaned forward. "They threatened Derek. Indirectly, through me. That's not corporate legal maneuvering. That's personal." She paused. "What else is there?"Jacob looked at his water glass."There'
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND FIVE — The Man Who Ran
Weston was gone, and that meant someone had warned him.Orla knew it the moment Cassian's message hit her screen. Not fled … warned. There was a difference. Men who ran on instinct left trails: half-packed bags, cancelled gym memberships, phones still pinging. Men who were moved left nothing.She called Cassian before Derek finished his call to Marcus."The car," she said. "Any CCTV within two blocks of his building?""Already requested. The city traffic system shows a dark SUV … unplated … parked outside at 6:14 AM. Gone by 6:31.""Who knew we had his name?"A pause. "Brennan. You. Me. Marcus.""And whoever Hartwell has inside our operation," she said.She hung up. Derek turned from the window. He'd finished his call. He was watching her face read her own."Weston ran," she said.Derek didn't flinch. "Or was moved.""Yes.""Which means Hartwell knows we connected the warehouse report to him." Derek's voice was flat and deliberate. "Which means Hartwell has someone watching us."Orla
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