Chapter 14
Ty
Charlotte was silent next to me on the way to Vertex, her fingers drumming on her thighs like she was still typing on a keyboard.
Understandable. Between the calculations constantly running in her head, worrying about how much trouble she was in with Alex, and not knowing who we could trust of her colleagues, it was pretty fucking overwhelming.
“When we get there,” I said, breaking the silence as we turned onto the road leading to the building, “remember what we discussed. Keep it simple.”
Her fingers stilled. “About the accident.”
“Right. No mention of it being deliberate. No talk about someone trying to steal your work. Far as anyone knows, it was just bad luck at the intersection. We don’t want to tip our hand that we suspect some sort of traitor.”
She stared out the window, jaw tight. “I still can’t wrap my head around it being someone from the lab.”
“I know.” I kept my voice steady, matter-of-fact. “But we can’t rule it out. The fewer details we share, the better.”
“It feels wrong, lying to them.”
“It’s not lying. It’s operational security.
” I pulled into the parking lot, finding a spot near the entrance—always park for a quick exit.
“Besides, whoever’s involved might not even know they’re being used.
Could be someone’s accessing their credentials, using their knowledge without them realizing it. ”
She nodded slowly, but I could see the conflict in her eyes. Charlotte wasn’t built for deception. Her whole life was about finding truth in data, solving problems with logic and precision. Now I was asking her to navigate a world of half-truths and hidden threats.
“Hey.” I turned off the engine and faced her. “Just focus on your work. Let me worry about the rest.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
We walked through the lobby in silence, past the security desk where a younger guard—not Raymond, thankfully—waved us through with an actual smile.
The elevator doors closed with a soft hiss, and I watched Charlotte’s reflection in the polished surface.
Her shoulders were rigid with tension, hands gripping her bag like it might disappear if she loosened her hold.
The elevator seemed to take forever, each floor counting up with deliberate slowness. When the doors finally opened on the third floor, voices erupted immediately.
“Charlotte! Oh my God, we heard about the accident!”
“Are you okay? Someone said you were in the hospital—”
“—heard your car was totaled—”
Half the lab had converged on us before we’d made it three steps inside. Darcy pushed through the crowd, her face tight with concern.
“Let me see you.” She grabbed Charlotte’s shoulders, examining her like a worried mother checking for damage. “When Alex told us about the accident this morning, I nearly drove to your house. You should have called me.”
“I’m fine,” Charlotte said, clearly overwhelmed by the attention. “Really, it looked worse than it was.”
More people pressed in, questions flying from every direction. I stayed close but not too close, watching faces, cataloging reactions. Marcus looked genuinely worried. Linda kept wringing her hands. Several others I didn’t recognize by name all wore expressions of authentic concern.
Or really good masks.
“Perhaps we could give Dr. Gifford some breathing room?” The voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
Raymond Wilmington stood near the security station, arms crossed, face set in his perpetual scowl. But today, there was something else in his expression—actual anger.
“You left the premises with company property,” he said, pushing through the group toward Charlotte. “The countermeasure drive was supposed to remain in the secure lab. You had no authorization—”
“Raymond.” Alex Richards appeared from his office, his tone carrying the kind of authority that made everyone take a step back. “The important thing is Charlotte’s safe and the drive is back where it belongs.”
“Protocol exists for a reason. She could have—”
“She could have died,” Alex interrupted, his usually mild demeanor sharpening. “I think we can forgive a breach of protocol under the circumstances.”
Raymond’s jaw worked like he was chewing glass. “This is exactly the kind of careless—”
“Hey, Wilmington,” I cut in, unable to resist. “Shouldn’t you be painting miniatures or something? I heard the new Warhammer stuff just dropped.”
The effect was immediate and hilarious. Raymond’s face went through about six different expressions—shock, confusion, suspicion, and something that might have been panic. His mouth opened, closed, opened again.
“I don’t… How did you…” He took a step back, eyes narrowing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Could’ve sworn I saw you at that hobby shop downtown the other day—”
“Charlotte needs to get back to work,” Raymond said loudly, his face flushing red. He turned on his heel and stalked back toward his station, shoulders rigid.
Darcy watched him go, eyebrows raised. “What was that about?”
“Nothing,” I said, filing away Raymond’s reaction for later analysis. “Just establishing common interests.”
Charlotte had already moved toward her workstation, booting up her systems while people continued hovering around her. Within minutes, she was fielding questions about the stabilizer code, the countermeasure progress, technical specifications that went over my head.
For the first hour, she handled it with her usual awkward grace—answering questions, delegating tasks, trying to coordinate with team members who all seemed to have different ideas about how to proceed.
But I could see the strain building in the set of her small shoulders, the way her responses got shorter, more clipped.
“Charlotte, if you could just review my integration protocols—”
“—need your input on the frequency modulation—”
“—the testing parameters you requested are showing anomalies—”
She stood up so fast her chair rolled backward, hitting the wall.
“Stop.”
The lab went silent.
“Everyone off the project.” Her voice was steady, but I could hear the exhaustion underneath. “I’m finishing the stabilizer code myself.”
The eruption was immediate.
“You can’t be serious—”
“We’ve all been working on this together—”
“—typical, Charlotte wants all the glory for herself—”
That last comment came from someone named Derek, a thin guy with designer glasses who looked like he’d never thrown a punch in his life. Good thing, too, because the way Charlotte flinched made me want to introduce him to some practical physics involving his face and the nearest wall.
“Glory?” Charlotte’s voice cracked slightly. “You think this is about glory?”
“You’re cutting us out right when we’re about to break through,” Derek continued, clearly not smart enough to read the room. “Just like with the Morrison contract. You submitted the final proposal yourself after we did all the groundwork.”
“Because the client requested—” Charlotte stopped, pressing her palms against her eyes. “I don’t have time for this.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Charlotte Gifford, too brilliant to work with mere mortals—”
I was about to stop this shit, but Darcy beat me to it.
“That’s enough.” Darcy’s voice cut through the rising voices like a whip crack. She stepped between Charlotte and the growing mob of disgruntled team members. “Every single one of you needs to shut up and listen.”
The authority in her tone surprised me. The petite, polished computer engineer suddenly looked like she could take apart everyone in the room—verbally, at least.
“We all know that it’s Charlotte’s brain that has gotten us every major contract we have.” Darcy’s eyes swept the room. “If Charlotte says she needs to work alone to fix this, then we let her work alone. The stabilizer code is more important than your egos.”
“But we’re a team—” someone else started.
“Then act like it,” Darcy snapped. “Support means knowing when to step back. Charlotte’s not asking for glory. She’s trying to save the project. So get over yourselves and let her work.”
I mentally jotted down how everyone was reacting to Charlotte’s request to work alone to provide more focus on who to investigate.
Charlotte’s team wasn’t aware of the Cascade Protocol being sold on the black market or the critical deadline for the stabilizer code.
For them, this was just one more of many important projects they’d worked on.
Except for the traitor. That person knew everything and would want to keep Charlotte from working alone.
The silence that followed was thick with resentment, but people started dispersing, returning to their stations with muttered complaints and dark looks. Charlotte stood frozen in the middle of it all, looking like she wanted to disappear through the floor.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Darcy.
“Always got your back,” Darcy replied, squeezing Charlotte’s arm. “Now, go be brilliant. I’ll handle the children.”
* * *
Thirty hours.
Thirty fucking hours we’d been in this building.
I checked my watch again—6:47 p.m. Charlotte had been holed up in what she’d claimed as her new office for the past day and a half. A janitor’s closet, of all places. When I’d asked why, she’d said it was the only room in the building where people couldn’t find her.
The only room where she could work without interruption.
I sat at an empty desk in the main lab, laptop open to the background reports Jace had sent.
Page after page of financial records, employment histories, personal details on every Vertex employee.
Nothing jumped out. No sudden wealth, no suspicious connections, no obvious red flags.
Even Raymond’s expensive miniature addiction.
My eyes burned from staring at screens. My neck ached from the uncomfortable chair. And I was running on maybe four hours of sleep grabbed in shifts while Charlotte worked through the night, refusing to leave the building.