Chapter Forty-Three
Colton
The scent of money and greed seemed embedded in the walls of Devereux Bank. Everything just the same as I’d left it and yet everything had changed.
I adjusted my cuffs, Savile Row, like always, but now the fabric concealed calluses and scars. My reflection in the elevator’s brass panels showed the same corporate lawyer who’d left months ago. Same precise haircut. Same suit. Same air of quiet authority.
But underneath…
“Mr. Moreau.” Rodger appeared the second I exited on the executive floor, his lips curving in a smile that failed to warm his calculating eyes. “Welcome back. Any updates from your...family emergency?”
“Resolved, thank you.” I matched his professional tone, noting how his eyes tracked my movements. Assessing. Hunting. “Though I appreciate the board’s continued patience with my schedule adjustments.”
“Of course.” He fell into step beside me as I walked to my office. “Family must come first. Particularly in times of...stress.”
The subtle emphasis made something cold slide down my spine. I kept my face impassive, thinking of Isabella waiting at the penthouse, monitoring the bank’s security feeds that Stryker’s team had accessed.
“Indeed.” I unlocked my office, my peripheral vision registering the new cameras in the corridor. They’d upgraded security during my absence. “I trust there’s nothing urgent that requires immediate attention?”
“Actually...” Rodger followed me in, uninvited. “The board would appreciate your input on some recent acquisitions. The documentation seems incomplete.”
I set my briefcase down, every movement calculated to project normalcy. Inside, rage burned at his casual reference to their operation.
“Of course.” I began unpacking files with measured motions. “Send over whatever needs review. Though, I’ll need time to catch up on my email first.”
“Naturally.” He lingered by my desk, watching my movements carefully. “We were sorry to hear about Miss Delacroix, by the way. I knew you were…close. Such a tragedy.”
My hands wanted to shake. I wanted to reach across the desk and tear out his fucking throat for daring to speak her name. But I kept unpacking, my posture smooth and controlled.
“The art division has suffered in her absence,” he continued when I didn’t respond. “Though I suppose some losses are inevitable in our line of work.”
“Everything has a cost,” I said carefully, remembering Isabella’s warmth in my arms just hours ago. Our child growing beneath my hands.
“Yes.” His eyes remained cold as winter. “Though some costs are higher than others. Speaking of which…how is your brother? Still enjoying his retirement in Tuscany?”
The threat hung in the air, unmistakable. They knew where I’d been. Had probably been watching Cooper’s villa the entire time. I felt my gut clench. Did they know about Isabella? Cooper had said that no surveillance could get past their gates, but Rodger’s threat was all too real.
“Quite well.” I met his gaze steadily, letting him see nothing but detached courtesy. “The vineyard keeps him busy.”
“Yes, everything about your family is on the up and up now, isn’t it? Though I seem to recall your brother having rather improper tendencies in the past.”
“People change.” I settled into my chair, trying to subtly dismiss him. “Sometimes for the better.”
“Do they?” He moved towards the door, but paused with his hand on the knob. “The board meets at two. They’ll want to hear about your...time away.”
After he left, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. The cameras in my office—new ones I’d already spotted in the top corners, behind the ventilation panels—would be reporting my every move. I would need to be cautious with everything I did here.
I began sorting through files, keeping up appearances. My computer powered on with familiar efficiency. Email loaded, hundreds of messages requiring my attention. Meeting requests. Contract reviews. All normal business.
The morning passed in a blur of corporate monotony. I responded to emails with practiced calm. Reviewed contracts with thorough attention. Gave every appearance of sliding seamlessly back into my role.
But beneath every action, every word, I was observing. Noting the new security measures. Recording what I saw in memory to share with Interpol later. My role was simple but vital—maintain cover, be their trusted counsel, and ensure Interpol could access what they needed when the time came.
Sari brought coffee at exactly ten—another piece of normality slotting back into place. Her smile was warm, but her eyes darted briefly to the new cameras, a warning.
“The art division has been chaos,” she said quietly, setting down my usual cup. “Since Miss Delacroix...”
She trailed off, fingers tightening almost imperceptibly on her own cup. I caught the slight tension in her shoulders, the posture of someone playing a careful role. I knew exactly what role that was now.
“Change is inevitable in any organization,” I said smoothly. “Though some changes are more difficult than others.”
Her eyes flickered to the new cameras before she nodded. Message received.
“The board packet for this afternoon’s meeting is on your desk,” she said at normal volume. “They’ve added several items regarding recent acquisitions.”
“Thank you, Sari.” I looked directly at her, allowing a hint of understanding to show in my expression. One professional to another. “Your attention to detail continues to be invaluable.”
Something shifted in her gaze—a moment of wariness, then careful neutrality.
“It’s good to have you back, Mr. Moreau,” she said as she moved to the door. “Things haven’t been quite right without you.”
After she left, I allowed myself exactly thirty seconds to appreciate her signal. To mentally acknowledge our silent alliance.
The boardroom remained unchanged—polished mahogany and high-backed leather chairs. But I knew better now. Knew what kind of deals were brokered in here. The same faces turned to watch me enter, though their expressions held new calculation.
“Colton.” Richard Montgomery, board chairman, gestured to my usual seat. “Welcome back. I trust your time away was...restorative?”
“Very.” I settled into the leather chair, noting the changes in security positioning. Two guards by the main door instead of one. Another watching from the mezzanine above. “Though I appreciate the board’s patience with my sudden departure.”
“Family must come first,” Rodger said from his position three seats down.
“Indeed.” I opened my laptop with steady hands. “Shall we begin?”
Montgomery nodded to his assistant, and the lights dimmed for the presentation. Shipping manifests appeared on the main screen, more art acquisitions that didn’t exist.
“As you can see,” Rodger began, his voice carrying the authority of a man accustomed to power, “our art division has continued operations despite certain personnel changes.”
I wanted to reach for the ceramic knife concealed beneath my jacket. Instead, I studied the documents with professional detachment.
“Impressive volume,” I noted with apparent admiration. “The department has been busy in my absence.”
Several board members relaxed slightly at my seemingly positive response. I mentally noted Thomas Fortescue’s knowing glance at Rodger. Over half the board involved.
Rodger’s smile widened.
“We’ve had to adapt quickly,” he said smoothly. “And implement new procedures to ensure proper documentation going forward.”
“Adaptation is essential in our business,” I agreed, making casual notes on my laptop. “Have the new authentication procedures been working well?”
“We’ve engaged several external experts.” Montgomery’s voice carried just a hint of warning. “Given recent...staffing adjustments.”
The reminder of Isabella’s “disappearance” hung heavy in the air. I kept my expression neutral, with just the right amount of appropriate regret.
“A sensible approach,” I said supportively. “I’m sure they’ve been thorough.”
“The buyers are quite eager to complete these transactions,” Rodger said, his tone still carrying an edge of suspicion beneath the collegiality.
“As they should be. These are exceptional pieces.” I met his gaze with nothing but professional interest. “I’d be happy to review any documentation that might help expedite matters. Just to ensure everything runs smoothly.”
The tension in his eyes remained, though his smile held. “Your dedication to your department is admirable, Colton. Particularly after your time away.”
“The bank’s interests remain my priority,” I replied simply. I glanced at the temperature control specifications on one manifest, memorizing the details while appearing merely curious. “I see we’re still using the specialized climate control protocols. Excellent—consistency is important.”
The room remained wary but no longer tensed for conflict. The guards relaxed their stances slightly.
“Standard procedures,” Montgomery confirmed with a nod. “For preservation of delicate merchandise.”
“Of course.” I made another note, nothing that would raise suspicions. “I’ve always admired our attention to detail.”
“Our procedures are quite thorough,” Rodger said, the hardness in his voice slightly diminished by my apparent cooperation.
“It’s why we’ve remained industry leaders.” I closed my laptop without any dramatic gesture. “I look forward to getting fully up to speed in the coming days.”
Some of the tension dissipated from the room, though watchfulness remained.
“Well,” Montgomery concluded with evident relief, “I believe that covers the major items. Unless there are other concerns?”
I gathered my papers and pocketed them in my briefcase. “Nothing urgent. I’ll just need to catch up on the server logs and documentation I’ve missed. Standard procedure, of course.”
“Of course.” Rodger’s smile remained sharp, but less overtly hostile. “My office will coordinate with yours regarding access protocols. Given your extended absence.”
“I appreciate that.” I stood, straightening my tie. “It’s good to be back.”
The guards watched me leave, still alert but no longer on edge.
I walked back to my office through familiar corridors, nodding to employees who tried not to stare. My mind was already racing ahead to what I would tell Isabella when I returned home—the shipping manifests, the heightened security, the clear monitoring of my movements. All information that Interpol would need to complete their investigation.
I spent the rest of the afternoon reviewing documents. But beneath every action, I was playing my part perfectly, maintaining my cover while Interpol’s investigation continued in the background. Soon, they would have everything they needed to expose the hidden rot at the heart of Devereux Bank.