Chapter 10 #2
His gaze held hers. Steady. Unwavering.
"So tell me," he said. "What is it you actually know or suspect? Do you know who the real brain behind the operation is?"
Tatum sighed, rubbed her face, then picked up her teacup again. Her hands, he noticed, were shaking slightly. "No. I don't know who it is. But I suspect it could only be a handful of people."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because the way they set this up required a pretty intense knowledge of offshore banking and the law," she said. "None of those three possess that knowledge. And as far as I can tell, the law firm on record for the business didn't come close to having that level of expertise either."
She took a sip of tea, then continued. "So it had to be someone who understands the law and offshore banking. Someone with serious connections. Someone who could get the ball rolling."
Archer listened closely, his mind already running through possibilities.
"North, Kelly, and Lebowitz know people," Tatum continued, "but they're not known as top-tier investors. To convince others to hand over that kind of money, there had to be someone people trusted, at least at the beginning. Someone at the very top."
"That's a fair assessment," Archer said.
More than fair. He was impressed, and that didn't happen easily.
He'd known Tatum was intelligent and capable.
But this wasn't casual speculation. She'd done real work.
Thought it through carefully. Dug deep. The quality of her mind was something else entirely, and he felt it like a current in the room.
He kept his expression neutral.
"So," he asked, "do you have a list of names?"
"Not a list," she said. "But I have ideas."
"What does that mean exactly?"
"It means," she said carefully, setting her cup down, "it's someone who understands investments, the law, offshore banking, and has the kind of connections that open doors. Someone who could manipulate North, Kelly, and Lebowitz into doing the dirty work."
She looked up at him, and the intensity in her gaze made something shift in his chest. "But that person also had to put the fear of God into them. Otherwise, they'd have already rolled over."
That stopped him.
"Think about it," she said. "They'd probably get time off their sentences if they named the real brains behind it. Even if they end up at Club Fed, they want to spend as little time there as possible. So what's stopping them?"
Archer frowned. He had to admit he hadn't fully considered that angle. His attention had been pulled in too many directions. The board. Austin Davis. The constant political maneuvering. But now that she'd said it, he couldn't ignore it.
It changed everything.
"You're right," he said slowly. "It has to be someone who inspires fear as well as loyalty."
"Exactly."
"Do you think it's one person," he asked, "or multiple?"
Tatum shook her head. "I don't know. But I don't think it can be many. Once a secret is shared, it leaks. Even now, there are already four people who know the truth. If you split it up, one lawyer, one investor, one offshore expert, one connector. That's too many moving parts."
"I agree," Archer said. "Though it could still be more than one."
"It could," she allowed. "But whoever it is, they're not sloppy.” She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was hard. "And they're evil."
"Evil is a strong word," Archer said quietly. "You chose it deliberately."
"Yes," she said, meeting his eyes. "Because you can justify targeting the rich. People who can afford to lose money. But going after people who can't, when you already have hundreds of millions? That's evil. That's despicable." Her voice hardened further. "I hope they rot in hell."
The passion in her voice, the absolute conviction of it, did something to him that he hadn't expected.
Made him want to cross the space between them.
Made him want to promise her that he would help her burn whoever did this straight to the ground.
The impulse was sharp and immediate and completely unlike him.
She picked up her tea again and rubbed her face, suppressing a yawn.
"Sorry," she said.
"Don't be." Archer set his mug on the coffee table and stood, needing the distance before he did something he'd regret. "It's late. I'll leave you for the evening. Get some sleep. We'll talk more tomorrow."
Tatum nodded and turned toward the bedroom, her movements slow and exhausted.
Archer reached the door, his hand on the knob, then paused and looked back. She was silhouetted against the firelight, and the sight of her, vulnerable and defiant and beautiful, made his chest tighten in a way he had no business allowing.
"Please let me know if you plan to leave the Society tomorrow."
She turned back to face him. "Why?"
"Because I want security assigned to you."
She clutched a hand to her belly. "You really think I'm in danger?"
"I think tonight's message was very clear," Archer said evenly. "And I'd rather not give them another opportunity."
"Fabulous," Tatum muttered.
A small smile pulled at his mouth despite everything. "It's not so bad. I promise I'll keep you safe."
She nodded, though she looked far from reassured. Her arms wrapped around herself again, and the vulnerability in the gesture hit him somewhere he hadn't expected.
For a split second, the urge was fierce. Cross the room. Pull her close. Bury his face in her hair and make her a promise he fully intended to keep. It wasn't professional. It wasn't measured. It wasn't anything like him.
Forcing this…whatever this was…away, Archer murmured a quiet good night and left, moving down the hall at a pace that was, if he was being honest with himself, slightly faster than usual.
His heart was pounding.
He stopped at the end of the corridor and stood still for a moment, collecting himself with the same deliberate focus he brought to everything else.
Tatum Wellington was getting under his skin.
No one had managed that in years. Not since he'd taken this job, not since he'd made the decision to become the thing the Society needed rather than the thing he might have wanted to be.
He stared at the wall in front of him.
An unwelcomed suspicion grew… He was going to have to rethink everything.