42. Harlan
HARLAN
We fucking did it.
For the first time in what feels like weeks, nobody’s waiting for the next disaster.
The launch is live. The numbers are climbing faster than we’d dared hope, social media’s exploding, and the first wave of press coverage is overwhelmingly positive.
Every screen around the room glows with dashboards full of green instead of amber and red.
We accomplished the fucking impossible.
I lean back in my chair for the first time all day, scrubbing both hands over my face. My shoulders ache, my neck’s stiff, and I’m ready to take the next year off work to recuperate.
Or, you know, the night.
I’ve lived on caffeine and spite for the better part of a month, and it’s only now that the adrenaline begins to ebb enough for exhaustion to creep in.
Across the table, Hallie lets out a long breath, sinking back into her chair as the dashboards reflect green across her face. She gives me a smile.
“I think,” she says carefully, “we can officially stop expecting the building to catch fire.”
A tired laugh ripples around the room. Even Orion cracks a smile.
“Give it an hour, and I’m sure something else will go wrong,” he mutters, but I hope he’s wrong.
Someone slides a fresh coffee towards me. I don’t even look to see who. I just take it with a grunt before opening the next email waiting in my inbox.
Because, of course, there’s no rest for the wicked. The campaign might be safe, but we’ve still got the legal bullshit going on regarding the Visaro theft.
They’ve been cooperating since their legal team realised how badly this mess was going for them, and by the looks of it, they’ve found something useful.
They’ve shared everything they discovered relating to the breach. Their words, not mine. I personally would call it theft.
Robbery.
Plagiarism.
But with their cooperation, hopefully we can finally understand what the fuck happened.
I click open the email, skimming through each paragraph without much interest.
Most of it’s exactly what I’d expect. I click on the attachment, which contains copies of our work.
Nothing really stands out.
Pages of our notes, some campaign iterations, a few versions of older drafts that we’d rejected weeks ago.
Nothing that would lead to identifying a specific person, not even—fuck.
My stomach drops so hard it almost hurts as I read this document.
I know this document. I know every bloody comment in the margin. The highlighted sections, the cute little notes that were meant for me.
Cassidy edited this. She typed it all up, outlined it all, and these are her suggestions.
The handwriting is hers. It’s not a copy, not just something similar.
It’s fucking identical.
On paper, this looks catastrophic. The moment anyone from Legal or HR reads their email…
Fuck.
Cassidy wouldn’t do this. She could never. But someone has clearly been stealing from her, doing their fucking best to paint a target on my mate’s back.
“Harlan,” Hallie calls. My head snaps up, and I realise I’m growling at her.
“I see you’re reading it, too, then,” she says with a sigh.
“She didn’t fucking do it,” I snarl, unable to hold back the growl when her eyes narrow.
Orion leans back. “Who didn’t do what?”
I can’t answer him. Not when I’m one second away from smashing my fucking laptop and going to find my mate to make sure nobody accuses her of shit she hasn’t done.
Again.
She simply fucking wouldn’t do this.
Not my omega who cried herself sick because she thought she’d cost us this campaign.
Not the woman who’s spent every day since working stupid hours trying to help repair something someone else fucked.
If she’d done this, even if it were accidental, she’d have walked straight into my office before anyone else had the chance to find out and confessed through tears, convinced she’d destroyed everything we’d built.
She wouldn’t hide.
She wouldn’t lie.
She wouldn’t let me carry this.
Someone wanted this to look like Cassidy. Someone has used her as a scapegoat for their bullshit.
Someone’s fucking used her.
I reach for my phone, calling the one person who might be able to get some information on this.
Evander answers on the second ring.
“What’s up?”
“I need you,” I reply, ignoring the looks from Hallie and Orion.
This is no longer about work. No, this is about someone coming for my fucking mate.
It’s a pack issue, and we’ll get to the bottom of it.
Evander doesn’t bother knocking when he arrives.
The office door swings open less than five minutes later, and he strides inside with Isaac on his heels, both of them still wearing their coats from outside. They take one look at my face before the humour evaporates from Evander’s expression.
“What happened?”
I shove the laptop across the desk. “Read it.”
Hallie frowns. “You’re not meant to share—”
“Oh, fuck off, Hallie,” Orion says with a little laugh. “We all know that she never did this.”
Hallie shrugs. “The evidence is there.”
I growl again, and Orion laughs.
“You’re really determined to push his buttons, aren’t you,” he teases.
I flip them both off. “Cassidy would never. So, my priority is figuring out how some fucking cunt—”
“Okay, Harlan,” Isaac says, and I shut my mouth so fast.
Maybe I’m losing my cool.
But who the fuck wouldn’t in my situation?
Evander pushes my laptop back to me and frowns. “So, they’re complying?”
I nod. “But did you see her writing?”
Isaac and Evander both nod. The beta sighs as he braces one hand against the edge of my desk, while Evander’s scent darkens just like mine.
“Neither of you is going to be much help to Cassie if you can’t control yourselves,” Isaac warns. “Her office is never locked, right?”
I shake my head. “She was never given the key for it.”
“That’s a liability,” Hallie says with a frown. “Why doesn’t she have a key?”
Guilt laces through me, but I’m not admitting it to her. Nosy bitch.
The reason she wasn’t given the key is because I didn’t want to risk her locking me out when she might need me.
At least at first.
Then, I honestly just forgot.
Isaac’s eyes pierce mine, and I look away rather than admitting it.
“The annotations on a few of these are Cassidy’s,” Evander says darkly. His jaw tightens. “Someone’s been stealing from her.”
And that’s the worst fucking thing. This isn’t a sloppy mistake.
It isn’t someone forwarding the wrong file or accidentally attaching the wrong draft.
Someone wanted Cassidy’s fingerprints all over this, and I have no fucking idea why. She’s the sweetest person I’ve ever fucking met.
Evander looks up. “Legal know?”
Hallie shakes her head. “I doubt it. We know because of his reaction, but I doubt anyone outside of you four would recognise her work just yet. You’ve got some time.”
“And you’re going to keep your mouth shut?” Evander asks.
Hallie growls at him, her eyes narrowing. “You’ll get one chance to stop the alpha posturing before I show you that even without a fucking cock, I’m a better one than you.”
Orion laughs, but he’s serious when he answers. “Neither of us will say a word.”
“Everyone is going to be asking the same questions, though,” Hallie warns. “You need to get a handle on this as soon as possible.”
“I don’t give a shit what this looks like. Cassidy didn’t do it,” I repeat.
Neither of them argue.
Isaac nods. “We know, bro, we know. I think our best chance is reaching out to Carter and asking for his input.”
I push back from the desk, pacing once across the office before forcing myself to stop.
Every instinct is screaming at me to go downstairs, find Cassidy, press my nose briefly to her hair or neck, reassure myself she’s all right.
Instead, I’m trapped here dealing with the fucking campaign launch that we’ve been working towards.
I don’t fucking care anymore. I’d happily let it burn if it meant I could step in and protect her.
My calendar for the rest of the afternoon is fucking packed.
Media interviews, board calls, and investor updates. Every single one dependant upon me being there.
I fucking hate it.
“I can’t investigate this right now,” I say, the admission tasting bitter. “If I vanish today, people will notice, and they’ll start asking questions.”
Evander folds his arms. “Then, I’ll do it. Isaac can check in on Cassidy, and I’ll go up to find Sterling.”
“Sterling is unlikely to be able to give you answers,” Hallie warns.
“Cassidy is his cousin,” I tell her. “He’s going to be out for blood and will be able to make some of the decisions we can’t in order to protect her whilst we get a handle on this shit.”
“That’s a good idea,” Hallie admits.
I just need to know someone else has her when I can’t—that whilst I’m stuck spending the next six fucking hours smiling for cameras, someone is looking out for her.
If I can keep my cool and not rip someone’s fucking head off, then he can get this done.
I meet Evander’s eyes.
“We don’t need you to prove Cassidy is innocent.” I pause because that part has never been in question. “We already know she is.”
The room falls quiet, Hallie raising an annoying brow at me.
“What we need,” I say, my voice dropping into something colder, “is for you to prove who did this to her.”
Evander gives one sharp nod. “I’ll find them.”
“I know.”
Because if there’s one thing Evander Whitmore does better than almost anyone else, it’s solving problems.
And somebody has just made the mistake of turning my mate into one.
EVANDER
I don’t waste time asking questions once I leave Harlan’s office.
He’s already told me everything I could need to know.
Someone’s framed our mate.
And whoever’s done it has managed to convince an entire legal department that she might’ve been responsible.
Fucking cunt.
My jaw clenches so hard it aches. The moment I get my hands on them, they’ll be sorry.
The thought of her carrying the blame because someone else thought she was an easy target… fuck.
Someone other than her—other than us—has accessed her office without permission and taken files that did not belong to them.
Meaning Sterling should be able to trawl through the security footage and find anyone who’s been going into her office.