Chapter 36
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
Natalie walked back toward the office building, acutely aware of Hudson beside her and the black sedan still idling in the parking garage within spitting distance.
Security her father had hired to watch her and report back to him.
The violation of it—the control—made her want to scream.
She paused near the door and lowered her voice. “This is a problem.”
“It’s a complication,” Hudson corrected. “Not insurmountable.”
“Those guys are going to spot your backup. That puts us in a dangerous position.”
“Agreed. We’re going to have to pivot.”
“And how am I supposed to gather intelligence on my father when his security team is watching my every move?”
Hudson glanced back at the sedan, then guided her to the side of the entrance where they’d have more privacy. “We adapt. Work within the constraints.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re trained for this.” Natalie wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling exposed in the open parking garage. “I’m just a communications director who’s in way over her head.”
“You’re more than that.” Hudson’s voice was quiet but firm. “You found the Dubai connection. You noticed patterns my team missed. You’re doing better than most trained operatives would in your situation.”
The compliment should have felt good. Instead, a fresh wave of anger surged through her.
“Don’t do that,” she said.
His eyes narrowed. “Do what?”
“Don’t manage me, and don’t try to manipulate me with compliments and reassurance.”
Something flickered across Hudson’s face—hurt, maybe, or frustration. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Isn’t it?” Natalie’s voice rose slightly, and she forced herself to lower it.
“You’re so good at this, Hudson. At saying exactly what people need to hear to make them trust you, to make them do what you want.
How am I supposed to know when you’re being genuine and when you’re just playing your role? ”
Hudson was quiet a moment, his jaw tight.
When he spoke, his voice sounded carefully controlled.
“You’re right. You can’t know. And I understand why you don’t trust me.
But, Natalie, regardless of how you feel about me personally, we’re in this together now.
We both want the same thing—to figure out if your father is really planning an attack and stop it if he is. ”
“Do we really want the same thing?” Natalie challenged. “Because I want to prove my father is innocent. You already think he’s guilty. We’re not on the same side at all.”
“We’re both on the side of truth.” Hudson locked gazes with her. “Wherever that leads.”
Natalie studied Hudson’s face, looking for any sign of deception, any tell that would reveal what he was really thinking. But his expression remained neutral, professional.
There was nothing else to discuss concerning her father. Not right now. Not while security watched them.
Speaking of security . . .
She nodded at the sedan. “What do we do about them?”
Hudson blew out a breath. “Tonight at dinner, we address it with your father. Make the case that visible security makes you a harder target but doesn’t actually make you safer. Push for him to pull them back.”
“And if he refuses?”
His expression darkened. “Then we assume everything we do is being watched and plan accordingly. It means we can’t meet privately, can’t have conversations that aren’t in character, can’t do anything that might raise suspicion.”
The implications settled over Natalie like a weight. She was trapped between her father’s surveillance and Hudson’s operation, with no privacy, no space to process what was happening, no room to make mistakes.
“I need to get back to work,” she said, exhaustion suddenly hitting her. “Try to pretend today is normal. Try to pretend my house wasn’t just broken into and I’m not being followed by my father’s security team.”
“Natalie—”
“I can’t,” she interrupted. “Besides, we need to get inside.”
She turned and walked toward the elevator before he could respond, before the tears threatening to spill could actually fall.
She wouldn’t cry. Not here, not where Hudson and her father’s security team could see.
She’d save that for later when she was alone in her violated house. Only then would she try to figure out how her life had become this nightmare where she couldn’t trust her father, couldn’t trust the man she’d thought she loved, couldn’t even trust herself to know what was real anymore.
They stepped inside, and the elevator doors closed. As they did, Natalie saw Hudson’s reflection in the polished metal.
For a moment, just a moment, she let herself wonder if the regret on his face was real or just another performance.
She forced herself to stop wondering.
It didn’t matter anymore what Hudson Roberts felt or didn’t feel.
She only needed to concentrate on surviving whatever came next.