Chapter 31
Mira
Rolling over, I came face to face with Micah’s wide, cheerful grin as he held out a cup of coffee with a heavy hint of vanilla. “Wakey, wakey, Sunshine.”
“Told you, I already emailed, last night.” I pulled the comforter over my head. The next thing I knew, the comforter was gone.
“Okay, you’ve moped around all weekend. I have to go to work. And if you’re not there in an hour, I’ll be back.”
“No.”
“Mira, either suck it up, pull on your big girl panties, or tell me what happened.”
I sighed and sat up, taking the coffee from him despite myself. He’d hadn’t left me alone since he’d pulled me out of the car Saturday.
I cradled the mug between my hands. This wasn’t something from my cabinet.
“That’s not fair,” I muttered.
Micah leaned back against the dresser, arms crossed. He was waiting for me to get up before he left, if I didn’t, he’d be late, and Stan would have a field day.
He glanced at his watch, then back at me. “Tell me you’ll be there.”
I didn’t want to lie to him, so I forced myself off the bed. Heading to the bathroom, I stopped and kissed him on the cheek. “Have a good day.”
He kissed my cheek and headed out as I stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door. Before I could let myself go crawl back into bed, I turned on the water. A few moments later, I stepped under the hot water, hoping that it would wash away all of my racing thoughts.
The water beat down on my shoulders, steam curling around me, filling the small space until everything else blurred. I pressed my forehead against the cool tile and breathed.
It didn’t help.
The last few weeks, the voices had been quieter, I’d almost convinced myself they were gone. I’d almost convinced myself they were gone for good. Now they were back at full volume, overlapping, relentless.
I scrubbed my hands over my face, letting the water sting my eyes. “Stop,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure who I was talking to anymore.
Eventually the heat became too much, and I shut the water off. I dried off, pulled on jeans and a soft sweater. Maybe I’d go out today just not to work. I couldn’t.
When I opened the bathroom door, the apartment greeted me with silence and light spilling through the windows. Micah was gone. The bed behind me looked inviting. So did my computer on the kitchen table.
I still had a puzzle that was starting to piss me off. It was the only thing that kept my mind off of things yesterday and allowed me to semi-function. Even though I most likely would be looking for a new job soon, I still cared about what happened to Sentinel Tech even with what Mr. Reid had done.
I forced my feet forward, past the bedroom, into the living room.
And stopped, sighing.
Flowers.
Everywhere.
They covered the entry table, crowded the kitchen counter, lined the windowsill. Bouquets in glass vases, paper-wrapped stems leaning against chairs, petals scattered like someone had lost control halfway through arranging them. Roses. Lilies. Something pale and delicate I couldn’t name.
The air smelled like spring and apology and something far more personal.
My chest tightened. Micah had teased me about each delivery. Each one had a card. Some varied from I’m Sorry to Let me explain to Can we talk?. None of them were signed but I knew exactly who had sent them.
I didn’t touch any of them.
One bouquet sat alone on the coffee table, larger than the rest, white roses.
I stared at it for a long moment, then turned away.
I couldn’t see him today.
Not his calm voice. Not the way he listened like every word mattered. Not the look he got when he thought I was about to bolt and let me anyway.
Work could wait. Stan could wait. Even Micah could wait a few hours.
But facing Sebastian?
That would break me.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and typed out a message to Micah quickly before I could second-guess myself.
I’m not going in today. I’ll come by later.
I sent it, then placed the phone face down on the counter.
I picked up my laptop instead and sat at the table, opening the puzzle like it was a lifeline.
If I couldn’t fix everything else today, I could at least fix this.
And for now, that would have to be enough.
The files loaded, lines of code and data snapping into place on my screen like they always did. Familiar. Safe. I wrapped my hands around my mug again, letting the warmth steady me as my brain slipped into its preferred rhythm.
Patterns. Logic. Cause and effect.
This was easier than dealing with people.
I lost track of time, chasing inconsistencies, mapping connections. The further I dug, the more my irritation sharpened into focus. Something wasn’t lining up.
We knew it was internal. We’d known that much from the start. But they hadn’t taken the bait.
Our systems logged everything. Every access. Every touch point. We’d been staring at accounting, at who authorized the payments to the shadow company.
But what if it had nothing to do with accounting at all?
What if the person wasn’t in accounting either?
I hesitated, then pulled up a log.
When I’d been moved to the top floor, within a few weeks Hale had given me high-level clearance. Enough to see more than most. Enough to be dangerous. But not enough to do everything.
Hale was the only one with full clearance to certain systems. The kind that left no fingerprints unless you knew exactly where to look.
Micah and his team were in the same category I was. Trusted. Necessary. Still locked out of some doors.
Several logins from different stations, but it didn’t make sense until I opened our absence log and started scanning employee emails.
The dates lined up too neatly to be a coincidence.
Vacations. Sick days. Conferences. Desks that should’ve been empty lighting up like Christmas trees.
My stomach tightened.
Someone wasn’t just hiding their tracks.
They were borrowing other people’s absence.
I stopped scrolling.
Because one name appeared more than once.
And it shouldn’t have.
I saved everything to my thumb drive and slipped it into my pocket. I was halfway through pulling on my shoes when a knock sounded at the door.
I sighed and glanced toward the flowers, assuming it was another delivery. Another apology wrapped in guilt for fucking me while I was blindfolded, letting me believe he was a stranger when he was anything but.
I didn’t bother checking the peephole. When I opened the door, my stomach dropped, and I automatically went to close it.
Stan stuck his foot in the doorway before I could get the door shut and shoved it open, knocking me back a step.
He closed and locked the door behind him.
“Where’s your phone?”
I backed up toward the kitchen, making sure I left room to get away.
“Lost it.”
He chuckled. “You’re a really bad liar, Ms. Rhodes.”
Before I knew what was happening, Stan lunged forward, grabbed my purse off the table, and dumped the contents onto the table. He picked up my phone and slid it into his back pocket.
I moved at the same time, trying to move past him to get to he door.
He cursed and stumbled back a step, reaching inside his jacket.
“Don’t,” he snapped.
The word cracked as he pulled the gun out too fast, like he hadn’t meant to show it just yet.
I froze. Had he lost his mind?
It wasn’t pointed at me. Not exactly. His hand shook, the barrel hovering somewhere between my chest and the wall behind me. What scared me most was that his finger was over the trigger. One slip and I was dead whether he meant it to happen or not.
“I don’t want to do this,” he said, his breath labored as if he was warding off his own panic attack. “But you don’t get to decide how this goes. I don’t care if you’re fucking the whole trio. You’re going to fix this.”
There was that phrase again. Fix this. Nothing was broken. Not that I knew of. What type of trouble was he in?
I lifted my hands slowly, trying my hardest to keep my voice even.
“You brought a gun into my apartment,” I said. “That’s not leverage. That’s a mistake.”
His jaw clenched. “You think I don’t know that?”
Good. At least he knew.
Which meant he was scared.
“Sit.”
He flashed the photo of me coming out of Sanctum. “I warned you.”
I sat down in the chair at my kitchen table and folded my arms. Why was he going through all of this? Then it hit me. “It was you. You hacked the system.”
“And if you had left things alone, I would have been very rich right now and no one would have been the wiser.”
“You still have a good sum of money. Just take it and go.”
Stan laughed. Not loud. Not amused. The kind of laugh that said he thought I was naive.
“Go?” he repeated. “You really think that’s an option?”
I held his gaze. “You got what you wanted. Enough to disappear.”
His smile thinned. “I didn’t get what I earned.”
Something flickered in his eyes. It wasn’t greed.
It was panic.
“You don’t understand how this works,” he said. “I don’t get to just walk away.”
I felt it then. The shift.
This wasn’t about money anymore. It was about survival.
“You don’t understand how close I was,” he continued. “How clean it would have been if you hadn’t started asking questions, hadn’t started snooping where you didn’t belong.”
“I was looking out for the company,” I said.
“No,” he snapped. “You are paid to take orders from me.” He pointed a finger at his chest.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a laptop, setting it on the table between us.
What was he doing with Victor Hale’s company laptop?
My pulse spiked despite myself.
“You’re going to fix this,” he said through gritted teeth.
I didn’t move to reach for the laptop. “Fix what?”
Stan’s eyes flicked to the screen, then back to me.
He placed two index cards down on the table. Each one had three account numbers on them.
“The funds in these accounts need to be routed to these,” he said, tapping each card in turn.
I stared at the numbers without leaning in. “Those aren’t accounting accounts.”
“No,” he said flatly.
“They’re operational,” I continued. “You can’t just—”
“—move them?” he finished. “Watch me.”
“You’re asking me to reroute internal funds,” I said, slowly. “Without authorization.”
“I’m asking you to correct a mistake,” Stan replied. “One you helped create.”
“I didn’t touch those accounts.”
“You started snooping around,” he said.
“That’s not how this works,” I said.
“It is now.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Because once the money moves, the trail points back to you.”
My stomach dropped. “You’re setting me up.”
“I’m giving you an opportunity,” he said. “Fix the problem quietly, or take the fall loudly.”
I met his gaze, my heart pounding. “And if I refuse?”
Stan smiled, and ice ran down my spine. “Then I do this without you. And when it blows up, I make sure your fingerprints are all over it. Micah’s too.”
The laptop hummed between us.
“You’re running out of time,” he said.
“I can’t do anything with this.” Did he think I was stupid? He was here because he couldn’t do it. The only reason he was still where he was was because he had talented analysts he oversaw, not because he had any talent himself.
He slammed down a security key. One of three in existence for Sentinel Tech. “Try this.”
I swallowed and glanced at my stuff scattered on the table, glad I’d put the thumb drive in my pocket. Now I just didn’t know how to get it to the guys.
When he plugged the key into the computer, it came alive. How had Stan gotten his hand on Hale’s Hardware Security Key?
“Get to work, Ms. Rhodes. Clock is ticking.” He paced on the other side of the table.
I leaned forward slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
I needed to drag this out. Needed to buy time.
I just didn’t know how I was going to do that with Stan breathing down my neck.