Chapter Twenty-Two
Darhg
Everything except Rona fades to the background as I hold my mate in my arms.
The soft warmth of her mouth, the way she melts against my chest. This is where she belongs. This is where I belong. I kiss her for a long time, losing myself in the taste of her, in the smell of her. Then someone coughs behind me, and reality comes rushing back.
I have Rona back, but my job is not done yet. I set her gently beside me, but I don't take my arms away from her. I need to feel her against me. I’ll go mad if I don’t.
"Senator Quinn," I say, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "I need five uninterrupted minutes with you."
Her expression hardens immediately. "You have some nerve showing up here."
"Mom, please." Rona's voice cuts through the tension, her hand finding mine. "Just listen to him."
Senator Quinn's gaze flicks between us, taking in our joined hands, the way Rona leans into my side. Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't order me to leave.
"You were dismissed, Mr. Rooke," she says coldly. "I made my position clear."
"You did," I acknowledge. "I’m not here to ask for my job back."
Senator Quinn’s eyes narrow as she stares at me. “Then what do you want?”
“I came with proof that someone very close to you has been working against Rona this whole time.” As I say the words, I see the senator’s eyes widen.
Caroline steps forward, her wings fluttering nervously. "Senator, we don't have time for this. The media downstairs is pushing for answers, and I’ve just heard that Cassius Roarke is asking for your removal from the Digital Integrity committee."
"The media can wait," Rona interrupts firmly, surprising everyone in the room with the steel in her voice. "This is more important than damage control. If Darhg says someone on our team has been behind all that, then I need to know. So does my daughter."
Senator Quinn studies her daughter for a long moment, something shifting in her expression as Rona stands her ground in front of her mother. The temperature in the room shifts from outright hostility to wary suspicion.
“Five minutes.” Senator Quinn turns to me, her face closed off. “Not a second more.”
Five minutes is all I need. I motion for Malcolm to step into the room, and he walks in, then immediately plops down at the conference table, opening his laptop. He barely even glances at the senator, absorbed as he is with his computer screen.
"This is Malcolm Bridgeman." I gesture to the troll beside me. "He's the best cybersecurity expert in the country."
Recognition flickers across the senator's face. "Bridgeman… from Bridgeman Securities? You contracted with the Defense Department last year on the election security protocols."
“That's correct, Senator.” Malcolm straightens slightly, pulling his attention away from his screen to smile at her, pleased to be recognized. “And I can guarantee that what I found on your daughter's phone is going to interest you very much.”
"Okay, you have my attention." Senator Quinn looks from me to Malcolm. “Now speak.”
The room's atmosphere shifts again as Senator Quinn realizes I’m not bluffing.
She knows who Malcolm is and she doesn’t need any more convincing of his abilities.
He’s also rich enough to be quite literally above bribery, which makes his opinion pretty much above suspicion.
Caroline hovers near the table, her moss-green wings twitching with nerves, but for once she remains silent.
"In plain terms," I say, meeting the senator’s gaze directly, "someone with Asterion admin access used Rona's account to publish the deepfake and then released all her private messages and photos. She didn’t cause any of this."
"Can you find out who did it?" Senator Quinn asks, her voice sharp with interest.
“Whoever did this was clever.” Malcolm leans forward in his chair, his yellow eyes bright with the thrill of the hunt. "The perpetrator knows Asterion inside and out, like they wrote the code themselves. They scrubbed their trail almost perfectly." His grin turns feral. "Almost."
The senator remains quiet, intent on listening to what Malcolm has to say.
“I tried for days to hunt them down, but in the end, their tracks were too well covered, so I knew I needed to think outside the box.” He turns back to his laptop, fingers flying over the keys. “Luckily for me, thinking outside the box is an old habit.”
“Get on with it!” I snap at Malcolm, and the troll’s grin falters a bit. I know he likes to gloat about how smart he is, but we’re on borrowed time here. “Get to the point.”
“Well, I set up a trap about twenty-four hours ago,” Malcolm says with a pout in my direction. “I uploaded a fresh selfie to Rona's Asterion account as bait. Of course, I seeded the image with a tracer.”
Malcolm’s grin comes back with a vengeance, and his gaze goes from Senator Quinn to Rona, then to me. “The moment the admin responsible opened that asset on their machine, they were mine.”
"So you have a name," Senator Quinn demands, moving closer to the table.
“Not quite.” Malcolm's fingers hover over the trackpad. "Senator, when I trigger this alarm, it will identify the device responsible. Are you prepared for what we might find?"
The question hangs heavy in the air. I watch Senator Quinn's face as the implications sink in.
"Do it," she says firmly.
Malcolm taps the trackpad once.
Immediately, the alarm shrieks through the conference room, a piercing, electronic wail that makes everyone jump. But it's not coming from Malcolm's laptop.
All eyes in the room turn to a small figure about to slip out of the room through the back door.
Caroline Sparks holds her laptop to her chest like her life depends on it, her face white as a sheet.
Her moss-green wings flutter at her back nervously as she edges toward the door, panic written across her delicate features.
I step smoothly into her path. She’s not getting away with it. Not this time.
"Hand it over," I tell her, my voice level but implacable.
"I don't know what this is," she says, her voice pitched higher than usual. Her gaze shifts to the senator as she speaks, and she points a tiny finger at me accusingly. "This is some kind of mistake. Darhg's trying to frame me because you fired him!"
Senator Quinn's voice cuts through Caroline's protests like a blade. "That laptop is campaign property, Caroline. Hand it over. Now."
Caroline’s hand curves even more protectively around her still-screaming laptop. Rona moves then, her face set in fierce, determined lines. She snatches Caroline's laptop from her hands, ignoring the pixie’s protests, and passes it directly to Malcolm, who's already pulling out a cable.
"Got it," Malcolm says, plugging into the device. He unlocks it in seconds, and code begins scrolling across his screen. After a few moments, the troll pushes back, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Fuck! She's been monitoring everything: location, calls, texts. For weeks."
"Call the police," Senator Quinn says, her voice deadly quiet.
That's when Caroline finally breaks.
"I did it for you!" she bursts out, whirling to face Senator Quinn with venom in her voice. "Everything I did was to protect your career! That little brat was going to destroy everything you worked for with her reckless behavior!"
The hatred in Caroline's voice as she spits the word "brat" while glaring at Rona makes something primal and violent surge in my chest. Every protective instinct I possess flares to life.
"She wasn’t even interested in politics," Caroline continues, her composure completely shattered. "She was going to embarrass you eventually, anyway. I did this to protect you, that’s all."
"By creating fake pornography of my daughter?" Senator Quinn's voice could freeze hell itself. “By releasing her private pictures and text conversations for the whole country to judge?”
"By showing everyone who she really is!" Caroline's wings flutter frantically as she gestures wildly. "A spoiled little princess who thinks the world revolves around her! You deserved better than being dragged down by her selfishness!"
I signal to the security agents by the door, who move forward to escort Caroline to the adjoining room. "Hold her there until the police arrive."
Caroline's protests and curses echo through the suite until the door closes, cutting off her vitriol. The sudden quiet feels profound after the chaos.
Senator Quinn turns to me, and for the first time since I've known her, she looks genuinely shaken. "Darhg, I owe you an apology. And I'd like to offer you your position back."
I feel Rona's hand slip into mine, her fingers warm and steady. I shake my head.
"Senator, I'm not the one who needs the apology."
Understanding flickers across her face. Senator Quinn faces her daughter, and I watch years of political armor crack away to reveal something raw and vulnerable underneath. For the first time since I began working for her, Senator Melissa Quinn looks like a mother.
"Rona," she says quietly, "I'm so sorry. I should have believed you from the beginning. I should have protected you instead of protecting myself."
Rona's grip on my hand tightens, and I can feel some of the tension leave her shoulders. "Thank you," she whispers.
I turn to Rona then, looking down into those pale-blue eyes that contain the entire world.
"You're free now," I tell her, my voice rough with emotion. "Free to live as you choose. Free to live your own life, to be exactly who you want to be."
Her smile is radiant as she replies, "The only life I want is with you."
I kiss her then, long and sure, tasting salt and relief and the promise of tomorrow on her lips. When we break apart, I turn back to Senator Quinn.
"I won't be returning to your detail," I say firmly. "I'm taking my mate home to Saltford Bay. For good."
Senator Quinn studies us for a long moment, taking in our joined hands, the way Rona leans into my side like she’s always been there. Something shifts in her expression, a kind of recognition or acceptance.
"Will you at least consider consulting work?" she asks. "Someone I can call when things get complicated?"
I glance down at Rona, who nods encouragingly.
"We'll consider it," I say. "But Saltford Bay is our home now."
Rona’s smile suddenly falls. “How are we going to get out of here without the press after us? It’s a circus down there.”
“Leave that to me,” Senator Quinn declares, pulling her phone from her pocket. “I have something to tell them that will make them forget all about Rona, anyway.”
I frown and look at the shrewd politician, who answers with a smile as sharp as broken glass.
“Malcolm here said that Rona’s Asterion account was corrupted by someone with admin access.
” The senator’s already brittle smile turns predatory.
I shiver at the thought of being on the receiving end of that woman’s anger.
“From where I’m standing, there’s no other way this could have happened than someone working inside Asterion Media who gave Caroline that access. ”
The senator glances at Malcolm. “Of course, if the great Malcolm Bridgeman would be willing to take the stand and testify to this at my committee, it would convince any jury.”
Malcolm considers the senator for a long moment before nodding. “You know this means implicating Cassius Roarke himself, right? He’s a powerful man. Not one you want as an enemy.”
Senator Quinn scoffs. “Young man, I’ve dealt with worse men than Cassius Roarke in my career.”
And I believe it. But that's her battle now, not mine and not Rona’s.
I turn back to Rona, who's watching me with an expression so full of love and trust it nearly brings me to my knees.
"Ready to go home?" I ask.
"More than ready," she says, then looks past me to Malcolm. "Thank you. For everything."
Malcolm grins, looking pleased with himself. "Just doing my job. And hey—if you ever need someone to trace more bad guys, you know where to find me."
As we prepare to leave, Senator Quinn catches my arm. "Take care of her," she says quietly.
"Always," I promise, and I mean it with every fiber of my being.
We walk out of that sterile conference room together, past the security agents and the churning chaos of Caroline's arrest, into the hotel corridor that smells like industrial carpet and stale air. But all I can focus on is Rona's hand in mine, warm and real and choosing me.
Choosing us.
"So," Rona says, her voice light with barely contained laughter, "think that paint set is still waiting for me?"
"Every brush, every tube, exactly where you left them," I tell her, pulling her closer.
“I love you,” she says, her eyes shining bright with unshed tears.
"And I love you," I tell her, the words coming easier each time I say them. I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "You are everything to me, Rona Quinn. Everything and more."
I'm looking forward to tomorrow and all the tomorrows after that.
Toward forever with my mate, my love, my Rona.
Home.