Chapter 3
Unmasked
Nick stepped into the elevator, then turned to watch Kate smiling at Lena. Even exhausted and disheveled, there was something about her—a subtle strength in the set of her shoulders, old wounds in those tired eyes.
A delicate scent of jasmine drifted toward Nick—from the gardens outside, but it seemed to cling to her. The fragrance wrapped around him, unexpectedly intimate, and his pulse kicked up a notch.
She was striking—not beautiful in the conventional sense, but uniquely unforgettable. Something about her face would linger in memory: the sharp intelligence in her gaze, the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide, the way she’d defended Lena despite being ready to collapse from exhaustion.
And those legs. Christ. They seemed to go on for miles beneath that wrinkled skirt, toned and graceful. His imagination sparked, dropping him into a vivid flash of fantasy—those legs wrapped around his waist, her fatigue replaced by a very different kind of breathlessness—
Heat coiled low and urgent in his gut, and he yanked his thoughts back. What the hell are you doing? What was the point of indulging in fantasies when he had no intention of following through? When he couldn’t follow through, not with the complications that came with who and what he was.
The elevator doors started to close, and he noticed David watching the women with unmistakable appreciation.
Eyes on the ball, not the girl, Nick projected, allowing more irritation to slip into his mental tone than he should have.
David’s amusement rippled back through their link, warm and teasing. Says the man who was just picturing—
Shut it.
Just saying, boss. Maybe you should do something about—
I said, shut it. Nick cut the connection, heat crawling up the back of his neck.
Telepathy had a thousand tactical advantages, but sometimes he wished it didn’t give his brothers access to his surface thoughts.
The elevator doors shut, cutting off his view of Kate’s departure. He forced his attention back to the task at hand, to the edginess tightening in his chest as he thought about Victoria Evans.
Zach, where are you?
Office. Victoria’s sitting in front of your desk. I’m in my office with the feed up.
Good. I’ll be up in two minutes.
Nick strode off the elevator and toward the executive offices, David falling in beside him.
“So,” David said, his usual playfulness gone. “Corporate sabotage?”
“Has to be.” Nick’s jaw tightened. “There's no legitimate reason for her to break those blocks. And the attitude she displayed in the lobby...” He shook his head, disgust curling through him. “That wasn’t a stressed manager. That was deliberate cruelty.”
“Want me to dig into her background while you two interrogate?”
“Please. Including those financials that Ms. Danvers mentioned.”
They reached the executive suite. In his mind, Zach’s presence hummed solid and ready. Michael would be at his desk in the outer office, prepared to provide support.
He took a breath, centering himself, letting his polished mask slide into place. Underneath it, though, anger simmered—cold and controlled, but very much present.
Ready? he sent to Zach.
Always.
Nick pushed open the door.
The executive suite was designed for both work and comfort—rich wood paneling and plush carpeting that absorbed sound, furniture that spoke of quality without ostentation.
Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the water, though at this hour, there was nothing to see but darkness and distant pinpricks of boat lights.
Victoria sat in front of his desk, a bottle of water sweating condensation onto a coaster beside her. She looked calm, composed, but tension showed in the set of her shoulders, the way her manicured fingers rested a bit too still on the chair arms.
Zach worked at his own desk through the open connecting door, keeping watch.
Nick settled into his leather chair, letting the silence stretch, watching Victoria’s poise crack at the edges.
Zach, anything on the camera footage yet?
Almost there. David sent me the terminal ID and timestamp. Give me two minutes.
Nick studied Victoria. “We witnessed your interaction with Ms. Danvers and Lena from the car. I’d like to understand what happened from your perspective.”
A flash of annoyance crossed her face before the mask returned. “Simply a reservation mix-up, Mr. Ivory. Nothing unusual. Lena was struggling with the system, so I stepped in to resolve the situation.”
“Struggled how?” Nick kept his tone mild, curious rather than accusatory.
“She was telling the guest that we had villas available when we don’t.
I needed to correct her before Ms. Danvers developed unrealistic expectations.
” Condescension colored Victoria's tone. “Lena is still very new, and she doesn’t always understand the nuances of how we handle difficult situations.”
Got it, Zach cut in. Terminal three at the front desk, Saturday at 8:47 pm. That’s where the deletion command originated. Accessing the video now.
Nick focused back on Victoria. “And these ‘nuances’—do they include dismissing guaranteed reservations without checking the system?”
Victoria’s lips thinned. “I know our inventory, Mr. Ivory. I don’t need the system to tell me what’s available.”
“Perhaps. But do you know the guarantee status of every arrival?” Nick pulled his keyboard tray out, fingers moving across the keys.
“Because according to the system, Ms. Danvers did have a guarantee for Sunset Villa. Reserved nine months ago, confirmed last week by her assistant. That’s not a nuance—that’s a binding commitment. One which you ignored.”
“The block must have been removed for operational reasons—“
“What operational reasons?” Steel edged his words. “What would justify removing a guaranteed block from a future reservation for a unique cottage that requires blocking?”
Victoria shifted, and Nick detected the first actual sign of nervousness—a quick dart of her tongue across her lips. “I’d have to review the notes to be certain, but I’m sure there was a valid reason.”
Nick, you need to watch this.
A notification popped up on Nick’s monitor. He leaned forward and opened it, keeping his expression neutral as video filled the display.
The timestamp read Saturday, 8:45 pm. The angle showed all four terminals at the front desk. Terminals one, two, and four were empty.
And at Terminal three, fingers flying over the keyboard with practiced speed, sat Victoria Evans.
She glanced around, then bent to her work with visible purpose. After several minutes, she straightened, smoothed her skirt, and walked away.
Zach, can you confirm Lena’s location at that time?
Already did. Security badge tracker shows she was on break in the staff cafeteria from 8:30 to 8:55, continuous. No gaps. Confirmed with visual.
And ID 1178?
Used at Terminal 3 for the login. Then at Terminal three again at 10:23 pm the same night, and at 7:14 am on Sunday. All times when Lena’s badge shows her off-property or at different terminals.
Nick pulled up the system logs from David, cross-referencing timestamps. Every deletion, every broken block, traced back to sessions where ID 1178 logged in at Terminal 3—and where Victoria Evans appeared on camera.
Not just a ‘mistake’. Deliberate sabotage, with an attempt to frame a trainee for it.
He looked up at Victoria, who was watching him with growing wariness.
“Ms. Evans, I want to give you an opportunity to be honest with me.” Nick kept his voice level, professional. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me about the reservation system? Any… unusual activity you might have noticed?”
Victoria’s expression hardened. “If you’re referring to Lena’s incompetence, yes, I have plenty to say about that. The girl is unsuitable for this position.”
“In what way?”
“In every way!” Irritation flooded through Victoria’s rigid facade. “She questions everything, thinks she knows better than I do how things should be run. She has no respect for authority or protocol. And frankly, sir, she never should have been hired in the first place.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“Because Emma Vann—our HR manager, who is equally incompetent—didn’t properly vet her.” Victoria leaned forward. “Lena was fired from her last job for theft! She was arrested. There were newspaper articles. It’s all in her file.”
He punched a button on his desk phone. “Michael, please pull the hiring paperwork for Lena, the front desk clerk. I’d like to see it immediately.”
“Yes, sir. It’ll be on your screen in a minute,” Michael responded.
“And please pull up Emma Vann’s file as well, including her hiring statistics.”
It’s about time someone listened to me! Victoria’s smug thought crept into his mind.
“And you brought this to Emma’s attention?” He leaned back in his chair.
“Of course I did! Multiple times! But she hired Lena anyway, ignoring my far more experienced assessment.” Victoria’s hands gestured sharply, her composure abandoning her now.
“This is the kind of poor judgment that’s been plaguing this resort.
Incompetent HR, substandard trainees, and management that refuses to listen to those of us who do know what we’re doing. ”
“Hmm, so you believe we are incompetent? Hold that thought. Here’s Lena’s file now.” He gripped the mouse, scanning down with quick, practiced eyes. There were indeed newspaper articles included.
The hiring notes from Emma Vann were meticulous: full background check completed, all references checked, criminal record clear, newspaper articles provided by Lena herself as part of her explanation of the employment gap.
Emma’s assessment: ‘Candidate showed integrity by disclosing situation. Investigation skills and attention to detail during her efforts to clear her name are impressive. Strong hire for a detail-oriented customer service position. Recommend.’
Nick looked up at Victoria, still radiating righteous indignation.