8. Chapter Eight #3
The words are precise. Controlled. Far too controlled. His eyes never leave mine, and suddenly I understand this isn’t curiosity. He isn’t asking because he wants to know more about my past. And judging by the dangerous calm settling over him, I don’t think they’re going to enjoy being found.
He traces my jaw as his golden gaze roams my face.
“You’re not going to disappear. Not when you’re the smartest person I know.
” His eyes move over my face, and the gold hasn’t come back but the amber has deepened, gone less flat, and his finger stills against my jaw.
“And you’re —“ A pause. “You’re too beautiful to go missing.”
The words hit somewhere beneath my ribs. For half a breath, I forget to be suspicious. I forget to catalog his motives and measure my response. Something bright and reckless flickers to life in my chest, and I almost — almost — let it catch.
Then reality sinks back in. How easy it is to get caught up in everything that Zavin is.
An asset. That’s all I am to him.
I know that. I’ve always known it. I’m here because I’m useful, not because he enjoys my company or wants me around. I have a skill he needs. That’s it.
So why tell me I’m beautiful?
The question catches and sticks. Manipulation. It has to be.
Males like Zavin don’t need compliments to get what they want. He’s attractive enough that people probably throw themselves at him every day. He doesn’t need to persuade me to do anything except keep breathing.
I’m useful to him. Valuable.
Nothing more. Nothing else makes sense.
He pulls his hand back, a frown crossing his face. “There’s no use not telling you now.”
And with sudden, sickening clarity, I understand what that expression means. The redactions. The missing names. The scrubbed locations. They weren’t there to obstruct my investigation.
They were there to protect me.
He’d known exactly what was buried in those files. Known what would happen if I found it. So he’d cut the dangerous parts away and handed me only what he thought I could safely have.
How can I be this stupid?
I’d spent days cursing the gaps, convinced they were inefficiency or control or some deliberate attempt. It never occurred to me that he might have been trying to keep me alive.
He moves to the kitchen while I burn. I hear the clink of glass, the clean knock of a bottle against the rim, a dark resinous note cutting through the filtered air.
I turn in my chair. There’s alcohol in there?
He reappears with two glasses, sets one down on my desk, and takes a long pull from his own.
“You’ll want that,” he says.
I look at the glass, then at him. I pick it up and slug the liquid back, coughing at the burn.
His brows lift before he looks into the unfinished content of his own drink and swirls it around. “Selin was my operative and she was discovered and killed.”
He tips his head back and throws the last of his drink back. “She came to me because she wanted to work somewhere that wasn’t under my brother’s control. I built her a cover. Ran her through my personal channels. Promised her she’d be invisible.”
My eyes lift to Zavin. This isn’t a breach investigation anymore. Someone was murdered. And whoever erased Selin from the records knew exactly why they were doing it.
“You don’t need to know that she was buried. What matters is who killed her. That’s why you needed me to trace whoever has infiltrated your system.”
If they learn I’ve reconstructed what they tried to bury, there’s no reason to think they’ll stop at one body. Zavin knows it too.
That’s why he’d given me redacted information. Not to obstruct the investigation. To stop me finding this.
He’d been trying to keep me safe. And I’d torn straight through the protection he’d built.
Fuck.
“I need the unredacted logs. The mole used the substrate to reach Selin. The evidence of how is in the data you’re withholding. I can find them. You know I can.”
“The redactions protect every operative I have. If I give you full access and you’re compromised—“
“I’m already compromised.”
His eyes hold mine. He’s not surprised. “If I’m wrong about you, every person who trusted me is exposed.”
Every person.
Not the network. Not the operation. The people.
“And if you’re right about me, I find who killed her.” My voice tightens around the last part. “Which is what you hired me to do.”
Not because I’m beautiful. Not because he enjoys having me here. Because I’m… useful.
Selin is dead. She’s been dead for weeks, and he could have replaced her at any point. Instead he’s been hunting her killer.
I know exactly what Zavin Sethrak is. A man who measures people by their usefulness. One who doesn’t let sentiment interfere with business.
But he didn’t forget her. He’s trying to find her killer. Not erase her.
His eyes lift to mine. Whatever he sees on my face makes his expression harden. “Don’t read more into this than I can give you. I need that mole found. With that mind of yours, you’re the only human female who stands a chance of finding them.”
He storms to the door. “I’ll get you everything you need. Full access. No more redactions.” A pause, jaw tight. “But don’t mistake this for something it isn’t.”
The door closes behind him. Controlled, deliberate, which is somehow worse.