Chapter 9 Wyatt #2
"An absolute little," Wyatt said simply, the truth falling into the room with absolute clarity.
"When I caught her, she was sliding into a headspace so deep she couldn't even process how cold she was.
She apologized until she was sobbing because she thought she was being a 'bad girl.
' The moment I used a corrective tone with her, she straightened right up.
She doesn't have a Daddy, she doesn't have a routine, and she’s spending her midnights dealing with the scum down at the harbor. "
Zane let out a low, incredulous whistle, shaking his head.
"Unbelievable. We were preparing for a corporate espionage war with an international syndicate, and instead we’ve been compromised by a stray girl who wanted to watch fairy tales.
Do we turn her over to legal or just hit her with a non-disclosure fine? "
"We aren't turning her over to anyone," Wyatt said, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that signaled an absolute boundary.
He turned his attention directly to Silas, who was now watching him with a cool, perceptive intensity.
"She is coming here at nine o'clock this morning. I’ve offered her a position.
Three times her current wage at the diner, a secure desk in my office, and a structured training routine under my direct supervision. "
Zane paused, his posture tightening as he leaned back against the bar.
"Wyatt, look at the potential exposure here. She’s an active infiltrator who successfully tore a hole in our primary asset.
We don't know her background, we don't even know how old she is, and you want to bring her straight into the executive suite? If our city partners or any of the transit contract auditors find out we’ve put an unvetted tech on the internal payroll, it’s a massive liability. "
"She isn't a liability, Zane. She’s an asset we can't afford to leave running around the city," Wyatt countered, his voice entirely unyielding.
"If I don't pull her into our loop, someone else will eventually notice her scripts.
A talent like that, left unprotected, is a countdown to a real disaster.
She needs structure. She needs protection. "
Hudson let out a soft, understanding breath, leaning back in his armchair as the pieces clicked together.
"That explains the spatial coding style you were analyzing last week.
A headspace like that builds defensive logic like an emotional wall.
She wasn't trying to steal our data, Wyatt.
She was trying to build a safe room inside the machine. "
Silas took a slow sip of his coffee, his dark eyes dropping to Wyatt’s hands as he noted the tight, territorial tension in his friend's posture.
"You're exceptionally protective of this girl, Wyatt.
You haven't even brought her through the security gates, and you're already drawing a hard line around her. "
Silas remained silent for a long moment after that, his large hand idly tracing the rim of his coffee cup.
He had known Wyatt since they were teenagers; he understood that beneath the man's cold, mathematical precision lay a massive, predatory demand to protect whatever fell within his territory.
If Wyatt had decided this girl belonged under his authority, there was no logic stream in the world that would convince him to let her go.
"If she is as clever as you say," Silas finally said, his deep voice carrying the absolute finality that ended all discussion, "then having her logic bound to our internal system is infinitely better than leaving her to run about the city alone.
We have the space. We have the security.
If she requires a firm hand to keep her from spinning out, you will provide it.
" He cut a sharp glance toward Zane. "Handle the non-disclosure routing and the employment contract internally.
Scrub her background through our private channels, but keep her off the public corporate ledger. She reports exclusively to Wyatt."
Zane let out a resigned breath, though a genuine grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Fine. But if she pushes the boundaries or compromises our public standing, she answers to me."
"She won't," Wyatt said flatly.
At exactly eight-fifty-five, a sharp, distinct chime cut through the quiet of the executive suite. Wyatt pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the screen.
Bitsy: I’m out front. Near the big glass doors with the gold numbers. I have my bag.
"She's downstairs," Wyatt said, his chest tightening with a sudden, sharp spike of anticipation. He walked toward the primary security console near the elevator bank and tapped the live feed for the street-level entrance. The monitor pulsed to life instantly.
The three other men moved up behind him, their eyes tracking the screen.
Bitsy looked different in the clear morning light.
The pastel pink hoodie was gone, replaced by a thick, oversized purple knit sweater that looked soft but worn, the sleeves pulled down completely over her hands.
She was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, and her soft brown hair was down, falling in a wild, unruly cloud of flyaway strands over her shoulders.
In her right hand, she was clutching a heavy, battered canvas duffle bag, her small shoulders rounded as she looked up nervously at the towering glass facade of Enigma.
"Jesus," Hudson murmured softly, adjusting his frames as he studied the monitor. "She looks like a stiff breeze would snap her in half. She's tiny."
Wyatt kept his eyes locked on the screen, watching the way her sneakers shifted nervously against the clean concrete of the entryway, her chin tucked into the high collar of her purple sweater.
Silas stood up from the sofa, smoothing his dark jacket with a slow, deliberate precision. He looked at the screen, then at the hard, territorial focus locking into Wyatt's jawline.
"We're going to head out," Silas said smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument as he gestured toward the rear executive elevators that led down to the private garage. "Zane, grab your files. Hudson, let's look over those southern transit blueprints back at my place."
Zane blinked, looking between the screen and Silas. "Wait, we aren't staying to meet the tech prodigy?"
"No," Silas said flatly, his voice dropping into that heavy, commanding register that dictated the circle’s domestic boundaries.
"She is already skating at the edge of her capacity, and she doesn't know any of us.
If she walks into this suite and finds four grown men tracking her perimeter, her little headspace will completely shut down before Wyatt can even establish a baseline.
He needs the space to make her comfortable and not overwhelm her. He needs to do this alone."
Hudson nodded instantly, grabbing his coat from the rack. "He's right. Let him get her settled first."
Wyatt didn't look back as the three men walked toward the private elevator bank, the heavy iron doors sliding open with a quiet hiss.
He kept his eyes fixed entirely on the monitor, watching as she took a small, hesitant step closer to the glass, her fingers tightening around the strap of her duffle bag.
Turning on his heel, Wyatt grabbed his keys from the desk and walked straight toward the elevators. It was time to go down and get his girl.