Chapter 123
Lena's POV
Morning light filtered through the curtains, softer than I remembered. Or maybe I just wasn't used to noticing anymore.
I sat across from Rowan at the breakfast table, picking at the scrambled eggs Martha had prepared. They were perfectly seasoned, fluffy, the kind of thing I used to eat without thinking. Now every bite required conscious effort.
Rowan watched me over the rim of his coffee cup. Not hovering—just... present.
"You slept," he said quietly.
"A few hours." I set down my fork. "Better than nothing."
He nodded. Didn't push.
The silence between us felt different than before. Not comfortable, exactly, but not hostile either. Like we were both learning a new language and hadn't quite figured out the grammar yet.
I forced myself to finish half the eggs. Martha had made toast too, cut into neat triangles. I managed one.
"I need to talk to my team," I said.
Rowan's expression shifted—concern, carefully controlled. "Are you sure? It's only been—"
"They need to know." I met his eyes. "And I need to stay connected to the work. Not doing it, just... knowing it's still there."
He studied me for a long moment. Then nodded. "What do you need?"
"Just the laptop. And privacy for the call."
"I'll be in the living room."
---
Twenty minutes later, I sat in the study with my laptop open. Three faces filled the screen: Rachel, Diana, Sophia.
Rachel spoke first, her usual efficiency tempered with unusual gentleness. "Lena. How are you?"
I'd rehearsed this. Keep it simple. Professional.
"I'm recovering from... an incident." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Nothing that affects the firm's operations, but I need some time for my mental health. I'm asking you to handle all active cases for the next few weeks."
Silence on the other end. I saw Rachel's eyes widen slightly.
"I'll stay accessible by email," I continued. "But I won't be taking calls or attending meetings. Diana, you'll have signing authority for any urgent documents. Rachel, coordinate with clients. Sophia, keep the administrative side running."
"Of course." Rachel recovered first. "Whatever you need. We've got this."
Sophia's voice was soft. "Please don't worry about anything here. Just take care of yourself."
Diana had been quiet. Now she leaned forward slightly. "Lena. We're here. Not just for the work."
My throat tightened. I managed a nod.
"I know you won't ask," Diana continued, "so I'm telling you: if you need anything—anything at all—you tell us. Understood?"
"Understood." The word came out rough.
Rachel jumped in, bless her. "I'll send you a daily summary. Nothing that requires action, just so you know what's happening."
"Thank you." I paused. "All of you. I mean it."
"We're a team," Sophia said simply.
I ended the call before the burning in my eyes could turn into actual tears.
---
Rowan appeared in the doorway thirty seconds later. Of course he'd been listening.
"You did well," he said.
I closed the laptop. "I feel like I'm abandoning them."
"You're protecting them. And yourself." He crossed to the window, giving me space. "That's not abandonment. That's leadership."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to insist I should be stronger, should handle this alone, should be able to compartmentalize like I always had.
Instead, I just sat there, staring at my hands.
"Do you regret telling them?" Rowan asked.
"No." I looked up. "They're my partners. They deserve honesty."
He nodded slowly. "Then you made the right call."
I stood, restless energy pushing me to move. "I want to look at some case files. Not to work on them, just... I need my brain to do something other than replay—" I stopped. Started again. "I need a distraction."
"Alright." He watched me carefully. "But if you get tired—"
"I'll stop. I promise."
---
That evening, we worked side by side in the study. Rowan on his laptop, handling whatever Reynolds Industries business couldn't wait. Me with a legal pad, sketching out what I knew.
Marcus. Maria. The threatening messages. The apartment break-in. The U-drive with those photographs.
I forced myself to think like a lawyer, not a victim. Evidence. Patterns. Connections.
"You're doing that thing," Rowan said.
I glanced up. "What thing?"
"Your left hand." He nodded toward where my fingers were tapping against the desk in a steady rhythm. "You do it when you're thinking through a problem."
I hadn't realized. I stilled my hand.
"Don't stop on my account." His voice was soft. "I like seeing you work."
Something warm flickered in my chest. Dangerous.
I went back to my notes.
Outside, the city hummed. Inside, the silence felt almost... companionable.
Rowan's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then set it aside without answering.
"You can take that," I said.
"It's not urgent."
I didn't push. We'd had enough invasions of privacy for one lifetime.
An hour later, my eyes started to blur. I set down the pen.
Rowan noticed immediately. "Enough for today."
"Yeah." I rubbed my temples. "Yeah, I think so."
He closed his laptop. "Martha made soup. You should eat something."
"In a minute."
I stayed in the chair, looking at my notes. The scattered pieces of a puzzle I couldn't quite see yet.
But I would.
Marcus thought he could keep me scared and powerless. He was wrong.
Whatever came next, I'd face it with my eyes open.
Rowan stood. Crossed to the door. Paused.
"For what it's worth," he said quietly, "you're not alone in this. Not anymore."
I looked at him—really looked. Saw the shadows under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. He'd been carrying this too.
"I know," I said.
He left.
I sat in the study a while longer, watching the sun set through the window.
Tomorrow, Jack would call with more answers. Tomorrow, we'd take the next step.
Tonight, I'd let myself rest.
Just a little.