Chapter 13 AN UNLIKELY ALLIANCE
POV (Selena)
“Wait.”
Adrian’s hand closed around my wrist just as the guard guided me toward the exit.
The touch was firm, deliberate, nothing like the polite distance he usually kept. I turned sharply, my heart jumping into my throat. For a second, I thought this was another order, another accusation.
Instead, Adrian was looking at me, eyes sharp with urgency.
“You are not leaving,” he said.
“I do not think that is up to you,” I replied. My voice sounded steadier than I felt. “They confiscated my laptop. They escorted me out.”
“I know,” he said. “And I am stopping it.”
Before I could argue, he pulled me away from the hallway and down a narrow corridor I had never been through before. My pulse raced as we passed closed doors and silent rooms. This was reckless. For him. For me.
He opened a heavy door and ushered me inside, locking it behind us.
The room was quiet in a way the rest of the estate was not. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books and files. A wide desk sat in the center, monitors dark, papers neatly stacked. His private study.
“Show me what you found,” he said.
The demand was blunt, stripped of rank or courtesy.
“My laptop is gone,” I reminded him.
“I have copies,” he said. “Start talking.”
I swallowed hard and stepped toward the desk. My hands were shaking, but once I started explaining, something steadied inside me. This was familiar ground. Numbers did not lie. Patterns did not panic.
“I noticed the first inconsistency three weeks ago,” I said. “The totals were correct, but the flow was wrong. Money moved too cleanly between accounts that should not have been connected.”
He pulled up the files, eyes scanning fast.
“These projections were edited after my review,” I continued. “But the timestamps do not match internal access logs. Someone uploaded them externally.”
He leaned closer, studying the screen. Our shoulders brushed, and the contact sent a sharp awareness through me. I forced myself to focus.
“You are sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I checked more than once. I did not want to accuse anyone without certainty.”
“Which is why they targeted you,” he said quietly.
The words hit harder than I expected.
We worked without pause after that. File after file. Comparison after comparison. He asked questions, sharp and precise, and I answered just as carefully. Hours slipped by unnoticed.
At some point, he placed a mug of coffee beside me.
“You need this,” he said.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“You should not be thanking me,” he replied. “You should never have been put in this position.”
I glanced at him. The polished public mask was gone. This was a man under pressure, angry and focused, stripped down to purpose.
“You believed me,” I said.
“I wanted to,” he admitted. “That is not the same thing.”
“But you stayed.”
“Yes,” he said. “Because if you are right, then everything they think they know is wrong.”
We kept working.
The air between us changed as the night deepened. Proximity became unavoidable. Our hands brushed when reaching for the same document. His presence was steady, grounding, and dangerously distracting.
I noticed things I should not have. The way his brow furrowed when concentrating. The way his jaw tightened when he saw proof of manipulation.
“Here,” I said suddenly. “Look at this.”
He leaned in, closer than before, his arm brushing mine. I could feel the heat of him, the tension humming between us.
“This document claims to be older,” I explained. “But the signature block is copied. The encryption key does not match the system standard from that year.”
He straightened slowly.
“That means it was forged,” he said.
“Yes,” I replied. “Within the last three months.”
The room felt heavier after that.
He began pacing, one hand raking through his hair, frustration rolling off him in waves.
“They blamed you because you were easy,” he said. “Because you do not belong to this family.”
“No,” I said quietly. “They blamed me because I noticed.”
He stopped and looked at me, really looked at me.
“You are not wrong,” he said. “And you are not alone in this anymore.”
The first light of dawn crept through the window, pale and unforgiving. My eyes burned. My head ached. But I felt clearer than I had in days.
“This was not a mistake,” I said. “It was planned.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “And whoever did this had access.”
His face hardened, resolve replacing exhaustion.
“Someone inside the organization did this,” he said.
The words settled between us like a verdict.
Because if he was right, then the danger was not outside these walls.
It was already inside.