Chapter 35 Control Issues
Rowan
I shouldn’t be here.
That thought keeps looping as I sit in the driver’s seat of my own vehicle, engine idling, lights dark, hands locked around the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded.
Across the street, the Thai place glows warm and yellow. Too warm. Too human. Violet sits by the window, chopsticks in hand, hair falling loose around her shoulders as she leans in toward Camille. She laughs—quiet, real—and for a split second she looks like someone who isn’t carrying the weight of a dead brother, a failing system, and a city that wants to eat her alive.
Theo shifts beside me. “Do you feel better now?”
The question irritates me instantly.
“No,” I say.
Flat. Final.
Theo exhales through his nose. “Didn’t think so.”
I don’t look at him. My eyes stay on Violet. On the way she pauses mid-bite to listen. On the way she nods like she’s cataloging everything Camille says, the same way she does at work.
“She never shuts off,” I mutter.
Theo glances at her. “No. She doesn’t.”
“This place is a shithole,” I add.
Theo snorts. “You say that like it’s offended you personally.”
“It’s beneath where she lived,” I snap.
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
Theo goes still.
Slowly, he turns his head and looks at me—not amused this time. Curious. Sharp.
“That,” he says, “was very specific.”
I clench my jaw. “I don’t feel better,” I repeat. “I don’t know why I’m doing any of this. I don’t know why I care. And it’s pissing me off.”
Theo leans back in his seat, arms crossing. “You’re invested.”
“I don’t invest in people,” I say immediately.
“You hired a PI.”
“That’s risk control.”
“You doubled her pay.”
“Operational necessity.”
“You threatened her landlord.”
“He was violating housing code.”
Theo raises an eyebrow. “You checked housing code?”
I don’t answer.
“And now,” Theo continues, gesturing subtly toward the restaurant, “you’re sitting in your car watching her eat pad thai.”
Silence.
Violet reaches for her drink. Takes a sip. Her shoulders drop just a fraction.
“She makes everything work,” I say finally. “That’s it. She keeps the system functional. Without her, nothing moves. The office collapses. I spent half a day without her and nearly lost my mind.”
Theo nods slowly. “That’s not nothing.”
“It’s logistics.”
“It’s dependence,” he counters.
I glare at him. “Watch your fucking mouth.”
He doesn’t back down. “You’ve built your entire operation around someone you didn’t even realize you were relying on.”
I scoff. “She’s just a woman.”
Theo’s lips twitch. “You don’t talk about people like that when you don’t care.”
I go still.
“Think about it,” he presses. “You haven’t slept with her. Haven’t taken her out. Haven’t touched her. Haven’t even flirted.”
My jaw tightens.
“And yet,” Theo continues, “you’re doing more for her than you ever did for Avery. Or anyone.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Avery was… replaceable.”
Theo nods. “And Violet isn’t.”
I stare straight ahead. “You’re reading too much into it.”
“Am I?” he asks. “You don’t do things without a reason. So what’s yours?”
I open my mouth to tell him to shut up.
Then something shifts.
Across the street.
A movement that doesn’t belong.
A man leaning against a sedan like he’s just killing time. Phone lifted casually. The faint, unmistakable click of a camera shutter.
My spine goes rigid.
“There,” I say quietly.
Theo follows my gaze. Squints.
Then swears. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Calder.
Standing there like he owns the sidewalk. Like he’s not being subtle because he doesn’t have to be.
And his phone is aimed directly at Violet.
My vision narrows.
I feel something cold settle behind my ribs. Controlled. Focused. Dangerous.
Theo rubs his face. “Can we not have one peaceful fucking night?”
I reach for the door handle.
Theo grabs my arm. “No.”
“I’ll end him,” I say calmly.
“I know,” Theo replies. “That’s why you’re staying put.”
Calder lowers the phone, checks the screen, then raises it again—adjusting his angle.
I watch Violet laugh again, unaware. Exposed.
“That man is circling her,” I growl. “This isn’t investigation. This is fixation.”
Theo’s jaw tightens. “Yeah. It is.”
He pulls his phone out.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
Theo lifts it, steady, recording now. “Getting proof.”
The screen captures Calder clearly—his stance, the phone, the direction of the lens.
“He’s been watching her for days,” Theo mutters. “Questioning her. Cornering her. Now this?”
He stops recording and taps his screen. “Sending it to the PI.”
Good.
“This is getting fucking creepy,” Theo adds. “Even for a cop.”
I lean back, forcing my grip on the wheel to loosen.
Not yet.
But soon.
Because no one gets to stalk what keeps my world standing.
And Calder just crossed a line he doesn’t even see yet.
Theo lowers his phone after sending the video, then looks at me sideways. “You know this isn’t about work anymore, right?”
I don’t take my eyes off the restaurant. “Everything is about work.”
Theo snorts. “Sure. That’s why you’re glaring at a Thai place like it personally insulted you.”
“She shouldn’t be visible,” I snap. “Not like that. Not when—”
I cut myself off.
Theo’s grin is immediate. “When what?”
I glare at him. “Don’t.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely going to,” he says cheerfully. “Because this is the most entertainment I’ve had in years. You’re spiraling.”
“I am not spiraling.”
“You’re stalking,” Theo corrects. “With benefits. Expensive ones.”
“I hired protection,” I growl. “That’s different.”
“For a woman you claim is ‘just an employee.’”
“She is.”
Theo leans back, folding his arms. “Funny. You never sat outside Avery’s nail salon making sure no one breathed near her.”
“Avery wasn’t competent enough to be worth protecting.”
“And Violet is?”
I hesitate.
Theo laughs softly. “There it is.”
I turn on him. “She keeps my life from imploding. That doesn’t mean I want her.”
Theo raises a brow. “You don’t want peace?”
“This isn’t peace,” I snap. “This is chaos with better handwriting.”
Theo chuckles. “You sound like Dad.”
I scowl. “Low blow.”
“Accurate one,” he counters. “You want control. Violet gives you that—not because she submits, but because she matches you.”
I shake my head. “You’re romanticizing it.”
“No,” Theo says. “I’m diagnosing it.”
I gesture toward the window. “She’s eating noodles, Theo. She cries in bathrooms. She’s drowning.”
“And still shows up,” he replies quietly. “Every day. Handles your mess. Handles everyone’s mess. While you’re out here having an existential crisis in a leather seat.”
I grind my teeth. “She’s not what I need.”
Theo turns fully toward me now. “She’s exactly what you need. That’s why it scares the shit out of you.”