Chapter 38 Asset Protection
Rowan
The door is closed.
That alone should tell me this isn’t a normal lunch.
Theo sits across from me, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, holding his sandwich like he doesn’t trust it. The PI’s voice crackles through the speakerphone between us, the line secure, encrypted, paranoid in a way I usually respect.
I take a bite.
Chew.
Stop.
I stare down at the sandwich in my hand like it personally offended me.
Theo notices immediately. Of course he does. “What’s wrong?”
“She got it right,” I say.
Theo blinks. “The—what?”
“My order.” I lift the sandwich slightly. “The tomatoes. The pickles. Extra sharp cheddar, not American. No mayo. The bread toasted but not burned. Latte at exactly the right temperature.”
Theo snorts. “You’re mad… because your lunch is perfect?”
“I didn’t write it down,” I say flatly. “I listed it once."
The PI chuckles through the speaker. Low. Knowing. “People like her are hard to come by.”
I look at the phone. “Explain.”
There’s a pause. Paper rustles on the other end, like he’s choosing his words carefully.
“Violet Pierce,” the PI says, “is extremely diligent with her life.”
Theo leans back, interested now.
“She budgets everything. Tracks her finances to the dollar. Plans three steps ahead while everyone around her is moving five steps backward. She anticipates problems before they exist.”
I take another bite without tasting it.
“She doesn’t waste energy,” he continues. “Not emotionally. Not financially. Not mentally. If something matters to her stability—she protects it.”
Theo glances at me, smirking. “You hearing this, boss?”
The PI doesn’t miss a beat. “You are important to her stability.”
That lands heavier than it should.
“Which means,” he adds, “you could be the pickiest, most impossible person alive—and she’d still get you exactly what you want without complaint. Because your satisfaction keeps her world from tipping.”
Theo laughs under his breath. “Jesus. That’s you to a T.”
I mutter, “Everything is going wrong.”
Theo tilts his head. “Then ask him for the update before you spiral.”
I don’t look away from the sandwich. “Update.”
The PI exhales. “I’ve found things.”
My jaw tightens. “That’s not an update.”
“They don’t make sense yet.”
I slam the sandwich down onto the plate. “When you open your mouth next time, it better be with some fucking information. I’m paying you, not funding a mystery podcast.”
Silence.
Then—careful, deliberate—he speaks.
“I dug into Evan Pierce.”
Theo stills.
“Asked around the docks,” the PI continues. “Quietly. Not officially.”
My stomach twists.
“It looks like Evan was involved with the Mexican cartel.”
Theo curses softly. “Fuck.”
“They’re trying to push drugs and guns through dock territory,” the PI says. “Evan wasn’t a dealer. He was a runner. Delivered messages. Cash payments. No paper trail.”
I grip the edge of the desk.
“That’s why he paid in cash,” Theo murmurs. “The rehab. Weekly.”
“Exactly,” the PI says. “But that’s not the worst part.”
I already know it will be.
“It looks like Evan may have been a CI.”
I choke.
Actually choke.
Theo lunges forward, slapping my back once. “Jesus, Rowan—”
“A CI?” I snap. “You’re telling me he was a confidential informant?”
“Vice brought him in more than once,” the PI confirms. “Cleared petty theft off his record. Let things slide. Used him to get closer to higher-ups.”
Theo rubs his face. “So he was playing both sides.”
“Or trying to survive,” the PI says.
Theo looks at me. “Is that what Calder is after?”
“No,” I say immediately. “Violet has nothing to do with that.”
There’s a beat.
Then the PI cuts in. “She does.”
My blood goes cold.
“Not knowingly,” he adds. “But she’s involved whether she likes it or not. People saw them together. Connected them. Family is leverage.”
I stare at the glass wall of my office.
“The cartel may come to her,” he continues. “For answers. Or because they think she has them.”
Theo swears viciously. “This isn’t a wrong-place-wrong-time murder.”
“No,” the PI agrees. “This is bigger.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “Anything else.”
“I’m still digging into Calder,” he says. “And others.”
Theo frowns. “Others?”
“Internal,” the PI replies. “And—just so you know—I’m being followed.”
The room goes quiet.
“For how long?” I ask.
“Couple days.”
“If you disappear—”
“It’s because I’m laying low,” he cuts in. “Or dead.”
Theo sits up straight. “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking,” the PI says calmly. “Don’t come looking if something happens. People don’t like snoopers.”
“And you?” I ask.
“I’ve dealt with worse,” he replies. “But you should assume I’m a target now.”
I glance through the glass.
Violet sits at her desk, headset on, fingers flying, voice calm, composed—holding the entire floor together without breaking.
I feel something dark and dangerous settle in my chest.
“Keep digging,” I say quietly.
“I am.”
The line clicks dead.
Theo looks at me. “This just got real.”
I don’t answer.
Because I’m already thinking about contingencies.
Security.
Extraction.
And what I’ll do if anyone decides Violet Pierce is expendable.
Because they’d be wrong.
Theo doesn’t speak right away.
He watches me take another bite of the sandwich like he’s waiting for it to argue back.
“So,” he says finally, leaning forward, forearms on his knees. “What are you going to do now?”
I chew slowly. Deliberately. Let the answer settle in my mouth before I say it.
“I’m done sitting on the sidelines.”
Theo’s eyes narrow slightly. “Meaning?”
I swallow. Set the sandwich down with care. “I’m taking charge.”
That gets his attention.
“Camille and Violet,” I continue, voice level, controlled, “will no longer be driving themselves to work.”
Theo blinks. “They what?”
“They will have a personal driver,” I say. “Vetted. Armed. Trained.”
His eyebrows lift.
“They will have bodyguards,” I add. “Not obvious. Not theatrical. But present. At all times.”
Theo exhales sharply. “Rowan—”
“The house will get a full security system,” I continue, cutting him off. “Cameras. Motion sensors. Alarms. The perimeter will be checked before they arrive home every night. Someone will be watching the property while they sleep.”
The words come easily now. Too easily.
Theo stares at me like I just announced I’m building a bunker.
“You’ve already thought this through,” he says slowly.
“Yes.”
“How long?” he asks.
I don’t answer that.
Instead, I pick up the sandwich again and take another bite. Perfect. Still warm. Still exactly what I wanted.
Theo shakes his head. “How exactly are we planning to tell them all this without sounding completely unhinged?”
I wipe my fingers on a napkin. “We don’t tell them everything.”
“That’s reassuring,” he mutters.
“The councilwoman made a threat,” I say. “In the building. In front of witnesses.”
Theo nods reluctantly. “She did.”
“I’m upping security because of that,” I continue. “Political exposure. Reputation management. Safety protocol.”
“That’s not the whole truth,” Theo points out.
“No,” I agree calmly. “But it’s believable.”
Theo studies me for a long moment.
Then he leans back in his chair and sighs. “You’ve crossed a line.”
“Which one?” I ask.
“The one where you stop pretending this is just business.”
I don’t look at him.
He tilts his head, watching me like he’s piecing something together that’s been obvious for weeks. “So tell me—have you accepted the fact that you need Violet?”
Silence.
“And if that’s too generous,” he adds, “have you at least accepted that you’re obsessed with her?”
I stare straight ahead.
Take another bite.
Chew.
I don’t answer.
Because answering would mean admitting something I don’t yet have a plan for.