Chapter 242 Let's Get to Work
ADRIANA
Hazel came back on the second day and I was already in the office when she arrived, the board on the wall covered in index cards and connecting lines and question marks that had been multiplying for forty-eight hours.
She dropped her bag, looked at the board, looked at me, and sat down.
I went through everything in the order it had happened — Kyle, Miller, the bar, the rubbing alcohol, the corporate clothing, the tattoo on the inside of the wrist, Miller’s bruises, the fact that all three of them were brothers — and I heard myself connecting things as I narrated them and then asking the questions those connections raised and then partially answering them myself and moving on to the next thing without quite stopping.
Hazel sat with her hands folded and her expression carefully composed throughout the entire thing.
When I finally stopped, she was quiet for a measured moment.
“Are you finished?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. Because that was the longest uninterrupted monologue I have ever sat through and I have known you for years.” She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “They’re brothers. All three of them?”
“Yes.”
“I would genuinely never have guessed that.” She was quiet for a moment, thinking. “But here is the immediate problem — the tattoo is useful but we can’t act on it yet. We cannot pull every man in this territory into a line and check their wrists without him hearing about it within the hour. He’d be gone before we reached the tenth person.”
Down the corridor outside, the twins detonated into noise — running feet and laughter and what sounded like something being knocked over and then more laughter.
I lost my entire train of thought.
“I was going to ask,” I said, once the noise had crested and begun to recede, “whether you found anything while you were out.”
Hazel smiled in the specific way that meant she’d done something imaginative to get what she needed. “I told the guards at the pack that I was organizing a quiet rebellion. That I was a palace maid, that Damon had assaulted me months ago, that I’d left and come back and he didn’t know.”
I stared at her.
“It worked immediately,” she said. “They were very forthcoming.” She straightened. “Damien withdrew from the Alpha position himself. He went to Elijah voluntarily and stepped back.”
I set my pen down. “That makes no sense. Elijah was genuinely happy about that appointment. Damien was happy. I was in the room when Elijah told him.”
“I know. But that’s what happened, according to multiple sources.” She paused. “And there’s more. The letter that Damon received — the one warning him that Damien was supposedly planning something — one of the guards had actually delivered it. He remembered it clearly.”
I had already started to ask.
“Yes,” she said, before I finished. “Red crown seal.”
“He’s not in one pack,” I said. “He’s moving between territories. He has access, resources, and he’s been planning this for longer than we initially thought.”
“Which means he’s patient,” Hazel said. “And connected.”
From the corridor, a loud thud filled the room, followed by giggling.
“ELIJAH JUNIOR. LIAM.” I raised my voice just enough to carry through the closed door. “If your sister wakes up because of you, you are both sitting next to her crib on the floor until she goes back down. I am not joking. Not even slightly.”
The laughter halted, then they spoke in unison. “Sorry, Mum.”
Followed immediately by the sound of two children attempting quiet and not fully succeeding.
Lana had been dreadful for most of the afternoon — refusing to feed, refusing to sleep, cycling through a miserable, inconsolable crying that had me pacing the room with her for the better part of an hour while Lorain sat on the floor beside me and patted my foot with the solemn helpfulness of a five-year-old who wanted to contribute.
The doctor had been unavailable. I’d eventually got her down through sheer persistence, and she’d been asleep for two hours that I was not willing to sacrifice to the twins’ apparently endless energy.
The corridor went quiet. Which lasted only a second before I heard them again.
“You’re it—” and the running started again.
I stood up, opened the door, and looked at two small faces that froze mid-stride.
“One more time,” I said, with complete calm, “and I’m taking the controllers for a week. Both of them. Try me.”
They dispersed in opposite directions with a speed I didn't even know they were capable of.
I closed the door and returned to my chair.
Hazel was watching me. “You were saying. About the bar.”
“I need to know which bar Kyle and his brothers met the man in. Once I have that, I can pull CCTV from that night. His face was covered, but build, posture, clothing, movement,” I sighed, running my hand down my hair, deciding I needed a cut. “Something might be identifiable. It’s not guaranteed but it’s something.”
Hazel nodded, looking attentive.
I looked at the board. “But the trial is in three days and the immediate priority is Damien. Full exoneration, nothing ambiguous left behind, every charge dismissed with the court on record.” I turned back to Hazel. “After that, I need somewhere for those boys to go. Somewhere outside his reach. Because the moment he realizes they’ve spoken in court, they become a liability he’ll want to eliminate.”
“And if the Elders resist?”
I was expecting that from them. Though I didn't voice it to Hazel. I think we both knew.
“Then I use veto authority and end the debate.” I said it without heat, as a simple statement of fact. “I am not watching this drag on any longer. Damien has already lost more than he should have. This closes at the next trial.”
Hazel nodded slowly, looking at the board. “Then we walk in there with everything we have and we don’t leave room for doubt.”
“Exactly.” I picked my pen back up. “Let’s get to work.”