Chapter 65
The study smelled faintly of cedar and old paper when Kaitlyn eased the door closed behind her.
Callum stood at the far end of the room by the shelves, sleeves rolled to the elbow, tie loosened but still knotted. A low lamp burned beside him, throwing the planes of his face into hard light and shadow.
He didn’t speak right away, only watched her come closer. His gaze flicked to her hands—empty except for the strap of the leather bag—then to her eyes.
“You are late,” he said quietly.
“I took the long way,” she answered, voice just as soft. “I wanted to be sure no one followed.”
His brow lifted a fraction, approval hidden under the dry tone. “Show me.”
Kaitlyn unzipped the bag and withdrew the ledger. The weight of it felt heavier now that she was about to share it. She laid it on the table between them, careful not to reveal the tin yet. Callum’s fingers brushed the edge of the cover but didn’t open it. He studied her first.
“You hesitated before sending that message,” he said. “I can feel it. What aren’t you telling me?”
She inhaled, steadying her nerves. “Enough to know Reagen’s reach is deeper than we thought. I need you to see this… but not all of it. Not yet.”
His eyes hardened, but he didn’t push. “Then show me what you can.”
She flipped to a mid-section of the ledger; pages of transfers, names, dates… the ones that tied Reagen directly to the funds. She pointed to the signatures. “These aren’t side deals or petty theft. This is infrastructure. She built a whole network to bleed both families dry.”
Callum’s expression shifted from anger to calculation. He traced one of the signatures with his thumb. “And you are sure?”
“My father’s handwriting is here,” she said, tapping a margin note. “He tracked it, documented it, then buried it under another vault because he knew she would come for the first.”
Callum’s jaw tightened further as he processed the implications. “We need to move fast, lock her out, cut her supply lines…”
“No,” Kaitlyn interrupted. “If you move now, she will see it. She has watchers. I counted at least two outside the bank today. If she senses movement, she will strike first.”
Callum closed the ledger slowly, palms flat against its cover. “You are saying we do nothing.”
“I am saying we wait,” she replied. “And choose the ground.”
For a moment, anger flickered in his eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by a colder kind of respect. He leaned back against the desk edge. “That is not the girl I pulled out of her burning world,” he said quietly. “That is strategy talking.”
“Maybe I learned from the best,” she said.
The compliment, unspoken and risky, softened him for an instant. But then his phone buzzed on the shelf. He glanced at the screen—Moore. He ignored it, tucking the device face-down.
“We can’t keep this quiet for long,” Callum said. “Every hour we delay is another chance for a leak.”
Kaitlyn hesitated. She still hadn’t shown him the tin—the smaller, sharper piece of proof. Her father’s final words warned against trusting completely. Moore’s silent presence outside her window earlier haunted her. Is he still an ally or watcher? She decided to keep the tin hidden for now.
“Then we control the story,” she said. “We let her think she is still ahead.”
A faint smirk curved his mouth. “That’s dangerous.”
“So is everything we have done since the night my parents died.”
The room went still. In that silence, they both heard a door closing somewhere, footsteps too soft to be casual. Callum’s hand went to the pistol holstered beneath his jacket.
“Stay here,” he murmured.
Kaitlyn grabbed his wrist. “If it is a leak inside Blackthorn, splitting up is worse.”
They moved together, lights low, out into the hall. The sound led them toward the east wing. Halfway down the corridor, they found Moore standing by the security panel, adjusting a fuse. His face was impassive.
“You don’t do maintenance at this hour,” Callum said.
Moore didn’t flinch. “Circuit was tripped. Cameras went dark for forty seconds.”
“Forty seconds?” Kaitlyn repeated. Her heart thumped. Long enough for someone to plant something—or take something.
Moore’s gaze flicked between them. “I am checking all the feeds.”
Callum didn’t lower the gun until Moore stepped back and let him inspect the panel himself. Everything looked clean, but it felt as if something had slipped through.
When they returned to the study, the ledger was exactly where Kaitlyn had left it. But the window was ajar by half an inch.
She slammed it shut with a sharp snap. “Someone wanted to see what we have.”
Callum turned to her, voice low but decisive. “No more half-measures. We are on borrowed time.”
Kaitlyn met his eyes. “Then we need to feed her the wrong move first.”
His brows arched. “A false transfer?”
“A bait shipment,” Kaitlyn said, the plan taking shape even as she spoke. “Something she can’t resist intercepting. While she lunges for it, we find the real leak.”
Callum studied her for a long moment, weighing the gamble, then gave a single nod. “Tomorrow night.”
The decision settled between them—a silent pact. He stepped closer, close enough that she felt the heat of him. She wanted to close the distance, to lean on him, but strategy came first.
“I will handle Moore,” Callum said. “You keep that ledger close.”
Kaitlyn tightened her grip on the bag strap. “And the tin stays with me.”
He looked at her sharply, but didn’t ask what tin she meant. Maybe he understood she wasn’t ready to show her full hand, and he respected it.
As dawn’s first light brushed the curtains, they parted ways without another word—two generals in a war only they fully grasped, already choosing their next ground.