Chapter 65 Defense
Rowan
Theo stares at me like he’s seeing something new. Or something he wishes he wasn’t.
“Jesus,” he mutters.
I barely register it.
All of my attention is on Violet.
She’s standing there with her shoulders squared, chin lifted, trying to look steady while everything inside her is coming apart. Camille steps closer to her, hand brushing her arm, grounding her.
“Vi, are you okay?”
Violet doesn’t hesitate. “No,” she says. Honest. Raw. “But I will be.”
That answer does something to me. It shouldn’t. It’s not strategic. It’s not useful. It just… lands. Hard.
I straighten, already pulling my phone from my pocket. There’s no hesitation now. No weighing of outcomes. She didn’t ask me to save her. She asked me to fix something that should never have been broken.
And in doing that, she handed me permission.
“Devin,” I say.
“Yes,” he answers immediately.
“Call both funeral homes,” I tell him. “They’re consolidating services. Today.”
Devin nods once. No questions. He turns away, already dialing.
I shift my attention. “Theo.”
He’s already pulling his phone out. “Calder’s supervisor. On it.”
Good.
Then I look back at Violet.
She’s watching me like she’s trying to read my face, trying to understand how this is happening so fast. How the world is bending around her for once instead of crushing her.
“You are not doing anything else today,” I tell her. Calm. Even. “You are not making calls. You are not negotiating.”
She opens her mouth. Of course she does.
“I can—”
“No,” I cut in, firm enough that she stops. “This is not your burden to carry alone.”
Her throat works as she swallows. “You don’t have to do this.”
That’s the thing. She still thinks this is about obligation.
“Yes,” I reply. “I do.”
I hold her gaze, let my voice drop just enough to matter. “No one gets to tear your family apart and walk away.”
Something in her finally gives. I see it in the way her shoulders sag just a fraction, in the sharp nod she gives like she’s afraid she’ll fall apart if she moves too slowly.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
It’s not gratitude that hits me.
It’s ownership.
She didn’t mean to offer it. She doesn’t even know she did. But in that moment, standing there looking at me like I’m the only thing holding the ground steady beneath her feet, something locks into place inside my chest.
Mine.
I don’t touch her. I don’t say it out loud. I don’t need to.
I turn away before I do something reckless and start issuing orders.
“Camille,” I say.
She looks up immediately.
I pull one of my private cards from my wallet and hold it out to her. “Take her. Distract her. Food, spa, movies, shopping, whatever she wants. Take a driver. Theo goes with you.”
Camille blinks. “All of that?”
“Yes.”
She takes the card slowly. “You sure?”
I look back at Violet. “Very.”
Theo glances between us, suspicion flickering across his face, but he doesn’t argue.
“Keep her busy,” I add. “I don’t want her thinking.”
Camille nods. “I can do that.”
Good.
I turn toward the stairs, already lining up calls in my head, already mapping pressure points. Calder made a mistake. A fatal one. And he doesn’t even know it yet.
I take two steps.
Violet grabs my shirt sleeve.
The contact is light. Barely there. But it stops me cold.
I turn back.
She’s staring up at me, eyes intense, searching my face like she’s afraid of what she might find there.
“Please be careful,” she says quietly. “Calder is after you. I need you to stay out of prison.”
The concern in her voice is real. Sharp. Earnest.
It twists something in my chest.
I smirk, just a little. Enough to keep her from seeing what this actually costs me. “That’s what Devin is for, sweetheart.”
Her breath catches at the word.
I lean in just enough that only she hears me. “I’ll be fine. Relax today. Let me handle it.”
She hesitates, then nods.
Reluctantly.
I straighten, gently freeing my sleeve from her grip before I lose my restraint entirely.
As I turn and head upstairs, phone already pressed to my ear, one thought settles in with absolute clarity.
She just gave me an opening.
And I am not going to waste it.
Theo reroutes the call before I even ask.
“Morales,” I say, not bothering with a greeting.
There is a half second of silence on the other end. Long enough for fear to register.
“Mr. Ashcroft,” Morales says quickly. Too quickly. “I was just about to call you. I understand there’s been a situation involving Detective Calder and one of your employees and I want to assure you we’re taking this very seriously.”
“Save it,” I snap.
I continue up the stairs, my grip tightening on the phone. “Your detective cornered my employee in a women’s restroom. He threatened her. He put his hands on her. He attempted an arrest with no warrant, no cause, and no authorization.”
Morales exhales. “That is not consistent with the report I was given.”
“Then your report is a lie,” I say flatly. “And you have an hour to decide which version of events you want to defend.”
I reach the landing and pause by the railing.
Below me, Camille is already in motion. She has Violet by the hand, tugging her toward the front door. Violet looks back once, her face pale but composed, forcing herself upright when everything in her wants to fold.
Good.
Theo follows them, keys in hand.
I mute the call with my thumb.
“Theo,” I say quietly.
He looks up, surprised.
“I want pictures every thirty minutes,” I tell him. “Proof she’s where you say she is. Driver included.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You don’t think I’d keep her safe?”
“I don’t gamble,” I reply. “Send them.”
He hesitates, then nods. “Yeah. Okay.”
I watch Violet disappear through the front door before unmuting the call.
Morales is still talking. Rambling now.
“We can place Calder on administrative leave pending a full internal review,” he says. “If procedures were violated, we will take corrective action.”
“Administrative leave is not corrective action,” I say. “It’s a courtesy. One he does not deserve.”
“Mr. Ashcroft, you have to understand, there are processes.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “You are talking to a man who dismantles companies for breakfast. Do not explain process to me.”
There is a sharp swallow on the other end of the line.
“And while you are scrambling to protect your own,” I continue, voice hardening, “you will also remove the restrictive hold Detective Calder placed at St. Thomas Funeral Home.”
Morales goes silent.
I stop walking entirely.
“That hold,” I say slowly, deliberately, “was unauthorized. It was retaliatory. And it was designed to hurt my employee by keeping her brother separated from his mother even after death.”
“That order was placed pending investigation,” Morales says cautiously.
“Incorrect,” I reply. “That order was placed by a disgraced detective abusing his authority. You will remove it now.”
“Mr. Ashcroft, I will need to verify that—”
“You have five minutes,” I cut in. “Not an hour. Not a day. Five minutes. Or I will personally file for emergency judicial review and make sure every reporter in this city knows your department interfered with a family burial.”
His breathing is audible now.
“You will suspend Calder immediately,” I continue. “You will revoke his badge and access. You will open an internal affairs investigation that includes his prior departments, his arrest history, and his use of force complaints.”
“That level of inquiry requires cause,” Morales says weakly.
“You have cause,” I snap. “You have physical evidence on my employee. You have building footage. You have witnesses. And if that is not enough, I will personally ensure the Sentinel, the Attorney General, and every civil rights organization in this state receives a full timeline of your failures.”
Morales’s voice drops. “Let us not escalate this unnecessarily.”
I resume walking.
My voice goes very calm.
“This is me being restrained.”