Chapter 91 Warning of Financial Backing
Violet
When Councilman Ricki Merci leaves Rowan’s office, he looks pleased.
Not polite pleased.
Not networking pleased.
Genuinely pleased.
That unsettles me more than if he’d stormed out angry.
Because men don’t leave Rowan Ashcroft’s office smiling unless they’ve either secured something monumental or agreed to something dangerous.
And Ricki Merci is not a man who smiles lightly.
I wait exactly forty seconds before the intercom on my desk lights up.
“Inside,” Rowan says.
No greeting.
No tone shift.
Just the command.
I stand, smooth my blazer instinctively, and step into his office.
Theo is still seated to his left. The tension in the room hasn’t dispersed yet. It lingers like smoke after something burned.
Rowan looks up at me, expression neutral.
“Close the door,” he says.
I do.
“What happened?” I ask, not bothering with pleasantries. “Why is Hargrove’s rival in this building? And why did he look like he enjoyed himself?”
Theo huffs softly under his breath. Rowan doesn’t.
Rowan gestures toward the conference table instead of his desk. “Sit.”
That alone tells me this isn’t small.
Camille is already on her way.
She slips into the room seconds later, eyebrows raised, curiosity written plainly across her face.
“What did I miss?” she asks, taking the seat beside me.
Rowan presses a button on his desk phone.
“Devin,” he says. “Speaker.”
A beat later, Devin’s voice fills the room. “I’m here.”
Rowan folds his hands together on the table. Controlled. Calculated.
“Councilwoman Hargrove attempted to interfere with our development permits,” he says calmly.
Camille blinks. “Attempted how?”
Theo leans back in his chair. “She’s been quietly flagging our pending projects for additional review. Environmental compliance audits. Zoning reconsiderations. Financial transparency addendums.”
“That sounds… bureaucratic,” I say evenly.
“It’s deliberate,” Rowan replies.
There’s no heat in his voice.
That’s what makes it worse.
“She cannot legally deny the permits,” he continues. “So she delays them.”
“On what grounds?” I ask.
“Public safety concerns,” Theo says dryly. “Community oversight. Regulatory compliance.”
Camille scoffs. “That’s thin.”
“It’s strategic,” Rowan corrects quietly.
I study him. “So you met with Merci because…”
“Because funding shifts power,” Theo finishes.
Rowan’s eyes flick to me. “I withdrew all financial support tied to Hargrove.”
My stomach drops.
“All?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Campaign contributions,” Theo adds. “Charity sponsorships aligned with her office. Development partnerships influenced by her donors.”
Camille leans forward. “You’re destabilizing her campaign.”
“Yes,” Rowan says simply.
I stare at him. “Why?”
“Because she made it personal,” he replies.
The room stills slightly.
Theo takes over. "After the outburst in our lobby. After the quiet pressure on our permits. After the leak with the journalist. This isn’t coincidence anymore.”
My fingers curl slightly against my skirt.
“You think she orchestrated the leak,” I say.
“I know she exploited it,” Rowan answers.
That is not the same thing.
“And Ricki Merci?” I press.
“He now has our financial backing,” Rowan says evenly. “In exchange for ensuring our developments are processed without obstruction.”
“That’s legal?” Camille asks.
Theo nods. “Campaign funding tied to policy priorities is not illegal. It’s politics.”
“It feels dirty,” Camille mutters.
Rowan’s gaze sharpens slightly. “It’s defensive.”
I look at him.
“Is it?” I ask quietly.
He holds my stare. “Yes.”
The air between us cools.
Devin clears his throat on speaker. “From an intelligence standpoint, this was the correct move.”
I feel the weight of that.
Rowan leans forward slightly. “This means escalation.”
Camille stiffens. “Define escalation.”
“Public pressure,” Theo says. “Administrative audits. Increased scrutiny.”
“Surveillance,” Rowan adds.
The word lands heavy.
My throat tightens just slightly.
“What does that mean for us?” I ask, my tone remaining even even though my pulse has picked up.
“It means,” Rowan says, voice calm but iron beneath it, “you do not go anywhere alone.”
Camille blinks. “Rowan—”
“No,” he cuts in, not harsh, just firm. “No bathroom alone. No staff kitchen alone. No stepping outside for fresh air alone. Phones on you at all times.”
I inhale slowly. “You’re overreacting.”
His eyes move to mine.
“I am not.”
Theo nods once. “He’s not.”
Devin’s voice follows. “We’ve already had one breach internally. We assume there are others.”
My spine straightens. “You think someone else inside this building is leaking information?”
“We don’t assume safety,” Rowan says quietly.
Camille shifts beside me. “This is insane.”
“It’s containment,” Rowan replies.
“Containment sounds like imprisonment,” I say before I can stop myself.
His jaw tightens just slightly.
“It’s temporary,” he says.
Camille exhales slowly. “So what now?”
“Now,” Theo says, “we move carefully.”
Devin’s voice lowers slightly through the speaker. “I’ll continue monitoring Hargrove’s donor networks. If anything surfaces tying her directly to the leak or Calder, I’ll update you.”
"You think she's connected to Calder?" I asked, shocked.
"There are no coincidences in life," Devin says, "Rowan, I'll keep you posted."
“When?” Rowan asks.
“Soon,” Devin replies. “And Rowan?”
“Yes.”
“Lock down your perimeter tighter than you think you need to.”
The call ends.
The silence in the room feels colder than before.
I sit back in my chair slowly.
“So,” I say evenly. “Hargrove’s rival is now financially supported by this company. Hargrove is cornered. She’s retaliating. And we’re the collateral.”
Theo nods slightly.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“And if she pushes harder?” Camille asks.
Rowan looks at both of us.
“She won’t break us,” he says.
It’s not reassurance.
It’s intent.
I study him carefully.
He looks calm.
Controlled.
Like this is simply another boardroom negotiation.
But I know him well enough now to see it.
The steel beneath.
The calculation.
And something else.
Protectiveness.
I smooth my blazer again, more out of habit than necessity.
“I don’t need a guard to walk me to the bathroom,” I say quietly.
“You do,” Rowan replies.
Cold.
Absolute.
“And you will.”
The room feels smaller.
Camille reaches over and squeezes my hand under the table.
“We’ll stick together,” she says softly.
Theo nods. “Always.”
I meet Rowan’s gaze one last time.
“You can’t control everything,” I say.
His eyes hold mine.
“Watch me.”