Chapter 80
Evelyn's POV
"Ms. Valentine and I can start the preliminary review. Get a sense of the document structure, identify which sections need deeper analysis." Julian gestured at the files spread across Adrian's desk with the kind of easy confidence that suggested this was perfectly normal. "By the time you're back, we'll have a better idea of what we're looking for."
Adrian hesitated, and I could see him trying to figure out if there was a polite way to refuse. To insist on staying. To not leave me alone with Julian in his office.
But he couldn't. Not without making it obvious that he didn't trust Julian. Or worse—that he didn't trust me.
"All right," he said finally. "Fifteen minutes. Twenty at most." His eyes met mine, and there was something in them that looked almost like an apology. "I'll be right down the hall if you need anything."
"We'll be fine," Julian said before I could respond.
Adrian gave us both one last look—lingering on me a moment longer than strictly necessary—then walked out, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
The silence that followed was deafening.
I stared at the closed door, then turned to look at Julian, who had already moved to Adrian's desk and was casually flipping through the contract files like he hadn't just orchestrated the entire thing.
"There is no Jakarta emergency, is there?" I asked.
"Oh, there is." Julian didn't look up from the documents. "I just happened to notice it in his inbox when I was here last week and made a mental note of the timeline." He turned a page with deliberate precision. "Seemed like useful information to have."
I moved closer to the desk, arms crossed. "You said you wanted to force me to face him." My voice was quiet, but there was something almost amused in it. "Now you're doing everything you can to keep us apart."
Julian's hands stilled on the papers for just a fraction of a second. Then he continued flipping through the file like I hadn't said anything at all.
"I'm doing what's necessary for us to work efficiently," he said, voice perfectly level. "Adrian standing here watching you instead of focusing on the investigation doesn't help anyone."
"Right." I let the word hang there, weighted with disbelief. "That's the only reason."
He finally looked up, gray eyes meeting mine with that careful blankness he used when he was hiding something. "What other reason would there be?"
I could have called him on it. Could have pointed out the jealousy I'd seen in his eyes when Adrian had been standing too close. Could have asked why he'd been so quick to manufacture an excuse to get Adrian out of his own office.
But something stopped me.
Because underneath the manipulation and the territorial posturing, Julian had actually done something kind. He'd seen me struggling with Adrian's proximity—with the weight of history and longing and guilt that made it hard to breathe—and he'd given me space.
Even if he'd never admit that's what he was doing.
"No reason," I said finally, and felt the corner of my mouth curve slightly. "You're right. This is purely practical."
Something flickered in his expression—surprise, maybe, or relief that I wasn't going to push. He turned back to the files, but I caught the slight relaxation in his shoulders.
"Exactly," he said. "Purely practical."
I moved to the other side of Adrian's desk and picked up one of the contract bids, scanning through the language with the kind of focus I'd learned in Moscow. Looking for patterns. Connections. Anything that might point to who had orchestrated the frame-up.
The silence that settled between us was different now. Less tense. Almost comfortable.
And despite everything—despite the absurdity of the situation, despite knowing I should probably be annoyed at his transparent jealousy—I felt something warm settle in my chest.
Because he'd seen me drowning and had thrown me a lifeline, even if he'd wrapped it in manipulation and refused to acknowledge what he was really doing.
Because he cared enough to be ridiculous about it.
I bent over the documents, hiding my expression, and tried to ignore the way my lips kept wanting to curve into a smile.
---
An hour passed. Maybe more. I lost track of time as Julian and I worked through the files with the kind of silent coordination that surprised me. He'd pull a document, I'd cross-reference it with another. I'd point out a suspicious pattern in the bidding language, he'd pull up financial records on his phone to trace the shell companies.
We'd narrowed it down to three potential suspects—competitors who had both the resources and the motive to orchestrate something this complex. One of them had particularly interesting ties to Eastern European defense contractors, the kind of connections that would make hiring Kholod possible.
I was making notes on my phone when the door opened.
Adrian walked in looking more exhausted than when he'd left, tie loosened and jacket slung over one arm. His eyes went immediately to me, then to Julian, taking in the way we were positioned on opposite sides of his desk, surrounded by organized stacks of documents.
"Sorry," he said, and there was genuine apology in his voice. "The Jakarta situation turned into a crisis. I had to get Legal involved, and then—" He stopped, jaw tightening. "I should have come back sooner."
"It's fine," I said, straightening up and setting down the file I'd been reviewing. "We made good progress."
"We've identified several potential leads," Julian added, already gathering the documents we'd pulled with efficient precision. "Shell companies with suspicious timing. Competitors with the right connections." He slid the files back into Adrian's folder. "We have what we need."
Adrian's eyes narrowed slightly. "Already? I thought you said this would take a few hours."