Chapter 95
Evelyn's POV
We moved to the living room after I finished eating, Julian carrying his laptop while I settled onto the couch with a cup of coffee I didn't really need but wanted anyway.
The domesticity of it all felt surreal—sitting here with him in my apartment, discussing conspiracy theories and assassination plots like we were planning a vacation instead of trying to prevent a murder.
Julian opened a file on his laptop, and I recognized the Blackstone Defense Solutions logo immediately. He'd been thorough—financial records, corporate structure, known associates, everything Weber had managed to dig up over the past few days.
"It's them," Julian said, scrolling through the documents. "It has to be. The timeline matches perfectly—two weeks after Winthrop Industries beat them on that Pentagon contract, the assassination attempt happens. Cassius Martin has the resources, the connections, the motive. Everything points to Blackstone."
I leaned forward, studying the screen. The evidence was circumstantial but compelling—shell companies that traced back to Blackstone, financial transactions that lined up with known payments to Russian operatives.
"So we know it's them," I said. "What's the problem?"
Julian looked at me like I'd asked why water was wet. "The problem is we don't have proof. Not the kind that would hold up in court, anyway. Everything we have is circumstantial. We need something concrete—a paper trail, recorded conversations, something that definitively links Martin to the assassination plot."
I frowned, genuinely confused. "Why do we need proof?"
He blinked. "What do you mean, why do we need proof? How else are we supposed to—" He stopped, studying my face. "Evelyn, what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that in my world, we don't need proof. We just need a reason." I met his gaze steadily. "If we know it's Martin, if we're certain he's behind the plot to frame Adrian, then we deal with him. We don't need evidence that would hold up in court because we're not taking him to court."
Julian stared at me for a long moment, and I watched understanding dawn across his face. "You're talking about killing him."
"I'm talking about solving the problem." I kept my voice neutral, matter-of-fact. "Isn't that what you do? Solve problems for your clients?"
"Yes, but—" He ran a hand through his hair, and I could see him trying to figure out how to explain this. "Evelyn, Titan Security is a legitimate business. We operate within the law. We gather intelligence, provide security, sometimes we engage in combat operations, but everything we do is legal. Or at least legally defensible."
I felt my eyebrows rise. "Wait. Your company is actually legal?"
"Of course it's legal." He looked almost offended. "What did you think I was running, some kind of criminal enterprise?"
"I thought you were running a private military company. I assumed that meant you operated in the gray areas where legality was more of a suggestion than a rule."
"We operate in gray areas, yes. But we're still bound by law. We have contracts, regulations, oversight." He closed his laptop and turned to face me fully. "I can't just assassinate Cassius Martin because we think he's behind a conspiracy. That's not how this works."
I sat back, processing this information. It shouldn't have surprised me—of course Julian's company was legitimate. He moved in elite circles, had government contracts, operated openly. But some part of me had assumed that beneath the corporate veneer, he was playing the same game I was. That his world and mine were more similar than they appeared.
Apparently not.
"Okay," I said slowly. "So we need actual evidence. The kind that would stand up in court."
"Yes."
"And we don't have that yet."
"No. Not yet." He opened the laptop again, pulling up another file. "Weber's still digging, but so far everything we have is circumstantial. We can prove financial connections between Blackstone and various shell companies. But we can't prove that Martin ordered the hit or that he intended to frame Adrian."
I thought about this for a moment, turning over possibilities in my mind. "Then we wait."
Julian looked at me. "Wait for what?"
"For them to make another move." I met his gaze. "Their plan didn't work. The senator is supposedly dead, but Adrian hasn't been arrested. The investigation hasn't pointed to Winthrop Industries. From Martin's perspective, the operation was only half successful."
"You think he'll try again."
"Don't you?" I tilted my head. "If you'd gone to all this trouble—hired assassins, set up an elaborate frame job, orchestrated a political assassination—and it didn't achieve your objective, would you just walk away?"
Julian was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Most people would. Most people would see that the situation had gotten too complicated, that continuing would only increase their exposure, and they'd cut their losses."
"But Martin's not most people, is he?"
"No." Julian's jaw tightened. "He's not. Martin doesn't do things halfway. If he wanted to destroy Adrian and take down Winthrop Industries, he's not going to stop just because the first attempt didn't go exactly as planned."
"So we wait," I said again. "We watch. And when he makes his next move, we'll be ready."
"And then what? We gather evidence while he's actively trying to frame Adrian for murder?"
"If that's what it takes." I held his gaze. "You said you operate within the law. That means we need to catch him in the act, right? Get something that proves his involvement beyond any doubt?"
"In theory, yes. But Evelyn—" He leaned forward, his expression serious. "If we wait for him to make another move, we're gambling with Adrian's life. With your life, potentially, if Martin figures out that you're the one who failed to kill Caldwell. This isn't a game."
"I know it's not a game." I kept my voice level. "But what's the alternative? We have suspicions but no proof. We can't go to the police because they'd ask questions we can't answer. We can't take this to Adrian because he'd want to know how we know all this. So we wait. We watch. And we prepare."
Julian studied me for a long moment, and I could see him weighing the options, calculating risks, trying to find a better solution.
"You're right," he finally said. "I don't like it, but you're right. We need to wait for Martin to show his hand."
"And when he does?"
"When he does, we'll be ready." He reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together. "But Evelyn—this time, you're not going in alone. Whatever Martin's planning, whatever move he makes next, we handle it together. Understood?"
I looked down at our joined hands, feeling that strange mixture of gratitude and amusement. "You know, this would all be so much easier if we could just do things my way. One bullet, problem solved. No waiting, no gathering evidence, no worrying about what would hold up in court."
"Your way is illegal."
"My way is efficient." I tilted my head, unable to resist needling him a little. "But I suppose if we're going to be the good guys, we have to do things the hard way. Rules and regulations and all that tedious legality."
Julian's lips twitched despite himself. "Are you complaining about having to operate within the law?"