Z

I stayed.

Not because Jack ordered me to.

Not because Lang frightened me.

And definitely not because of the way Jack had looked at me when he admitted I had become leverage.

I stayed because somebody had used my work, invaded my privacy, followed my mother, and expected fear to make me disappear.

Fear had controlled enough of my life already.

Money.

Rent.

Insurance.

Freelance contracts.

The constant terror of one bad month.

I was tired of obeying it.

We spent the next three days analyzing the files.

The payment spreadsheet contained thirty-seven companies.

Most were ordinary subcontractors.

Seven existed only on paper.

Three shared addresses.

Two were linked to executives involved in the harbor redevelopment approval process.

And one had received six million dollars from Lang Development six days before Northbridge’s confidential bid was leaked.

Jack brought in accountants.

Lawyers.

Digital investigators.

Not men with baseball bats.

I noticed.

“You’re surprised,” he said.

We were alone in his office after midnight.

“I assumed your investigative process involved more basements.”

“It occasionally does.”

“Jack.”

He leaned back.

“Relax.”

“That word has never worked on any woman in history.”

He smiled.

I had begun seeing those smiles more frequently.

Not around other people.

Only around me.

That realization was dangerous.

“So what happens if we prove Lang bribed people?” I asked.

“We hand everything to counsel.”

“And?”

“Counsel decides what goes to federal investigators.”

I stared.

“You’re going through legal channels?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ill?”

“No.”

“Possessed?”

“Emily.”

I closed my laptop.

“You have spent years making people afraid of your family.”

His expression changed.

“My father spent years doing that.”

“You continued it.”

“Yes.”

No defense.

No excuse.

The honesty disarmed me.

Jack looked toward Boston glittering beyond the windows.

“You want to know something nobody prints about crime families?”

“Probably.”

“Eventually the empire becomes a prison.”

He turned toward me.

“My father wanted Northbridge legitimate because he understood that.”

“And you?”

“I spent fourteen years cleaning up what he left behind.”

“Completely?”

“No.”

Again, no lie.

“We still operate businesses I don’t particularly enjoy explaining.”

“That sounds suspicious.”

“It should.”

“People get hurt?”

Jack’s jaw tightened.

“Sometimes.”

I looked away.

There were parts of Jack I could not romanticize.

Could not pretend were harmless because he made me laugh.

He understood that.

Maybe that was why he never asked me to.

At one in the morning, Dominic entered.

“We found Colin.”

Jack stood.

“Where?”

“Hotel outside Providence.”

“Alive?”

“Yes.”

Something passed between them.

I didn’t like it.

“I’m coming.”

Jack immediately said, “No.”

“Why?”

“Because this isn’t a marketing meeting.”

“He targeted me.”

“Exactly.”

“He might talk to me.”

“He might also put a bullet through a door.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“Because it has happened.”

I stared.

Dominic cleared his throat.

“I’m going to wait outside.”

Smart man.

After ten minutes of arguing, Jack lost again.

Two hours later, we arrived at a quiet motel outside Providence.

Colin had not been captured.

He had called.

He wanted protection.

From Victor Lang.

We met him in an empty conference room at a law office arranged by one of Jack’s attorneys.

Colin looked thirty years older than he had at Northbridge.

His hands shook.

“You brought her?”

Jack sat beside me.

“She insisted.”

“I’m sitting right here,” I said.

Colin looked at me.

“I’m sorry.”

“Start with why.”

He swallowed.

“I worked for Lang before Northbridge. He placed me there.”

“Eleven years?” I asked.

“No. Two.”

That surprised Jack.

Colin continued.

“Rebecca hired me eighteen months ago. Lang paid me to collect information. Bids. Acquisitions. Shipping contracts.”

“And Emily?” Jack asked.

Colin looked down.

“When I saw her name on the candidate list, I recognized it.”

“From Meridian?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because she received the wrong file.”

“I didn’t even know I had it.”

“Lang didn’t believe that.”

My stomach twisted.

“You were already monitoring me?”

“For months.”

Jack became very still.

Colin looked terrified.

“I never touched her. I swear.”

“You gave them her address.”

“I had to.”

Jack stood.

I grabbed his wrist.

He looked down at my hand.

Then at Colin.

“You’re going to sit,” I said.

“Emily.”

“Sit.”

Dominic made a noise suspiciously similar to a cough hiding a laugh.

Jack sat.

Reluctantly.

I looked at Colin.

“Why are you here?”

“Because Lang is cleaning everything.”

“What does that mean?”

“He knows the federal review is getting close. Everyone who can connect him to the payments is disappearing.”

I didn’t ask what disappearing meant.

I didn’t want to know.

Colin reached into his jacket.

Dominic immediately drew his weapon.

Colin froze.

“Flash drive.”

Jack nodded once.

Colin slowly removed it and placed it on the table.

“Everything is there.”

“What everything?” I asked.

“Payments. Recordings. Messages.”

Jack’s stare hardened.

“Why didn’t you give us this sooner?”

“Because there’s something else.”

Colin looked at Jack.

“Your father.”

Jack stopped breathing.

“What about him?”

“Lang didn’t just compete with him.”

Silence.

Colin swallowed.

“He ordered the hit.”

The room became colder.

Jack’s face emptied completely.

I remembered the photograph.

Two days before he died.

I remembered Jack saying somebody had discovered who mattered.

Colin continued.

“Your father was going to expose Lang’s network. The harbor payments started decades ago. Your father tried to pull out.”

Jack’s voice was almost inaudible.

“Proof.”

“It’s on the drive.”

Jack reached for it.

Then the window behind Colin shattered.

Dominic shouted.

I hit the floor.

Jack covered me with his body.

A second shot ripped through the wall.

Security returned fire toward the building across the street.

Colin collapsed.

For several seconds, nobody moved.

Then Jack lifted his head.

“Emily?”

“I’m okay.”

He looked at me desperately.

Not like a boss.

Not like a mafia leader.

Like a man terrified history was repeating itself.

Across the room, Colin groaned.

He was alive.

Dominic shouted for medical help.

Jack looked at the flash drive lying beneath the table.

Then back at me.

His hand moved to my face.

“You should never have met me.”

I stared at him.

“That decision belonged to the sandwich.”

He almost laughed.

Almost.

Then his forehead touched mine.

Just once.

Briefly.

And I realized the most dangerous thing inside that room wasn’t the shooter.

It was the fact that I no longer wanted Jack Whitmore to let me go.