Seraphine's POV
The café door swung shut behind Jack and Jill, their voices fading into the street noise.
I didn't give the men time to start asking questions.
"We're changing locations," I said, pushing my chair back. "And before you start—yes, I'm aware this is inconvenient. But a public café is not where you discuss guest lists, security protocols, or other classified information."
Kaiden raised a brow. "Classified?"
"Yes," I said flatly, grabbing my coat. "I have a secure conference room at my office. Encrypted network, soundproofed walls, no casual eavesdropping. Unless you prefer to broadcast your security plans to half the city?"
They followed without argument.
---
My company's headquarters occupied the top floor of a restored brick building downtown — clean lines, warm wood, and a scent of coffee and fresh paper in the air. This wasn't a sterile corporate cage; it was built to keep the staff comfortable enough to think straight under pressure.
Inside, my team moved like clockwork. A few lifted their heads as we passed, their smiles warm but professional — the kind you give to someone who has your respect and your trust.
"Morning, Ms. Valak," Mary called from behind the reception desk, her eyes flicking briefly toward the three men trailing me. She was the same Mary from my very first day — champagne hair, sharp glasses, and a knack for knowing things she shouldn't. "Conference Room A's ready. Just like you asked."
"Thank you," I said, meeting her gaze a beat longer than necessary. There was something unspoken there — the memory of the pressure she'd been under to talk me into taking this job. Pressure that hadn't come from her. Pressure that had smelled faintly of Jack… or Jill… or both.
I moved on before the men could read too much into it.
---
My office was at the far end of the hall — glass walls with blackout blinds, sleek desk, two high-backed chairs for clients, and enough floor space to pace when I needed it. A small table in the corner held a pot of tea, steam curling in the warm light.
I gestured toward the room. "Check the perimeter. Listening devices, cameras. Everything."
Zaire blinked once, then exchanged a look with Kaiden and Theo. For a second, they didn't move.
"This isn't my first rodeo," I added, one brow raised.
That got a half-smirk out of Kaiden. "Yes, ma'am."
They moved quickly — scanning vents, testing walls, running their hands along the undersides of furniture. I stood at the window, waiting.
"All clear," Zaire said finally.
Kaiden leaned forward, all elbows and wolfish scrutiny. "Let's be frank. That meeting wasn't just professional. Our ability to do our job hinges on knowing the full scope of the threat. And your client's behavior suggests he's more of a threat to you than anyone else."
Zaire, still calm but watching me like he was cataloging every blink, said, "We need a comprehensive profile of the clients. Public we can pull, but we need you to fill in the gaps."
"Fine." I gestured to Theo's tablet. "Let's see what you've got."
Theo tapped the screen, pulling up glossy headshots framed with headlines. His tone went mock-formal, like he was reading off an awards night cue card.
"Jack Smallcock—"
Kaiden coughed, badly disguising a laugh. "Sorry, every time. Our dad may not have been a saint, but at least he didn't doom us with that."
I arched a brow. "So, I have your father to thank for the privilege of calling you Kitty, Wolfy, and Teddy Bear?"
Theo shot him a look, but Kaiden just grinned. "Yup. That's on Dad."
I smirked. "Noted."
Theo continued, voice back in announcer mode. "Jack Smallcock — visionary entrepreneur, self-made magnate, known for revitalizing underperforming properties."
"Visionary entrepreneur?" I scoffed. "Try ruthless slumlord. And those 'underperforming properties'? He gutted rent controls and tripled leases until tenants had no choice but to leave."
Kaiden gave a low whistle. "That's… less glossy."
"Reality rarely is," I said dryly.
Theo swiped to the next profile. "Jill Warren — benevolent socialite, known for spearheading charity galas, particularly in children's healthcare."
I laughed without humor. "Her only benevolence is toward herself. She's been 'spearheading' the same children's wing renovation for five years. The budget ballooned while the walls stayed the same shade of peeling beige."
Zaire didn't comment, but there was something in his eyes — a flicker, like he was fitting puzzle pieces together that I didn't want laid out.
Theo locked the tablet and leaned back. "Public versus private. That's the kind of context we need if we're going to keep this circus from turning into a bloodbath."
"Then I hope you're good at crowd control," I said, leaning forward. "Because Jack and Jill? They want everyone to see them. They'll choose the most public venue possible every time. Cameras, journalists, gawkers — they'll invite them in."
"And that," Kaiden muttered, "is how I know this gig's going to kill me."
Kaiden's mutter still hung in the air when I said, "Good news. If this gig kills you, at least you'll die famous. Probably in slow motion on a livestream."
Theo groaned. "Perfect. I've always wanted my obituary to be trending."
Zaire's focus didn't waver. "Public venue changes everything. We're not just protecting the couple — it means securing perimeters you can't lock down, controlling crowds you can't keep out, and managing guest movements under constant surveillance."
"Add to that," I said, tapping my pen against the desk, "a client who thrives on chaos. If Jack sees a camera, he's going to walk toward it, not away."
Kaiden frowned. "What's their short list of venues?"
I pulled a folder from my drawer and slid it across. "Jack's shortlist, you mean. I'd have picked spaces with controlled access. He's picked—"
Kaiden flipped it open and groaned. "The Grand Marlowe Hotel ballroom. The Crown Pavilion. And…" He paused, staring at the last page. "…an outdoor ceremony in the center of Westbridge Plaza? Are you kidding me?"
Theo leaned over his shoulder. "That's basically inviting every blogger, paparazzo, and bored teenager with a phone to wander in."
I smiled without humor. "Exactly. And remember, they'll also be inviting the business rivals Jack's crushed, the exes Jill's humiliated, and the people they've stepped on to get where they are. Which, conveniently, is almost everyone."
Kaiden slapped the folder shut. "This isn't a wedding. This is an open-air target."
"Then treat it like one," I said.
Zaire leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. "We'll need aerial coverage, undercover crowd plants, and facial recognition running from every camera we can hide without violating public filming laws."
"And," I added, "discreet staff vetting. My team will be in place at every service point — catering, florals, photography. No one steps into that event without clearance."
Kaiden shot me a look, equal parts amusement and respect. "Not your first."
I raised a brow. "Not even my hundredth."
Theo sat back, a slow grin spreading. "Alright. Let's make it hell for anyone stupid enough to crash this wedding."
Zaire's mouth curved — just slightly. "Starting with the bride and groom?"
I didn't blink. "Especially the bride and groom."
---
The tablet lay in the center of the table like an offering, still open to Jack and Jill's nauseating public profiles. I let it sit there. There was no point in dissecting more lies tonight — not when we had work to do.
"Alright," I said, my pen clicking twice before I pointed it at Zaire. "Perimeter security is yours. Every guest, every vendor, every delivery that touches this event passes through your team first. I want background checks run twice, once at confirmation and again within twenty-four hours of the wedding. I don't care if they're bringing in cake or folding chairs — they get screened."
Zaire's nod was short, but his eyes said he was already ten steps ahead.
"Kaiden," I continued, turning just enough to catch his smirk fading. "Crowd flow. Guest control. You'll work with my floor managers to keep people where they're supposed to be. No wandering photographers, no drunk uncles in the kitchen. I'll have a schematic of the venue to you by tomorrow."
"Wolf herding," he muttered under his breath, grinning when I rolled my eyes.
"Theo," I said, ignoring him. "Internal sweep and oversight. You'll coordinate with my leads on-site. If something feels off — anyone looks out of place, anyone hovering where they shouldn't — you're the one making the call."
Theo inclined his head. "Understood."
Mary slipped into the room with two steaming mugs of coffee, setting one in front of me and the other near Theo's elbow. Her smile was quick, professional, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes before she left — the kind of look that said don't let them get to you.
I refocused. "My team will handle the vendor side. Contracts, payments, schedules — all locked down. You handle keeping people breathing."
No one argued. Good.
We went over entrances, choke points, possible infiltration routes disguised as vendor access. I mapped the timing of major wedding-day events while Zaire suggested optimal team rotations to prevent fatigue. Kaiden threw in contingencies for weather. Theo proposed covert comms placements that wouldn't interfere with décor.
Somewhere in the middle of it, I realized none of us had moved for nearly two hours. The clock on the wall was sliding past nine.
"I don't just plan flowers and seating charts." I reminded them when Kaiden's eyebrows shot up at one of my more… layered contingency plans.
Zaire's gaze lingered on me for a moment too long. "Yeah," he said quietly, almost to himself. "I can see that."
We wrapped when my notes had gone from neat bullet points to scrawled shorthand only I could decipher. I shut my folder and leaned back. "Alright. We're as ready as we can be for now. You'll have my schematics and schedules by ten tomorrow morning. Anything else before we call it?"
The silence that followed wasn't the awkward kind — it was the heavy, satisfied quiet of people who'd just built something solid.
---