Evelyn sat at her small kitchen table, the blue light of her laptop screen the only thing illuminating the dark room. She had been staring at the same error message for the last forty minutes.
File Error: Data Corrupted.
She clicked the mouse again, her finger trembling slightly. She tried the recovery software she'd kept on a private partition—tools the Yard didn't officially know she had. Nothing. It was like a digital fire had swept through her hard drive, leaving only ash behind.
"How?" she whispered to the empty room.
She thought back to her meeting with Ryan at the café. He had been so helpful, so ready to take the drive and back it up. He was her partner. He was supposed to be the one person she didn't have to second-guess.
Maybe the drive had been damaged in her bag. Maybe it was a virus Xander's IT team had planted on her computer when she plugged into their server. That had to be it. Xander was protective of his data; he probably had an auto-wipe protocol for unauthorized access.
She leaned back, rubbing her eyes. She felt sick. Months of timelines, photos of Mia Langford, and notes on Xander's movements were just… gone. She reached for her phone to call Ryan and tell him the bad news, but she paused.
Her phone buzzed. It wasn't Ryan.
Unknown Number: YOU SHOULD HAVE STOPPED.
The air in the apartment felt suddenly thin. She stood up, walking to the window and peering through the blinds. The street below was quiet. A single black sedan was parked near a fire hydrant, its engine idling, exhaust curling into the cold night air.
A heavy knock at her door made her jump so hard she nearly knocked her chair over.
She grabbed her service weapon from the drawer, keeping it tucked behind her back as she moved to the door. She looked through the peephole.
It was Victor, Xander's head of security. A man who looked like he had been carved out of granite and dressed in a tailored suit.
"Ms. Hart," he called through the door. "Mr. Voss is waiting."
Evelyn didn't open the door yet. "It's two in the morning, Victor."
"The schedule has changed," Victor replied, his voice flat. "He said it isn't a request. I'm to bring you to the office immediately."
Evelyn hesitated. If she didn't go, she would look suspicious. If she did go, she was stepping into the lion's den without any of her notes to back her up. She took a deep breath, hid her gun in her waistband under her sweater, and opened the door.
"Give me five minutes to get my coat," she said.
"Three minutes," Victor corrected.
The car ride was silent. Victor didn't look at her, and Evelyn spent the time staring out the window, trying to figure out what she was going to say. When they arrived at Voss Tower, the lobby was empty, the marble floors echoing with the sound of her heels.
They took the private elevator straight to the top floor. When the doors opened, the atmosphere was different. Usually, the executive floor was hushed and professional. Now, it felt like a war room.
Xander was standing in front of a wall of monitors in his office. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his hair was uncharacteristically messy, as if he'd been running his hands through it for hours.
He didn't turn around when she walked in.
"Sit down, Evelyn," he said.
"Xander, what is this about? Victor practically dragged me out of bed."
He turned then. His eyes were dark, rimmed with a frustration that bordered on fury. He picked up a remote and pointed it at the largest screen.
"This is the security feed from the hallway outside your apartment," he said. "From one hour ago."
Evelyn watched the screen. A figure appeared at the end of the hall. They were wearing a dark hoodie and moving with a strange, practiced confidence. They didn't look around for cameras. They didn't hesitate. They walked straight to her door, stood there for exactly sixty seconds, and then walked away.
"They didn't break in," Evelyn noted, her voice small.
"They didn't need to," Xander snapped. "They used a signal jammer to hit your Wi-Fi from the hallway. That's how they accessed your local network. That's how they got into your computer."
Evelyn felt a chill. She thought about the corrupted files. "I thought it was a virus. I thought maybe your system did it to me."
Xander walked toward her, stopping only when he was inches away. He was so tall she had to tilt her neck back to look at him. The scent of expensive cologne and late-night coffee rolled off him.
"My system? I'm trying to keep you alive, you idiot," he growled. He leaned in closer, his hand coming up to rest on the wall beside her head, effectively pinning her in place. "Look at the footage again. Look at how he moves."
Evelyn looked. The person in the hoodie moved with a specific gait. Shoulders back, feet planting firmly with every step. It was the movement of someone who was trained. Someone who knew how to clear a room.
"He knows the blind spots," Xander whispered, his breath warm against her ear. "He knows your protocols. He knew exactly when the security patrol on your street takes their break."
Evelyn tried to keep her heart rate down. "It's probably just a professional thief."
"Don't lie to me," Xander said, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. "A thief wants jewelry. This person wanted your information. They wanted to see what you knew about me. Or maybe what you knew about Mia."
Evelyn felt the heat of his skin as he stayed close, his shadow looming over her in the dimly lit office. The grip on her chin was firm, but she didn't flinch. She had spent years learning how to mask her reactions, and even with her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird, her face remained a blank slate.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "I'm an executive assistant, Xander. I'm not a detective. I'm not 'working' for anyone."
Xander let out a short, harsh laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "You expect me to believe that? A girl like you, with your reflexes and the way you watch every exit in a room? You're a terrible liar, Evelyn."
"I grew up in a bad neighborhood," she countered quickly, pulling from the cover story she had memorized weeks ago. "You learn to be careful. You learn to watch people. It doesn't mean I'm some kind of spy. I came here for a job, and now someone is stalking me because I work for you. If anything, this is your fault."
She pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance. He didn't budge at first, his muscles feeling like solid iron under his dress shirt, but then he slowly stepped back, giving her an inch of breathing room.
"My fault?" he repeated, pacing the length of the office. "Maybe. I have plenty of enemies. But none of them move like that guy on the screen. That's not a corporate hitman. That's someone with tactical training. Someone who knows how to bypass a civilian network in under three minutes."
He stopped pacing and looked at her. "And you aren't acting like a normal assistant who just found out she's being watched. You aren't crying. You aren't asking me to call the police. Why is that?"
Evelyn swallowed hard. She had to be careful. "I'm in shock. And I don't trust the police to handle things quietly. If the press gets wind that your assistant is being stalked, my life becomes a circus. I just want to do my job."
Xander stared at her for a long time, as if he could peel back the layers of her skin and see the secrets hidden underneath. "Your job is whatever I tell you it is. And right now, your job is to stay alive so I don't have another disappearance on my hands."
He walked over to his desk and pressed a button on the intercom. "Victor, get the car ready. We're going to the penthouse. Bring Ms. Hart's laptop and whatever else she has in the car."