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"Hmm?" she replied, her eyes never leaving the box. "No, I need to clean up this mess and try to recreate the donor list."

"I'll stay here and help. Keep an eye on her for ya," Mrs. McMillan spoke.

I gave her a nod of thanks before grabbing the gift box from Victoria's desk and strolling from the office. Leaving her to clean up the destruction didn't sit right with me, but I knew she would be safe with the Center's matron. Mrs. McMillan had a bloodthirsty streak to rival the deadliest gangsters, especially when it came to protecting her neutral ground.

Stepping inside the small control room where the security monitors were set up, I pulled out my phone and called Joey.

"I'm ready. What do you need?" Joey asked the second he answered the phone.

"I need you to send your forensics guy to the center." I replied, sliding the box onto the long control panel and flipping the switches to access the last twenty-four hours of security recordings.

"Someone attacked the center?"

"Yes, and no. Someone destroyed Victoria's office here and left a really fucked up gift for her. I'm getting ready to sort through the footage now, but I want someone looking into this fucking box while I do. Don't say a fucking word to Leighton until we know something. He took the princess to a fight, you know what that means, and we can't afford him going off the deep end right now."

"Okay, got it. I'll get our guys out there. You send home whoever you don't need. Call me if anything turns up. And… take care of our girl. She's not going to deal with this well."

"Always." I replied before ending the call.

While waiting for Joey's guys to arrive, I reviewed the footage. I started after the Center had closed for the night the day before and let it play at three times normal speed. The first few hours' worth of footage were unremarkable. It wasn't until the recording timer displayed just after two a.m. that the recording seemed to glitch. I stopped the playback, rewinding it to just before the glitch occurred, and let it resume playing atnormal speed. The screen flashed black so quickly that I would have missed it if I hadn't been looking for it.

"Son of a bitch." I hissed. "Someone's altered the fucking footage." I backed it up a couple of times, trying to match the exact moment to the timestamp on the recording before a knock on the security door pulled me out of my concentration.

"Boss?" The door opened a second later, and one of Joey's favorite errand boys walked in. "Got a crew waiting in the lobby for direction. Mostly street guys, but there's some forensics here."

"Thanks, Phil. Get the rest of your guys on clean up if Mrs. McMillan and the princess haven't finished most of it. Do a sweep for anything out of place, and tell Joey know what you find." I grabbed the gift box off the control panel and moved past him to the team waiting in the lobby.

Handing the box off to one of the forensics guys, I gave them the same instructions I'd given Phil before heading toward Victoria's office. Mrs. McMillan came out of the doorway as I approached and shook her head when she spotted me.

"You need to get that girl out of here, Dougherty. She's not built for this kind of stuff." Her tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Not that she'd get any. Victoriawasn'tmade for this. I nodded and turned to the office, my gaze landing on Victoria. She was kneeling in the corner where the filing cabinet had stood. Her hands worked in frantic motions as she muttered to herself, words spoken too softly for me to make out.

I approached her slowly so as not to scare her. It didn't take a genius to see that this direct and personal message shook her to her core. I reached out to touch her shoulder. The moment my hand made contact, she nearly launched herself into the wreckage of the filing cabinet, jumping away from me.

"Shhh, Bunny, it's just me. You're okay." I spoke just above a whisper, crouching to be on her level as she whirled around to face me.

Her eyes were wild with fear and anger. I felt awful, knowing I couldn't take it away from her. Realization crept in after a moment, and she calmed down.

"Craig?" she whispered.

"The one and only." I said, offering a reassuring smile. "Come on, Bunny. Let's get you home. Mrs. McMillan can direct the crews here for clean up. There's nothing else we can do for now."

She looked like she wanted to argue as her gaze swept around the office again, but after a moment, she nodded and let me help her up to her feet. I momentarily searched her face because asking aloud if she was okay seemed monumentally stupid. She wasn't, but she'd tell me she was.

"Let's go home." I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, rubbing her arm as I walked her out of the Youth Center. Mrs. McMillan directed the sweep our guys were making and nodded her goodbyes to us on the way out.

The drive home was mostly silent. I kept wracking my brain about what I could say that would chase the haunted look from her eyes. At least she wasn't shaking and muttering anymore. I couldn't complain after she'd reached for my hand at some point on the drive, gripping it tightly. It was hard not to grin like an idiot about it.

I didn't want to let go of her hand when we arrived back at the manor, even though it was necessary to get out of the car. Sighing at the loss of contact, I raced to the passenger door to help her, letting my arm fall around her shoulders again once I shut the door behind her. Her arm slid behind me, her hand resting on my lower back, sending a jolt of awareness through my entire being. Her dazed and faraway expression told me shedidn't realize what she'd done, even though it had lit up every nerve in my body.

Crossing the manor's threshold, my reverie was broken when her stomach growled loudly to remind us that we'd missed breakfast and it was already nearly lunchtime. She blinked a few times in surprise, and I couldn't help but smile at her.

"This is something I can help with. Go on up to my room, and I'll whip us up some comfort food. We can eat in peace in there, and I can get my systems running." I jerked my head toward the stairs and rubbed her arm before reluctantly letting her go. She raised an eyebrow at me but did as I'd asked.

I went to the kitchen and pulled out the ingredients to make grilled cheese and tomato soup. After the shock of not only seeing her office destroyed and the contents of the gift box left behind, I figured a light meal was the safest bet. I worked as quickly as possible without screwing up my recipe, wanting to get back to her as fast as possible.

While the soup simmered, I tore through the kitchen like a tornado, retrieving plates, bowls, and spoons. Then I turned my attention to the grilled cheese, my foot tapping impatiently as I cooked two sandwiches each. When the last one was on a plate, I dipped a tasting spoon in the soup and tested the temperature and flavor. It wasn't my best work because of how much I'd rushed, but it was still better than something from a can. Ladling some into both bowls, I grabbed a tray from under the counter, loaded the dishes up, and made my way upstairs.