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Two of Langford’s men loitered near the steps, one half-distracted, thumbing his phone, the other looking in the wrong direction entirely.
Piper’s eyes narrowed. “Hey,” she snapped, not even raising her voice. “Eyes on the perimeter, gentlemen. That phone won’t save your ass if something goes sideways.”
Both men straightened immediately, the one with the phone awkwardly shoving it into his pocket.
Quinn’s brows lifted faintly.Typical. Tex would’ve chewed ass if any of his men acted like that. She’d seen them all in that bar, cool, controlled, hyperaware. They wouldn’t just have her and Piper’s back. They’d have every person on this site cataloged by posture, movement, and threat level. Each one carried that quiet intensity, those steely eyes that didn’t miss a damn thing.
Dagger’s world was different. Sharper. Stricter. Unforgiving.
Somehow…comforting.
Every glance measured, every shift noted. She’d felt it, the weight of their awareness. Not just suspicion, but protection.
Dagger’s protection.
She hated how much she trusted it, trustedhim, even now.
Still, Piper’s presence made Quinn feel a little steadier. The woman didn’t miss a beat either.
Her auburn hair was twisted into a no-nonsense bun, her khaki shirt neatly tucked into a slim military green skirt, boots planted firmly like she belonged to the land itself. She wascompact, built for efficiency, and carried herself with the ease of someone who had spent their life in male-dominated fields and learned how to thrive in them.
She had been masterful in negotiating Quinn’s contract back in DC, had the kind of backbone that waded through bureaucratic bullshit and streamlined the process. They hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but there was mutual respect there.
“Hey. How did you sleep?”
“Fitfully.” Quinn’s voice was rough. That dream still lingered, leaving her mouth dry and her skin hot.
Piper nodded, like she already knew. “Well, we’re heading into the deep end of the pool, so welcome to the madness.”
Quinn smirked. “I thrive in madness.”
Piper snorted. “Yeah, I saw that last night. It’s clear you and your brother-in-law have some things to work out.” She paused, then added with a shrug, “I made an offhand comment because, well, the guy is fucking gorgeous. So, just ignore me and focus on what you need to get you through. If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
Of course she would have to be that kind. Disarming, direct, and impossible to dislike. Quinn smiled, her earlier flicker of pettiness melting away.
She had kissed Dagger.
Judging by the way he looked at her… it was clear he couldn’t see anyone but her.
Inside the trailer, the air was cooler, the hum of a generator working to keep it that way. The scent of paper, ink, and stale coffee greeted her, mixing with the faint metallic tang of dust carried in from outside.
Gabriel Rojas, their resident project manager, was already at the table, flipping through paperwork. The man was broad-shouldered, built like an old-school linebacker, but had the steady presence of someone who’d weathered war, loss, andchaos, yet still had steel in his spine and empathy in his eyes." He looked up as they entered, giving Quinn an easy nod.
“Hell of a project you got here,” he said.
Quinn dropped her bag onto the chair, unzipping the portfolio case. She pulled the blueprints from her bag, fingers briefly hesitating. The weight of them was more than paper and ink. It was proof. Proof she’d survived, rebuilt, clawed her way back. Proof that voice in her head had been right, not the one whispering she might not be ready, but the one that sounded maddeningly like Dagger, steady and unshakable.You can do this, Quinn.
“This is more than a project,” she said, smoothing her palm over the plans. “This will be the most advanced embassy in the region.”
Her fingers traced the structure, outlining the reinforced entry points, the underground tunnels, the security features woven seamlessly into the aesthetics. It was a fortress without looking like one, inviting, open, but untouchable.
Gabe whistled low. “Damn. I’ve seen a lot of embassy builds and none of them ever looked like this. This isn’t just functional. It’s... alive. Like the building is reaching out instead of closing in.”
“That’s why we chose her,” Piper said.
They spent the next hour combing through logistics, security concerns, the inevitable delays that came with construction in a volatile region. When Langford’s name came up, Quinn forced herself not to roll her eyes.
They took a break outside, sitting on stacks of concrete slabs, eating lunch from pre-packed containers. Sun-warmed chicken empanadas wrapped in foil, lukewarm soda, and gritty wind that blew dust into everything. The slab beneath her thighs was hot, the sweat trickling down her back making her itch, but still, it was satisfying.