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“I can’t forgive him, Wren. I won’t.”

“You don’t have to. That’s not your burden to carry.”

I feel her nod. And even though her heart is broken, I know this is one of those moments she’ll look back on and realize it was a beginning disguised as an ending.

Just like I had to.

And right now, she doesn’t need silver linings or silver rings. She just needs her best friend and I’m right here.

18

SEAN

“Start from the top,” I say, crossing the room in two strides and settling into my seat at Langston Protection Services.

Marcus, Cal and Dani are already gathered.

I’m a few minutes late because of the chaos of the leaked product photos and campaign strategy of Lemon LLC’s new products. The information and pictures got leaked the previous day and Wren is livid about it. I kept my suspicions to myself while my team worked to figure out where the leak came from.

Cal taps a key, and on the center monitor, a series of flagged access logs pop up. “Following our suspicions, we pulled every document, calendar event, and internal email Wren’s assistant, Lily, has touched in the last ninety days. She accessed over two dozen items outside her normal scope of duties, many of them during hours she wasn’t scheduled.”

Dani steps forward next, head of investigations and sharper than anyone I’ve ever worked with. She flips through a printed report. “These aren’t accidental clicks. She opened and downloaded confidential strategy memos—some markedexecutive access only. And the timing lines up with every leak that’s gone public.”

She taps a page. “See this? The marketing deck for Wren’s new campaign? Leaked yesterday after Lily downloaded it. She accessed it at 11:03 p.m., off-site. And the IP? Tied to a Wi-Fi network registered to a short-term rental under a fake name.”

“Whoever owns the burner email account receiving the leaks used that same IP,” Cal adds. “We cross-referenced metadata from the attachments. The documents Lily sent came from Wren’s files with no formatting changes, no stripped metadata. It’s a direct transfer.”

Then Marcus slides a flash drive onto the desk.

“This is the kicker. Lily joined a private Slack-style group chat. Username: LemonInsider. She didn't even try to be coy,” he clicks his tongue. “Anyway, we breached it two days ago. Messages include screenshots of Wren’s private calendar, phone pics taken inside Lemon offices. She wasn’t working alone. Marlowe Skye is in there too, under the very vague name of StarPower.”

I scroll through the timestamped exchanges, media contacts, even directives. I press a finger to my temple.

Leak this Tuesday at 8 a.m. Eastern. Make sure it gets to CelebMag first. Don’t forget to crop out the timestamp.

“This is deliberate sabotage,” I say. “Coordinated.”

“And here,” Cal adds, pulling up a final image. “Security cam footage from a Midtown café last week. Lily and Camille Ross.”

Everything falls into place like a lock clicking shut.

I nod once. “I’ll handle the delivery.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into the Lemon LLC lot. The sun’s just starting to dip, casting long shadows across the building’s modern glass façade. I kill the engine and sit with it a beat longer than necessary.

This isn’t just another operation. This one’s personal.

I take the elevator to the top floor. Talia lets me into Wren’s office with a quick nod. Wren’s sitting on the couch, arms crossed over her chest. Both of them watch me with that mix of tension and hope I’ve come to expect in crisis situations.

“What is it?” she asks.

“I’ve been tracking the leaks,” I begin, opening my laptop. “Paparazzi showing up at the exact locations Wren’s supposed to be. Not just any location, specific ones which someone with access to her private calendar would know. Leaked details from internal emails. Slips from meetings no one outside the core team should’ve heard.”

Talia leans forward. “You think it’s a mole?”

“I know it is,” I say. “And I know who it is.”

I set the folder and flash drive on the table. “It’s Lily.”