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"Contingency planning," she answers. "Disaster recovery plan, section five, from last month's update."

A good lie. Those documents only mention "European alternative routing" with no specific locations.

"Make it happen," I say.

As she walks away, I text Eamon.

Track everything she touches, get a tap on her phone something is not right here.

He responds.

On it.

By midnight,we resume our operations. All our clients remain unaware of problems while our underground logistics are routed through alternate channels.

Orla is in the kitchen making coffee. She pours me a cup.

"Good work today," I say. When I want to scream at her, yell and shake her, demand she tells me all her secrets.

"Just doing my job," she replies.

"It is not your job to know about Gibraltar?" I watch her face fall, then recover.

"I pay attention. You mentioned Gibraltar on calls."

I sip the coffee. "My mistake, I will be more careful about what I say."

It’s a test she fails without knowing. Those details mean she was digging places she shouldn’t be digging.

"Go home, rest," I tell her.

"I want to finish securing the Baltic route," she says. “I will rest once I know all opur data is safe, and that things are running smoothly.”

Perfect response.

"You can work from the security office," I say. "Code 5931."

"Thanks," she says, walking out.

I count to thirty, then check my security app. Camera 16 shows her on the elevator. Camera 22 captures her on the third floor. Camera 24 records her entering the security office with my code.

What she doesn't know is that office connects to our restricted archives with records dating back years, including Thomas Nolan's time with us. Records valuable to law enforcement.

Records that contain things she knows—but shouldn’t know.

I send Eamon another text.

She took the bait. Watch only.

If she did this—police, rival family, or something else—I need to know.

I drink my coffee while watching her. Orla goes into the records and pulls files from five years ago. Not random browsing an exact file, just one.

Why?

CHAPTER 17

ORLA