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I could see it in the way his shoulders stiffened. The way his fingers bunched into fists at his sides.
And then the elevator doors slid open, and Diego disappeared inside.
The footage kept rolling. The man didn’t follow. He just stood there.
Watching.
And then he turned and walked away.
A slow, cold chill spread down my spine.
“Who is he?” I asked.
Isabel shook her head. “He wasn’t a guest here. If he was, his face would be in the system.”
Marcus didn’t say anything, but I felt his body tense behind me.
Ryker had told me not to come here. Had looked me in the eye, voice low and edged with warning, and told me to stay the fuck away from The Palmetto Rose. He’d already decided it was too risky, too exposed.
And yet, here I was.
Watching footage of Diego’s last moments.
Standing in a hotel Ryker was about to own.
His name was already stamped on the contracts. As soon as the deal closed, this place would be his. Which meant I wasn’t just looking at security footage—I waslooking at something that, soon enough, would be Dane property.
And if Ryker had already claimed it, it meant one thing: this place mattered.
“We need a clearer image, Izzy,” Marcus said, his voice tight.
Isabel’s fingers paused over the keyboard, and she smirked slightly. “Ryker calls me Isabel. It’s so formal.”
Marcus gave a low, knowing sound. “Of course, he does.”
She rolled her eyes, then turned to me. “But you can call me Izzy. All of my friends do.”
There was something unspoken in the offer—an acknowledgment that we were in this together now, whether we liked it or not. A quiet sort of loyalty.
“Thanks, Izzy.”
She sighed, rubbing her temple before turning back to the screen. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I nodded, my mind racing, trying to make sense of what I’d just seen.
Then the phone at the security desk rang.
Izzy’s head snapped toward it. “That’s the main line.”
She hesitated before picking it up. “The Palmetto Rose, security office.”
A pause.
Her face changed as she listened. Her eyes flicked to me. Then she slowly held out the phone.
“It’s for you,” she said. “Diego’s parents.”
My breath hitched.