Page 38

When Rory pushed open the door to Fenwick’s office, it didn’t open fully, and Grace was almost slammed into the edge, but Nash was fast. The flat of his hand caught it, and she saw the wince. He turned and sent a lethal glare toward Rory, and Grace followed suit.
“I always underestimate how heavy that door is. If you need an escort out of the building, I’m at your service.”
“Fuck off,” Nash said succinctly.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Unaffected, he followed them in.
“Unbelievable,” Grace muttered.
The room was massive. Tastefully aggressive. Overcompensating.
A massive mahogany desk dominated the space, framed by leather chairs and a wall of framed certifications that screamedlegitimacya little too loudly.
Behind the desk, Sterling Fenwick rose.
He was all sharp suits and polished veneers, his silver hair artfully arranged, his eyes cold and assessing even when his mouth curved into a contrite smile.
"Ms. Harlan. Mr. Rahim," he said smoothly. "First, let me extend my deepest apologies. What you experienced today is… beyond unacceptable."
Grace didn’t move.
Nash didn’t either.
The room cooled by degrees.
Fenwick shifted, slightly off balance.Good.
"We are, of course, conducting a full internal review. However, given the… trauma you’ve experienced, we would fully understand if you chose to postpone your audit until the matter is resolved. Take some time. Step back. Regroup."
Grace tilted her head, studying him like she would a line of corrupted code.
This wasn’t concern. This was survival. He wanted them out. Wanted them rattled enough to quit.
Her smile was tight. “We appreciate the concern, Mr. Fenwick. But no. Thank you.”
Fenwick blinked.
Grace stepped forward, letting the hum of anger and adrenaline sharpen her voice into something diamond hard. "This incident has only reinforced the necessity of our audit. Clearly, there are vulnerabilities within OrdoTech's infrastructure that require immediate and thorough documentation."
Fenwick's smile tightened, the edges of his civility fraying.
His gaze shifted to Nash.
"Mr. Rahim," he said smoothly. "While we understand your instincts, you did destroy several thousand dollars’ worth of valuable equipment."
Grace opened her mouth to answer, but Nash beat her to it, his voice low, edged with lethal calm. "Be grateful it was the drones," he said, his eyes dark and steady.
Silence crackled in the room.
Rory twitched.
Fenwick’s face froze, the way a man does when he realizes he’s lost but hasn’t figured out how to retreat yet.
Grace let the moment stretch just long enough to make it hurt. Then she smiled again. Smaller. Sharper. "If there’s nothing else, Mr. Fenwick," she said, voice polite as a scalpel, "we are done for the day. My partner needs first aid, but we will be back tomorrow to resume the audit. We expect another usable office, and?—”
“No fucking drones,” Nash said. “You know, until the matter is resolved.” He let that hang in the air, a clear and unfeigned threat. Nash wasn’t referring to drones. He was referring to their digging and final discovery of what exactly was rotten here at OrdoTech.
Without waiting for dismissal, she turned on her heel and walked out, feeling Nash fall into step behind her, their silent unity as sharp as Nash’s threat.