Page 218 of Brainwashed

Velle stomps into the center of the room. “Sorry to interrupt,” he murmurs, glancing at me.

I can’t help but gape at him, wondering where his hostility toward me went. Something about him seems different, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. There’s a spring in his step, and a confidence about him that feels more genuine and less ostentatious.

And for the ease of Velle’s presence, there seems to be a stiff discomfort radiating from Manuel Blanco.

“What do you need, Officer Chevelle?” Manuel hisses, his jaw visibly tight.

“We need fuel,” Velle says to him, unaffected by Manuel’s sudden mood shift.

“Fuel?” His light eyebrow jumps.

“For the yacht,” Velle adds, nodding. “Can you send Kent? Or maybe Paulino…”

Manuel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “When is this supposed to be happening again?”

“This weekend.” Velle’s lips quirk slightly.

I can’t help how my eyes are bouncing back and forth between the two of them. This interaction isinteresting, to say the least.

“Fine,” Manuel growls, pursing his lips. “I’ll have Paulino get it, and have the yacht stocked for this weekend.”

“Thank you.” Velle’s voice comes out silkier than I’ve ever heard it.

And I swear to God, a solid ten seconds of pure tension passes during which the room is silent, but I canfeelsomething happening. Manuel’s posture is rigid, and it looks like his fingers are digging into his desk while Velle is posted in a dominant stance, his gaze stuck on The Ivory.

“Is that all?” Manuel asks, gravelly.

“Yes, sir,” Velle replies, though he’s still just standing there while they glare at each other. Making the air in the room hot and stuffy, like we’re in a jungle.

At last, Velle’s eyes flit from Manuel’s to mine. As if he forgot I was here for a second. And in the split second of eye contact, I see something intriguing. Something beneficial.

He probably still hates my guts, but things have clearly changed since our last interaction.

Jonathan Chevelle could be a potential ally.

He turns and stalks out of the room, closing the door behind him. And I hear The Ivory letting out a breath he may have been holding in.

His eyes linger on the door while he says, “Anyway. Lemuel, I need to tell you… Things have been changing here recently. And there will be more changes in the near future. I have some things in play that I cannot mention just yet. But I need to do what’s best for Alabaster Penitentiary. I cannot react emotionally here. I’m sure you understand…”

He pauses to stare at me until I nod. I’m not actually sure what he’s talking about, but I have a feeling it has something to do with Velle. Especially after their awkward tension just sucked the air out of the room.

Or maybe he also knows that I’m in love with Felix… and I want to reactemotionallyand kick his ass for what he allowed those scumfucks to do to my sweet psycho.

“I have never been one for emotions myself.” He sighs. “When you let your guard down, you leave yourself open to attack. And there are many people who would like to see me with my shields down. Which is why I have no intention of lowering them ever again.”

Again?

“With the arrival of my newest addition, thanks to you, I plan to do some… restructuring.” He steeples his fingers on top of his desk, eyes flitting to the door again. “And that’s all I can say for now. But I trust that if I need to confide in you, I can?”

I gawk at him for a moment, stowing the truth in my muscles as I nod.Play the game. Be the monster.“Yes, of course.”

His lips curve pleasantly as he stands up, rounding the desk. I stand as well, and he reaches out to shake my hand.

“Happy to have you back, Dr. Love.” His fingers wrap firmly around mine. “And no hard feelings, right?”

I force an easy grin, faking it through my teeth. “Water under the bridge.”

His smirk grows. “Good to hear. Oh, and let me just say, I’m impressed with yourworkin Chicago.”