Page 4 of Their Arrangement

He stood as I stepped in—too quickly, like reflex—and then froze. Sat back down. His jaw clenched, his throat bobbed. His eyes flicked to mine and away again, like the sight of me cost him something.

For a heartbeat, none of them spoke.

The tension filled the air like a pressure system, like gravity itself shifted.

Then Barron said it.

“Cloe Woods.”

Not a greeting.

A verdict.

My name landed like a slap, sharp and familiar. Like he’d waited to say it just to seehow I’d flinch.

I opened my mouth. No sound came. My fingers tightened on the strap of my purse until I felt the fraying leather cut into my palm.

“You’re not on our schedule,” he added, voice smooth and flat.

“I—I know. I’m sorry. I just…” My voice cracked like glass. “I was hoping I could talk to one of you. Or—” I swallowed hard. “All of you, I guess.”

Another beat of silence. Royal arched one dark brow, his smile deepening. Wolfe didn’t move. But I felt him turn. Like a wind current. Like a tide.

Barron didn’t shift. But the way his body leaned forward slightly—like a shadow lengthening—told me everything.

Loyal’s voice broke the stillness. “What’s going on, Cloe?”

His voice wasn’t cruel.

But it wasn’t kind either.

It was distant. Hesitant. Like he was trying to remember something he used to feel about me.

“I need a job.”

The words dropped like a stone. Naked. Humiliated.

“A job,”Barron echoed, tone unreadable.

“I’m not asking for favors,” I rushed. “I just—I’ll do anything. Admin. Phones. Filing. I’m good with people. I can learn. I just?—”

“You want to work here,” Royal cut in, his voice a lazy drawl, “atLawlor Diamonds. The girl who ghosted after our sister’s funeral. Who disappeared for two years and comes back with scuffed shoes and a sob story.”

My cheeks went hot.

“I didn’t disappear.”

“You didn’t come back,” Wolfe said from behind me. His voice slid down my spine like smoke. “Same thing.”

I turned toward him—and it hit me.

His eyes weren’t just dark.

They were void.

Observant. Detached. Dangerous.

Wolfe Lawlor wasn’t just angry.