He stepped behind her, hand sliding around her waist. “You saying I should’ve brought both?”
Her breath hitched, but she covered it with a grin. “Too late. You set a high bar.”
He kissed the side of her neck, slow and deliberate. “We’ll revisit it tonight.”
“Planning on surviving the day first?”
He pulled back, the softness in his eyes hardening into focus. “We have a name.”
Evangeline stilled. “Who?”
“The Office Administrator, Ana Morales. Jesse flagged her access credentials in the server logs. She had top-tier admin clearance to scrub surveillance footage.”
Evangeline frowned and nodded. “That makes sense. I traced a login string back to Ana’s workstation. I found it hard to believe. She’s so sweet, quiet and efficient. The kind of person you forget is in the room...” Her voice trailed off.
"What?"
"I also just looked at a piece of security footage that stuttered and was missing ten minutes."
“There you go. That's it exactly,” Dawson said. “She's the perfect kind of ghost someone would need for digital cleanup.”
“But why would she help frame me?”
“Money. Blackmail. Leverage. We’ll find out.”
Evangeline sipped her coffee, letting the bitter warmth anchor her. “I want to go in. Talk to her myself.”
Dawson’s eyes darkened. “No.”
Evangeline crossed her arms, chin lifting. “Why not?”
“Because we don’t know who she’s working with, or if she’s the only piece in play. You showing up could spook her, or worse.”
“I’m not a child, Dawson. I’ve handled crisis calls with billion-dollar clients, put out international fires beforebreakfast, and turned smear campaigns into goodwill—all in three languages. I know how to read people. I know how to take charge of a conversation. Peter underestimated and undermined me; I’d appreciate you not doing the same.”
He stepped closer, his voice low and steely. “I’m not underestimating or undermining you, Evvy. I would never do that. But this isn’t PR, and it isn’t damage control. We’re talking about a potential co-conspirator to murder, and you’re the one they’re setting up. One wrong move, one misread, and she could vanish—or make you the next victim.”
Her breath hitched, but she didn’t back down. “You think I can’t handle pressure?”
“I think I can’t handle losing you,” he snapped—then cursed under his breath.
The silence stretched.
She blinked, lips parting slightly. in a soft smile “Dawson…”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “We do this my way. Carefully. Cleanly. I’m not taking chances with you.”
The sharp edges in her posture softened, but only a little. “Fine. But I still want in.”
“No.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Dawson stepped closer, voice firm. “You are not going anywhere near her without backup. Not until we know if she’s working alone.”
“And who made you lord protector of my life?”
He leaned in. “Me. Being a Dom isn't something I just play at in the club, and it's not confined to sex. Being a Dom is being a protector—it's about taking care of your sub. So the second someone tried to frame you for murder is the second my protective asshole went into gear.”
