Ethan’s glarecould’ve shattered glass. He stood across from Charlotte and Graham, barely keeping himself in check, the heat of his anger radiating off him in waves.
“I’m done with the game playing,” he said, voice tight. “Charlotte, I know you’re not my leak.”
Charlotte opened her mouth, but Ethan held up a hand. “Save it. Graham, I don’t trust you. I’ve had eyes on you.”
His voice dropped to nearly a whisper—just for them. “Someone in this room betrayed the group,” he said, eyes hard. “And I’m going to pin it on you,” he added, turning to Graham.
Graham didn’t flinch. Just nodded once. He understood.
Ethan straightened, took a slow breath, then… “ENOUGH!” he roared, voice booming across the operations floor.
Heads snapped up. Conversations froze. Coffee cups paused mid-air.
He pointed a finger at Graham like it was a loaded weapon. “You think I wouldn’t find out? You think you could just run your mouth and slide out clean?” he bellowed. “You’re a retired detective. You have no protection, and you betrayed the team I let you join as a courtesy.”
People stood now. Whispering. Staring.
“I told you I’d bury the bastard who leaked intel to the press,” Ethan continued, pacing like a man ready to explode. “And guess what, Graham? All signs point to you!”
He grabbed a pair of cuffs from his belt. “You’re done. Get up.”
Graham stayed still. Let it happen.
Ethan yanked his wrist and clamped one cuff to the desk, loud and final. “You sit there and think about what kind of coward turns on their own,” he spat. “You want to come clean? Now’s your chance.”
The room was dead silent. Charlotte stared at Ethan, wide-eyed. It was all part of the play—but only the select few knew that.
And whoever the real leak was, they were watching this unfold and thinking they were safe.
Big mistake.
The room still buzzed with tension, law enforcement officers whispering behind monitors, pretending not to watch while they listened to every word. Charlotte and Graham played their roles.
Graham sat cuffed to the desk, silent, his eyes fixed ahead. Charlotte kept her expression blank, but her knuckles were white around the edge of the table.
Then Noah walked in, coffee in hand, brow furrowed at the tension thick in the air. He scanned the room, noticed the way everyone was looking in one direction, and then saw Graham, cuffed.
“What the hell?” he muttered, striding toward Ethan. “Can I talk to you?”
Ethan didn’t turn. “Not now.”
“I’m serious.” Noah stepped closer. “Outside. Now.”
Ethan looked back at Graham, voice sharp. “If you so much as shift in that chair, I’ll make sure you never stand again. Got me?”
Graham gave the smallest nod.
Ethan followed Noah out of the room into the hallway just beyond the glass. As soon as the door clicked shut, Noah rounded on him.
“What are you doing?” he hissed. “This was your plan?”
“It’s a performance,” Ethan said, jaw tight. “To rattle the leak. Make them feel safe.”
Noah leaned in. “It’s not Graham.”
Ethan stilled. “I know that.”
Noah’s voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s Nathan Stokes.”
