Chapter 4
Tessa discovered the discrepancy.
Four weeks earlier, 2 shipments of raw pharmaceutical material had arrived from overseas.
Both had been classified as unusable after water damage and removed from the accounts.
Hodges handled the cargo.
Gary Donovan approved the report from the logistics department.
Tessa printed the records.
The wireless printer inside Roman’s office began producing the evidence.
She closed the computer when the primary entrance unlocked.
Roman entered at exactly 11:30 p.m.
The living area was dark.
Amber light beneath the kitchen cabinets and the blue stove clock provided the only illumination.
He moved slowly.
The collapse after adrenaline had become heavier than usual.
Maintaining control while killing a man employed for 5 years pulled against his shoulders.
Roman dropped his keys over the entrance table.
They struck sharply.
“I am inside the kitchen.”
Tessa’s voice traveled through the apartment.
Roman approached the light.
He stopped at the edge of the island.
Tessa sat over a stool wearing 1 of his oversized black cashmere sweaters above her skirt.
She appeared small.
Her posture remained rigid and unbroken.
Roman said nothing.
He crossed directly toward the bar.
He lifted a bottle of single-malt Scotch, ignored the heavy glasses, and drank from the bottle.
He needed the heat to remove the remembered taste of the basement.
Roman placed the bottle down and held the counter with both hands.
His face lowered.
He waited for the question.
Is he dead?
Did you kill him?
Tessa did not ask.
She moved a stack of printed pages across the island until they stopped beside his elbow.
“Gary Donovan.”
Her voice carried the same flat precision used to report a canceled appointment.
“Night logistics manager.”
Tessa continued.
“He approved the false reports.”
“He has removed cargo from the secondary warehouse for at least 4 months.”
She looked toward the records.
“The estimated loss is approximately $2.4 million in street value.”
Roman stopped.
He examined the papers.
Then he turned slowly toward her.
“You discovered this tonight.”
It was not a question.
“You said the company contained a weakness.”
Tessa’s delivery remained calm.
“I reviewed the division.”
She tapped the evidence.
“The records are careless.”
“Donovan used his own access credentials to override the automatic system.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“He is arrogant or unintelligent.”
“Possibly both.”
Roman turned completely.
The woman sitting inside his kitchen had not asked about death.
She ignored the moral consequences and solved the logistical failure leading toward them.
He approached her slowly.
Roman stopped approximately 1 ft away.
The air between them became dense and charged.
“Hodges identified Donovan 10 minutes before I shot him.”
Roman used deliberate brutality, testing her limits.
“Carmine is collecting Donovan from his apartment.”
Tessa did not react.
Her eyes held his.
“Good.”
Her voice remained even.
“The company cannot tolerate a structural weakness.”
Roman’s chest tightened.
His bandaged hand gripped the counter near her hip, enclosing her inside his presence.
He leaned close.
Scotch, rain, and gunpowder remained over him.
“Tessa.”
His voice became a rough warning.
“Do you understand what you are doing?”
“I am performing my job, Mr. Valorie.”
“No.”
Roman’s left hand rose.
He did not ask.
His palm held her jaw, and his thumb moved over her cheekbone.
The contact was firm and possessive.
“A secretary prepares accounts and orders coffee.”
Roman’s eyes remained fixed on hers.
“A secretary screams when a man returns with blood over his shoes.”
His voice lowered.
“You are looking at a murderer.”
“You are handing him the next target.”
Tessa leaned slightly toward his palm.
The movement was almost invisible.
Roman felt it.
Heat traveled through him.
“I am looking at the man who came for me.”
Her voice became a whisper.
Something within her cynicism opened.
“I spent my entire life following the rules.”
Tessa held his gaze.
“The rules place you inside locked rooms with monsters.”
“The rules allow you to die.”
She raised 1 hand and enclosed Roman’s wrist.
“If the choice is between becoming a victim and standing over your side of the accounts—”
Tessa’s fingers tightened.
“I choose your side.”
Roman stared at her.
For years, he maintained an absolute division between his 2 lives.
The polished company.
The violent structure beneath it.
Tessa had become the connection.
She crossed through his world’s fire and emerged transformed into steel.
Roman did not want to corrupt her.
He was also selfish.
He wanted her precisely as she was then.
Cold.
Brilliant.
Standing beside him in darkness.
“There is no return from this.”
His voice roughened with desire.
“If you enter this life, you remain.”
Roman’s fingers moved toward the back of her neck.
“You do not leave when the records become covered in blood.”
His eyes hardened.
“You belong to me.”
“To all of it.”
“I know.”
Roman released an uneven breath.
He closed his fingers through her hair and rested his forehead heavily against hers.
His eyes closed.
“You are a frightening woman, Ms. Quinn.”
“You require an executive assistant, Roman.”
Her breath touched his mouth.
“Your operations are disorganized.”
A low laugh moved through Roman’s chest.
He pulled Tessa against himself and buried his face against her neck, breathing the vanilla scent of her hair over the remaining odor of violence.
The boundary had been crossed.
The front desk was empty.
Roman had found his partner.
Valorie Logistics was quiet at 6:00 a.m.
The cleaning personnel had polished the lobby’s marble, leaving behind a light scent of lemon wax.
Roman and Tessa entered through the glass doors together.
For 3 years, this was where they separated.
Roman used the private elevator leading toward the executive floor.
Tessa turned left toward reception and began organizing overnight correspondence.
That morning, she did not turn.
She passed the front desk.
Her heels created a sharp, authoritative rhythm across the marble while she followed Roman into the elevator.
He selected the highest floor.
The doors closed around the mahogany interior.
Roman looked toward her.
Tessa wore a tailored charcoal suit resembling his own clothing.
A thick envelope remained against her chest.
Her expression revealed nothing.
“Carmine placed him inside the main conference room.”
Roman’s delivery had already become operational.
“You do not need to witness this.”
He looked toward the doors.
“It will be unpleasant.”
“Donovan is not Hodges.”
Tessa did not look toward Roman.
“He is a financial criminal.”
“He believes he outsmarted violent men.”
She held the envelope more firmly.
“If you simply injure him, he will die believing he was more intelligent than you.”
Her eyes hardened.
“I want him to understand precisely how he was discovered.”
The elevator opened.
“Lead the way, Ms. Quinn.”
Roman spoke quietly.
The main conference room had been designed for corporate intimidation.
Glass walls overlooked the harbor.
A large slate table occupied the center.
Gary Donovan sat at its distant end inside a high-backed leather chair.
He was a thin man in his late 30s, wearing a wrinkled shirt and an expression of artificial outrage.
Two Valorie men guarded the entrance, their hands resting near concealed weapons.
Donovan stood when Roman entered.
“Roman.”
His voice carried practiced indignation.
“This is absurd.”
“Your men removed me from my bed at 3:00 a.m.”
He gestured toward the room.
“I demand an explanation.”
Roman did not answer.
He went to the table’s head, pulled out a chair, and indicated it to Tessa.
She sat.
Roman remained behind her.
Both large hands rested over the rear of the chair.
The position communicated hierarchy without requiring words.
Donovan looked toward Tessa in confusion.
“What is the receptionist doing here?”
“I am executive assistant to the chief executive.”
Tessa opened the envelope and placed 3 spreadsheets over the table.
“I am also conducting an internal review concerning $2 million of missing cargo from Pier 41.”
Donovan released a dismissive laugh.
“Missing cargo?”
He leaned backward.
“Hodges managed the shipment.”
“The roof leaked.”
“The contents became unusable.”
Donovan lifted both hands.
“I only approved the loss.”
He looked toward Roman.
“I manage an entire division.”
“I cannot control weather.”
Tessa moved the 1st page across the slate until it stopped near him.
“This is the weather report from that evening.”
Her tone remained flat.
“There was no precipitation.”
Tessa watched his face.
“The roof did not leak.”
Donovan’s confidence weakened for less than 1 second.
“Then a pipe broke.”
He shook his head.
“I do not remember every detail.”
“I approve 100 documents each week.”
Tessa sent the 2nd page toward him.
“This is the maintenance record for Pier 41.”
Her voice became colder.
“No plumbing repair was ordered or completed during the previous 6 months.”
She continued.
“The cameras covering the secondary loading area also experienced an isolated network failure lasting exactly 42 minutes while the cargo was removed.”
“Technology fails.”
Donovan’s voice rose.
He looked directly at Roman, attempting to exclude Tessa.
“Are you allowing a secretary to question me about a router problem?”
Roman did not move.
His expression resembled carved stone.
“Listen to the woman, Gary.”
His voice was quiet.
“She is speaking.”
Tessa moved the 3rd page.
It was a bank record.
“This is the transaction history of a company registered inside the Cayman Islands beneath the name GD Consulting.”
Her eyes held Donovan.
“Two days after the product was classified as damaged, $400,000 entered this account.”
Tessa continued.
“The authorization originated from the internet router inside your South End apartment.”
Silence filled the conference room.
Donovan stared at the page.
Color disappeared from his skin.
May you like
His mouth opened without sound.
The outrage vanished.
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