Page 128 of The Price of Forever

All I heard was the last name. Cora Margulis. My stomach sank to the core of the earth. “Probably.”

“I’ll make a note. Listen, you have a real shot at collecting evidence, based on who these people are and what you’re hearing already. But it’s not going to be simple. It’s going to be risky, and you need to keep a tight lid on this if you decide to do it.”

“We have to do it,” I said. “I already know Jordan will want to do whatever it takes, if it means she can help her brothers.”

“The first step is to tell absolutely no one. You need an intel team, and that’s it. This mission cannot leak. If there’s any interference in the evidence gathering aspect, the entire thing could be thrown out by a court. It’s easy to toss evidence when the intel being gathered is by someone related to the defendant. Trust me on this one. If you want this to succeed, the brothers cannot in any way know that you are gathering information. In fact, I’d get comfortable right now with the idea that this has a higher likelihood of failure than success.”

“Got it.”

“If they’re being prosecuted by the SEC and their trial is set to start later this fall, then you’ll need to act quick. Your most likely route is to convince the Office of the Inspector General that there’s been sufficient corruption and misconduct to warrant a mistrial. They’d likely throw out the case. But that’s only if they accept your evidence.”

I drew a slow breath, nodding. “Understood.”

Federico went on to suggest some methods for clandestine recording—top of the line devices that only he knew how to source, along with some ideas about how to coordinate all of this in a short amount of time. By the end of our call, I felt like a full-blown operative—mostly because Federico said he’d be express shipping me a selection of devices that had proven to work well with small dresses in loud situations. Suddenly, I was a part of the operative network, and now I needed to assemble the intel team.

My head spun by the time we ended our call. I sat for a while massaging the bridge of my nose, going over the immense amount of information I’d just received. This would become a full-blown operation…right when I was planning to assign someone else to her full-time protection.

What the fuck are you supposed to do now?

One thing was certain: I didn’t like all the deceit that awaited me in the near future. Keeping a budding relationship with Jordan from the Fairchilds was one thing. Maintaining that secretiveness amid this covert spy mission? Way too much. Something had to give.

I didn’t know how to resolve this moral conflict without removing myself entirely. Making someone else in my business her primary protection officer was never going to be a solution, since the fact remained that I’d fucked her and fallen for her while she was on my client roster.

I needed to resign. Immediately.

It wasn’t an ideal time, but we’d figure out the next steps with a clear conscience and the truth out in the open air.

My palms sweated as I called Damian. Here goes nothing. I tried to practice what I’d say while the phone rang. Nothing came to mind except I’m sorry and you’re really not gonna like what I’m about to say.

“Hey, Seven.” Damian’s greeting jostled me out of my thoughts. “How’s it going?”

I let out a low breath, thinking over all the insanity of the last few days. “Pretty normal, I guess. Took Jordan to her shift this morning, now working on a few things.” I paused, wondering how to segue into what I’d really called about.

“You guys haven’t noticed anything strange lately, have you?”

“Strange?”

Damian sighed. “I don’t mean to derail whatever you were calling about. It’s just that Axel and Trace and I were talking today about how we’ve been noticing more…attention on us. Since the trial is right around the corner.”

“Hm.” I frowned, clicking into assessment mode. “Have there been any physical incidents? Threats? Do you feel like you’re being tailed?”

“The amount of commentary on our case is increasing again. News outlets are running the story more; we’re getting lots of requests to appear on TV, give statements, things like that. We’re getting more hate mail than usual. I know Jordan hasn’t been visually identified as our little sister yet—but I’m worried the extra scrutiny in advance of the trial could lead to something we don’t like.”

“You’re absolutely right,” I said. “People are going to be digging. We’ve done a good job of keeping her separate from you in public but that doesn’t mean the wrong people won’t be eager to find out whatever they can.”

“That was our thought too.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to expect with this trial. I feel like it’s going to be a shit show. Things are ramping up before it’s even started—so what will it be like when it starts?”

Guilt flooded me. And here I’d been thinking about resigning. Leaving them high and dry when shit was about to blow up. I pinched at the bridge of my nose, weighing my options while the seconds ticked by.

“I’ll ramp up security,” I told him at last. “We’ve got Chico on hand, and Liam is onboarding. I’ll make sure Jordan stays out of the public eye as much as possible. And all planned excursions for you and your brothers will be accompanied.”

“Good. Yeah. That sounds like a plan,” Damian said, the relief thick in his voice.

“Forward me all the hate mail you’ve been getting,” I instructed. “Along with any threats. I’ll use those to assess if we need to modify the plan at any point along the way.”

“Thank you, Seven. I know we made the right decision going with you.”

I rubbed at my forehead once the call ended. I wasn’t sure if I fully agreed with Damian. There was so much he didn’t know right now, and the guilt from those omissions was just as raw for me. But one thing was clear: I couldn’t abandon the Fairchilds in their time of need.

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