Page 178 of Exposé

“If we don’t force their hand, it won’t matter,” I said, voice tight. “They’ll try to bury it, but we won't give them the chance. We send everything to your boss—digital, print, encrypted backups—spread it so wide they can’t silence it fast enough. If this goes public in a way they can’t control, it won’t be a leak—it’ll be a reckoning.”

"I don't have a boss, remember?" She chewed the inside of her cheek. "Besides, no one’s going to run with this unless I make them. I need to get in front of someone, force them to see it for what it is."

A chill knifed through my spine, tightening around my ribs like a steel vice. The air felt heavier, suffocating, as if the walls ofthe motel room had closed in an inch. “You want to walk into an office full of people who could be compromised?”

"It was your idea to go to Whitney." She tilted her head. “Do you have a better plan?”

I ran through every alternative, every possible workaround. Bribery, blackmail, disappearing into the shadows, and waiting for the right moment.

None of it held up.

Every scenario ended the same way—too risky, and no matter which angle I took, this was the only path forward. And that pissed me off more than anything.

"No."

She nodded, but her eyes lingered on mine. Then, she pulled away, refocusing on the laptop.

I stood and grabbed my jacket.

“Where are you going?” Her doe eyes peered up at me.

“Getting what we need to disappear after this goes public.” I turned back, hesitation flickering across her face. “I’ll be back.”

She nodded, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. I walked back to the bed, leaned down, resting my hands on the mattress near her. “You miss me that bad when I leave?”

A flush crept up her neck, turning her cheeks a fiery red. “Don’t.”

I shot her a knowing look. “Admit it.”

She looked away and I reached out, turning her chin toward me with the softest touch I could muster. "Admit it, sweetheart."

“Maybe.”

The honesty hit me harder than it should have. I held her gaze, my mouth moving closer to hers. “Maybe a part of me cares for you more than you realize.”

I stamped my mouth over hers before she could respond, drinking her in as though it'd be the last time, then straightened and headed for the door.

We had the ammunition to burn these bastards to the ground.

35

Ava

Atremor ghosted through my fingertips, hovering above the keyboard.

I’d finished?

It's done?

I stared at the screen, scanning the words one last time—every line more damning than the next, every paragraph a sentence of life for the public.

Knock-knock, knock, knock-knock.

The signature rhythm made my pulse quicken, grounding me in the routine of the past two weeks.

I pushed back from the desk, standing from the chair that, for once, didn't squeak with each bit of movement like the seven others had.

Small mercies.

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