Page 230 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

Hank curses under his breath but rises immediately. Gabe follows, his hand lingering on my shoulder.

“Emergency call,” Hank explains, already moving toward the door. “We’ll check in when we can.”

“Be careful,” I call after them, but they’re already gone.

They sprint toward the operations building, their movements fluid and purposeful. A knot forms in my stomach—tight and insistent.

“That didn’t look good.” Malikai appears at my side, coffee in hand.

“It wasn’t,” I confirm, unable to shake the foreboding crawling up my spine. My attention keeps returning to Mike and his assistants.

They’ve moved to the back of the machine, accessing components that shouldn’t need replacement. The clipboard assistant makes a note, then glances in my direction.

Our eyes meet, and he quickly looks away.

“Malikai,” I say quietly, “does something seem off about the repair crew?”

He studies them for a moment. “I’ve never seen those assistants before. And Mike usually works alone.”

Behind the counter, the younger assistant places somethinginside the machine—something small and metallic that doesn’t look like any espresso component I’ve ever seen.

I text Hank about the situation:Harrison says my father sent documents for my signature. Wants to meet at the condo at 7.

His response is quick:Plan on staying at HQ all night.

I text Harrison:Plans changed. Staying at Guardian HQ tonight. Can you bring the documents here instead?

Harrison responds quickly:I’ll meet you at Guardian Grind or Ms. Jenna’s apartment if that’s more convenient.

I look up to find Mike staring at me, the espresso machine now reassembled. His expression is unreadable as he wipes his hands on a rag.

“All set,” he tells Jenna. “Good as new.”

The younger assistant collects their tools while the older one hands Jenna a clipboard to sign. “Everything’s in working order now.”

I text Harrison back:At Guardian Grind now. Will be going to Jenna’s apartment later.

I tuck my phone away, trying to push down the growing sense of foreboding. Something isn’t right at Guardian HQ, but I can’t quite put my finger on what.

“You okay?” Malikai asks, studying my expression.

“Just on edge,” I admit. “Like everyone else today.”

Chapter 59

The warmthof Jenna’s apartment welcomes me after a long day. The smell of homemade pasta sauce and garlic bread makes my stomach rumble. Despite the heightened security at Guardian HQ and the obvious tension among the operatives, gathering for dinner and a movie seems profoundly normal—a pocket of peace in an increasingly uncertain world.

“Did you bring the wine?” Malia asks, taking the paper bag from my hands as I step inside. “Because after the week I’ve had, I’m going to need more than one glass.”

“Two bottles,” I confirm, shrugging off my jacket. “And chocolate. Lots of chocolate.”

Jenna’s apartment has been transformed from its usual pristine order into something cozier, with throw pillows scattered across the couches and blankets draped over chairs. The dining table is already set for eight, mismatched wine glasses lined up like soldiers preparing for duty.

“Ally,” Sophia calls from the kitchen, waving a sauce-covered spoon in greeting. “Come taste this and tell me if it needs more basil.”

I dodge Rebel, who’s arranging a frankly intimidating array ofsnacks on the coffee table, and make my way to Sophia. The sauce is rich and fragrant, clinging to the spoon she offers.

“Perfect,” I declare after tasting. “Though maybe a touch more salt?”

---