Page 2 of Defending What's Mine

Boone nods once. “I’ll take her to my cabin nearby. It’s remote, secure.”

Dean turns to me, a crimson folder in hand. Color means high-profile asset. “Asher, yours is… different.”

My pulse bumps, but I keep posture neutral. Another test, maybe.

He slides the file; the name on the tab reads CHARLOTTE LANE. “Her father hired us. You’ll pose as her fiancé during a week-long family retreat.”

I flip the cover. First photo: Charlotte in a designer cocktail dress, eyes downcast, sadness baked into the pixels. Something twists beneath my sternum.

Dean outlines the intel—arranged-marriage pressure from a business partner’s son, potential hostile takeover if the union happens. “Your cover relationship stops that before contracts hit ink.”

I nod, absorbing logistics: location, guest list, emergency exfil points.

Dean finishes the briefing with a sweep of his gaze. “I want everyone to know I’m here if you need anything..”

Chairs scrape. Ranger and Boone file out. I start to follow when Dean says, “Asher, hold up.”

I drop back into my seat. Door clicks shut behind the last man.

Dean folds his arms, expression softening a notch. “I chose you because you’re closest to Charlotte’s age. Optics matter. Don’t read hesitation into that.”

“I don’t.” And I don’t. Dean’s never handed me a job he thought I’d botch. “I’m in.”

“Good. Mr. Lane’s company can’t survive that merger. Keep her convinced, keep the family convinced, and keep anyone else from forcing her hand.”

“Understood.” We shake hands and step into the hallway.

Chaos meets us. Lincoln has Isabel pinned gently—but firmly—against the wall, murmuring something I can’t catch. Isabel looks one twitch from drawing blood.

Her gaze darts past Lincoln, locks on Dean. “And you—” she snaps, finger stabbing the air like a knife.

Not my arena. I sidestep, heading for the elevator before the family fireworks detonate.

With the file under my arm, my mission’s crystal-clear:

Infiltrate Lane retreat.

Sell the fiancé cover.

Make sure no one signs Charlotte’s life, or her father’s company, away.

Next stop: damsel in distress, pseudo-ring on her finger, and one big corporate shark tank. Exactly where I belong.

2

Charlotte

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