Page 158 of Controlled Burn
She almost hurled the phone against the wall.
But no. That’s what they wanted. For her to break in private, so they could control her in public.
She set the phone down gently.
She could still feel the ghost of her voice from the clip, the memory of what it felt like to be that unguarded. She let herself breathe it in—let it become fuel.
A shadow fell across the desk.
She didn’t need to look up to know it was McKenna.
“He’s watching. Both of them are.”
Talia forced herself to meet her eyes. “Let them.”
McKenna tossed a folder down. Coffee sloshed out of the mug in her other hand, dark drops spattering the floor. “Jake’s quiet. But Brooks is sloppy. Tech flagged him again—he’s not hiding.”
Talia closed her eyes for a beat, let her anger simmer. “They think they’re clever.”
“They’re dangerous.”
“I’m worse.”
“That’s why you’re in this chair.”
“They want me to break. They want a reason to take me down. If I fail, I’m just another bitch who couldn’t hack it.”
McKenna’s eyes flashed with pride. “Every woman who rises gets called a bitch, a whore, or both. But if a man cracks under pressure, they call it stress or ambition. You know the game.”
“We don’t get to be average. We have to be perfect. But I’m done being perfect. I’m going to burn the whole fucking playbook.”
“Good.” McKenna leaned in, voice low, sharp as a blade. “Then let’s make it impossible for them to bury you.”
Talia nodded, rolling her shoulders, letting the new weight of command settle deeper into her bones.
“We don’t just survive. We set the fire.”
They didn’t want her to rise. They wanted her to burn.
Fine. She’d take them with her.
Kennedy
Kennedy sat on the back stairs, hoodie pulled over her head, knees drawn up, trembling in the thin pool of light from the exitsign. The rough concrete dug into her thighs. Her breath came ragged.
Twenty years old. Pastor’s daughter. Sunday school medals, perfect attendance. Scripture verses still taped to her mirror in pink marker.
Her mother had cried the day she left for the academy. Her father’s voice had been ice—You were meant to lead, not follow men into danger.She’d done it anyway.
And now she was here, breathless with shame.
Jake was the first man to make her feel wanted—really wanted. His hands, his mouth, his praise. But it was all laced with danger, with a hunger she didn’t know how to feed.
When he called her Talia, she thought her heart would split in two. The humiliation stuck in her chest like a blade.
She wiped her face, angry at the tears.
This won’t be the story they write about me. I won’t be a victim. I won’t be weak.
