Page 96 of Their Arrangement

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Or maybe I was.

Barron began speaking—his voice low, direct, commanding.

He didn’t look at me.

Didn’t address me.

But every time he said words like control or ownership or pressure, I felt them settle in my gut like they weren’t part of a corporate conversation at all.

Wolfe never turned his head. But I felt his gaze sweep over me again every time I shifted.

Royal leaned in once, murmured under his breath:

“Bet you’re wet under all that elegance.”

I didn’t react.

I didn’t even blink.

But my thighs pressed together beneath the table, and I hated myself for how right he probably was.

Thirty minutes passed in quiet strategy talk.

I kept my eyes on the pages. Made notes when I could. Traced numbers I didn’t fully understand. Tried to stay small.

Until Barron stopped speaking mid-sentence.

His eyes shifted to the screen. Then to Loyal.

Then, finally, to me.

“There’s a flaw in this.”

Everyone paused.

Even Royal’s fingers stopped their lazy glide along the table beside my hand.

Wolfe’s head turned—slow and silent—to face me fully.

“You’ve been reading,” Barron said. “Say something useful.”

It wasn’t a question.

It was a command.

I swallowed.

Let the silence draw for a second longer.

Then I turned the page.

“Page six, third line. The listed supplier in Myanmar was exposed in a procurement scandal last year. The public fallout didn’t last long, but it was enough to tank their perceived legitimacy. We’ll be accused of compromising ethics if we don’t reroute the acquisition chain now.”

Silence.

Then Loyal said, quietly, “She’s right.”

Wolfe didn’t blink.

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