Page 9 of Theirs to Hunt

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Mental note: let creepy Jeff in marketing corner me in the elevator soon. He always knows what’s going on, even if I have to carry a manila folder as boob armor to survive the leering. If anyone knows what happened to Genevieve, it’ll be him. And if not… maybe they’ll tell me.

Even as I hung up, the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up.

I text Bobbie right away:

Okay, step one complete.

Also? Genevieve’s actually gone. HR said she’s no longer with the company.

Wait, what? Like gone gone?

Yeah. That “heading back to Cali” post might not be BS.

But still feels off.

I don’t like that.

Me either.

Okay… I get off work in about three hours. I’ll be there then.

DON’T ANSWER THE DOOR FOR ANYONE.

Chapter ten

Grayson, Monday 07:33 a.m.

My little fawn has called out sick.

I had planned an impromptu customer service meeting today. Purely a formality. Just enough to see her again.

Not happening, it seems.

I lean back in my chair, one hand resting against my jaw, eyes drifting toward the window.

She’s rattled, as expected. But not broken. Not yet.

Good.

I pick up the phone and dial.

“Brooks.”

“She’s staying home. I want you near her apartment. Don’t engage. Observe only.”

There’s a pause. I can hear him breathing.

“Stay close,” I add. “In case she runs.”

I end the call. This part of the game requires patience. She ran. Now she needs to believe she’s safe again. That’s when she’ll be most vulnerable.

I set the phone down and swipe open the latest security audit on my tablet. Everything looks clean. Numbers aligned. Reports airtight.

But I’ve built this company from the ground up. I know when something’s off.

Someone has been moving under the surface. Slipping through our security and systems. Careful. Quiet. Hidden in plain sight.

Now that Brooks is out of the Navy and with me full time, we’ll find it. Whatever it is.

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