Page 39 of Fractured Allegiance

---

“He doesn’t blink,” I say finally. “That’s enough.”

Dom smiles. Cold. “Keep watching.”

I do.

But I also feel the shift. The men grow agitated. One flinches at the wrong name. Another corrects him with too much speed.

This isn’t a negotiation.

It’s an extraction.

Dom’s pulling something. Silas is logging everything.

And me?

I’m the pressure.

The woman in the chair who doesn’t speak but somehow still forces the truth to the surface.

The man in the navy suit finally breaks, parroting something about timelines. About supply routes. Something that doesn’t match the last thing he said.

Silas straightens just slightly.

Dom tilts his head.

And I look at the man like he’s already made himself obsolete.

The deal closes minutes later.

Or appears to.

Dom’s voice stays smooth. The man signs. His pen slips just enough to show his hand’s gone damp. He sets it down like it’s a weapon that failed him.

He never looks at me.

Smart man.

Dom thanks them. Offers nothing more.

The men leave, and so does Silas.

Dom and I stay.

He pours himself a drink. Doesn’t offer me one.

“You’re on point tonight,” he says.

“No leash today,” I reply.

A lie, but a good one.

He doesn’t argue.

“I need you again tomorrow,” he says. “Early. Before the meeting with Esco. There’s a prep brief on my desk.”

“I’m not your assistant, Dom.”

He raises a brow. “No. You’re my leverage.” The words find their mark—steady, honest, and uncomfortably true.

---