The question hung in the air, heavy and sharp.
Ryan forced his jaw to unclench. He kept his hands flat on the aluminum surface of the laptop. "You shouldn't bother yourself with that," he said, injecting a hard, dismissive edge into his tone. "Just focus on the API reroute and lock down the primary firewall."
Iralis didn't blink and didn't look down at her screen.
Instead, she stood up.
The movement was abrupt, lacking her usual calculated efficiency.
"Wait," Ryan said, his voice sharpening into a command. "What are you doing?"
Iralis ignored him. Her sensible, flat-soled shoes clicked against the charcoal carpet as she walked deliberately around the edge of the massive walnut desk.
Ryan's muscles locked tight. He couldn't pull his pants up without slamming his knees into Sophie's face. He was completely trapped, exposed in the center of his own glass fortress.
Iralis cleared the edge of the wooden modesty panel and stopped dead.
