GREGORY'S POV....
I hung up.
Zack's voice is still in my head. _You looked at her like she was the first real thing you'd seen since your mom's funeral._
I deleted the call log.
He bought her a house. A phone. Put her on payroll. All because I said three words at 5:43am: _Make sure she's safe._
He took that and ran. Typical Zack.
I'm not thanking him. I'm not firing him. I'm doing what I always do: contain it.
Twenty feet to my office. I walk it like it's a boardroom. Shoulders back. Face empty. Heart rate 62 bpm. Controlled.
She's still in there.
I open the door.
She's at the window. Back to me. Like she owns the view. Like she's not a trespasser in a building she has no right to be in.
The handkerchief is on my desk. Clean. Folded. G.R.H. mocking me.
Next to it, the phone. New. Zack's doing. Passcode 0406. He told me. I didn't ask.
She turns.
Same eyes. Bright. Tiny. Doesn't drop them when I look at her. Most people do.
"Zack explained," I say. My voice is flat. Boardroom voice. "The house. The phone. Payroll."
She doesn't flinch. "So you know."
"I know."
I walk to my desk. Not to her. To the chair she was in. I don't sit. I stand behind it. Put my hands on the back. Leather. Cold.
"You're not supposed to be here," I tell her.
"I'm aware."
"You're not staff."
"The email said—"
"The email is wrong," I cut her off. "Zack overstepped. It will be corrected."
Her jaw sets. There it is. The fire from Panther Way. Good. Let her be mad. Mad is easier than anything else.
"So what?" she says. "You're kicking me out? Taking the house back?"
No.
Yes.
I should. Hale would. Liability. Optics. The board would have my head if they knew I had a Jane Doe from Panther Way on company payroll.
But I look at her. Jeans. Cheap shirt. No shoes — she took them off at the door. Bare feet on my floor.
And I remember 5:43am. Her, asleep. My coat over her blanket.
I bury it.
"The house is… inefficient," I say. Cold. Corporate. "But unwinding it would draw attention. So it stands. For now."
She blinks. Didn't expect that.
"Zack will send you documentation," I continue. "You'll be listed as an external contractor. Remote. You will not come to this building again without clearance."
Her hands curl into fists. "So I'm fired before I start."
"You were never hired," I say. "Zack made a mistake. I'm fixing it."
"By making me a contractor for a job that doesn't exist."
"Correct."
Silence. She's breathing hard. Not crying. She doesn't cry. I knew that at the fire.
"You said my name," she says suddenly.
I did. Before the call. _Tinsel._
Slip. Weakness.
"I was confirming your identity," I say. Lie. Smooth. Easy. "Standard protocol."
She stares at me. Like she's trying to see through Hale. She can't. No one can.
"Right," she says. "Protocol."
I picked up the handkerchief. Hold it. Look at G.R.H.
"You'll return this," I tell her. "And the phone stays with you. Company property. Zack will track it."
"Track it," she repeats.
"For security."
"Of course."
I set the handkerchief down. Don't hand it to her. Don't touch her.
"You'll report to Zack," I say. "Starting tomorrow. 9am. Remote. He'll give you tasks."
"Tasks," she says. Like the word tastes bad.
"Don't be late."
I walk around the desk. Sit down. Open my laptop. Screen lights up. Emails. Numbers. Things that make sense.
Dismissed.
She doesn't move for five seconds. Then she walks to the desk. Picks up the handkerchief. Doesn't look at me.
"Got it," she says. "Boss."
She spits the word.
Good.
She leaves. Door shuts quiet. No slam. She has more control than I gave her credit for.
I waited ten seconds. Then I close the laptop.
The office is empty.
I looked at the chair she was in. Then at the visitor chair I sat in the last chapter — the one I'm not admitting existed.
Don't screw it up._Zack's words.
I am screwing it up. On purpose.
Because if I'm cold, she'll hate me. If she hates me, she'll stay away. If she stays away, she's safe.
That's the logic.
It's Hale logic. Clean. Efficient. Bullshit.
Because my hands are still in fists under the desk. Because 0406 is burned into my brain now. Because she walked out barefoot and I didn't stop her.
I open the laptop again.
New email. To Zack. One line:
Double her security detail. Don't tell her.
Send.
Then I delete it.
Hale doesn't care.
Greg can't.
So no one knows.