His smile fades. “I’m not lying.”
My mouth opens to argue, but he holds up both hands.
“Not entirely,” he amends. “I work with high-net-worth clients. Privacy is everything. The alias protects them.”
I blink. “You’re serious?”
“People like discretion more than dividends. My clients can’t have their names tied to certain deals—lawsuits, regulators, rivals. So we use aliases. Trusts. Shell corps. It keeps them off the radar. Think of it like a celebrity checking into a hotel under an alias. Same principle.” He shrugs. “My alias allows me to manage their finances with anonymity.”
I stare at him, processing. And the thing is... it tracks. I’ve seen plenty of contracts come through Edmond’s office with third-party names on them. Half the properties he owns were bought under holding companies. This, I learned, is how the rich protect themselves.
Ben steps forward, his chin dipping so he’s looking directly into my eyes. “Cybil, I know this seems like an unusual request, but it’s imperative to my job and to my clients that you use my alias.” His voice lowers. “Craig Milleris the wall between me and the kind of people who would do anything to protect their assets.”
It sounds like a warning. And suddenly, I don’t know whether to believe him... or report him. For the first time, I wonder if Ben isin deeper than I thought. Not just with Mr. Ramirez, but with the kind of people Athena watches—criminals who use their wealth like camouflage.
It leaves me unsettled. I want to warn him. But I don’t. Because I can’t. Because if I do, I risk everything—my mission, my paycheck, and the small chance I still have at law school.
He’s looking at me like he can read the hesitation on my face, and I hate that. Hate that he still knows how to press every emotional pressure point like it’s muscle memory. Hate that a single glance from him has me doubting every line I’ve drawn between right and necessary.
Then—like a switch—he smirks and adjusts his tie in the mirror. The return of that smug grin is both wildly annoying and unfairly attractive.
“Besides,Billy girl, you wouldn’t want me to lose my job. I’m the one handling the finances of the deal between your boss and Mr. Ramirez.”
My jaw drops. “Did you seriously just—”
Maybe it’s the arrogance. Maybe it’s the fact that he used the worst nickname known to mankind, gifted to me by him and Rex one unfortunate summer. Either way, I swallow down my warning and force my expression back to neutral.
There’s a line being drawn that only I can see. On one side? Ben handling the finances for the deal is the exact kind of intel Athena needs. It’s why I took this job. Why I agreed to spy. Why I can’t afford to quit until I can drag myself out of debt and into law school.
But on the other side?
It’s Ben. And I don’t know if he’s just the wrong guy, hired at the wrong time by the wrong people, or if there’s something more to his involvement. Something criminal.
The idea makes my chest tighten. Hesoundslike he’s just doing his job, but there’s something too polished about his explanation. Too smooth about the way he waltzed into the meeting last night. I’ve seen men lie before—seen how easily truth slips into fiction when money’s on the table.
If I blow the whistle too early, I could ruin his career for no reason. But if I don’t, and heisinvolved, then I’m giving him a front-row seat to a crime that will have his name all over it.
So maybe for now, I don’t move. Maybe I just watch. Take notes. Send Athena what I can. And if it gets too risky... I’ll warn him. Somehow. But until then, I’ll play along.
Because I need this paycheck. And maybe—just maybe—I need to know who Ben Bradley really is and why after all these years, and against every ounce of logic, my heart is doing that ridiculous, traitorous skip when he’s near me.
“It’ll be like old times,” Ben says, stepping into my line of sight again. “You and me, hanging out. Playing games.”
Something sparks behind my ribs. Something I don’t like.
“WhyCraig?”
He pauses, surprised. “What?”
“Why use the name Craig Miller?”
His smile returns, full wattage this time. He shrugs. “It’s a forgettable name for a forgettable guy.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “Really? All these years and you’re using the name of my high school ex-boyfriend. Seems like the only one who hasn’t forgotten about him is you.”
Ben’s eyes light with a fire, and before I’m drawn to it, I brush past him, hand on the door. “Let me check the hallway. Make sure no one sees you walking out of the women’s restroom.”
I’m halfway out when he calls softly, “Cybil.”
