Page 38 of His Stolen Bride

He shakes his head. “No one told me, Boss.”

“Then why did you do it?” I ask.

He breathes in hard, and the lie tries to climb out again.

I don’t let it. I gesture to the technician. “Pull his comms,” I say.

The technician brings up the comm log, and a message appears—short, and not encrypted the way it should be. It’s a plain directive. Clear post, keep her moving, don’t spook her.

The captain stares at it like he’s seeing it for the first time. I look at him. “That isn’t you?” I say. “That’s someone above you or beside you?”

His mouth works, and he can’t decide whether to admit or deny, and that indecision is enough.

Enzo comes back in and immediately understands from the room’s temperature what he’s walked into. I don’t speak to the captain again. I speak to Enzo. “Take him downstairs,” I say flatly, “and bring me the man who sent that message.”

The captain’s knees bend slightly, and he catches himself. He starts talking, and the words tumble, and he names a contact he shouldn’t have, and he says it was curiosity, and he says he didn’t think it would matter, and he says he never meant to hurt her.

Enzo takes him, and the door closes.

The technician keeps working, and my commander keeps swallowing, and nobody speaks until the next name appears on the access list tied to my code.

A name I recognize, because I recognized his loyalty once. “Bring him,” I say.

The second man arrives within the hour, and he arrives too composed, and that’s what gives him away. Men who aren’t guilty want to be understood, and men who are guilty want to look controlled.

I question him calmly and simply, giving him enough space to bury himself. He answers cleanly at first, then he slips, because he’s trying to keep track of two versions of his story at the same time.

He says he was on the outer road, but the camera shows he was inside. Then he tells me his device was misplaced, contrary to where the device log shows movement. He says he never accessed my authorization token, and the system shows his signature under the access point.

I let him finish, then I nod once. “Enzo,” I say.

Enzo steps forward.

The man’s eyes widen, and he starts to plead, and the pleading isn’t for mercy. It’s for time to let him build a new angle. “I didn’t shoot,” he says fast. “I didn’t fire the weapon, Boss, I swear.”

“I know,” I reply, and I watch his face break at the certainty.

He starts shaking then. Denial doesn’t work when the person across from you already knows which lie you chose. “Who paid you?” I ask.

His eyes flick to the side like he’s checking whether anyone in the room is his ally. No one moves.

“Who?” I repeat.

He swallows. “I didn’t take money.”

I take a breath. “Then you took fear,” I say.

His throat bobs and his eyes water, and he tries again. “I was told it was to scare her, Boss. I was told it would calm the outsiders down. I was told it would show you were still in control.”

I stare at him. “Outsiders,” I repeat. “Which outsiders?”

He shakes his head fast. “I don’t know, I never met them. It was a contact of a contact. It came as instructions.”

“Names?”

He gives one, and it’s a small name, and it’s a stupid name, and it tells me he’s trying to protect the real one.

I tilt my head slightly. “That’s not your real chain.”