Page 72 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

Sophie sets down the tablet and leans back slightly. “I need to get closer to each of them and build rapport. Look for inconsistencies between what they say and what the background checks reveal, maybe even get them to open up to me.”

“Phoebe shouldn’t be a problem,” Finn says, speaking for the first time, although he isn’t looking at any of us, just staring into his whiskey glass. “You’re already in the same office.”

“Exactly.” Sophie nods. “I’ve been working on her all week. She trusts me. It’s just a matter of deepening that trust until she lets something slip.”

“And Diana?” I ask.

Sophie turns to look at me. “That’s why my next rotation should be the research department. It gives me a legitimate reason to spend time with her without raising suspicion.”

“I’ll introduce you to the team myself,” I say.

“As for Victor...” Max trails off, frowning. “It makes no sense for a personal assistant to do a rotation in the security team. Nobody would buy it.”

“No,” Sophie agrees. “I can’t come up with a plausible excuse to suddenly start spending time with security personnel.” She pauses, her expression thoughtful. “But I’m sure I’ll find another way to get close to him.”

The moment the words leave her mouth, Finn’s hand clenches around his whiskey glass, his knuckles going white. Max goes rigid, a muscle ticking in his jaw. And my stomach does that strange, twisting thing it does when something is wrong but I can’t quite figure out what.

Another way to get close to him.

She means seduction. It has to be seduction. That’s what she does, isn’t it? Get close to targets, make them trust her, extract information through whatever means necessary.

The thought of Sophie doing that with Victor—with anyone—makes something dark and uncomfortable coil in my chest.

But if Sophie notices the shift in the room, she doesn’t show it. She’s already moved on, scrolling through her tablet, reviewing her notes from the week.

“I’ve also been observing the general dynamics in the marketing department,” she continues. “Celine has been invaluable—she knows everyone, hears everything. Through her, I’ve learned that Phoebe has been distracted lately. Coming in late, leaving early, taking long lunch breaks. Celine thinks it’s relationship trouble, but it could be something else.”

None of us respond. She keeps going.

“Fabian Monroe in IT has been logging extra hours, but that could be legitimate—they’ve been upgrading the server infrastructure.” She scrolls through more notes. “Angela in marketing had a family emergency yesterday. Her mother is ill.”

She glances at Finn as she says this, and for the first time since she arrived, Finn looks up at her—but then quickly looks away again.

“Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary. People seem happy. Loyal.” She sets down the tablet. “Which makes my job harder. Whoever the mole is, they’re good at hiding it.”

“Or they’re someone we’d never suspect,” I murmur.

“That’s usually how it works.”

Silence settles over the room, the only sound the fire crackling in the hearth.

Sophie stands abruptly, smoothing her pants with one hand.

“Can you show me the security room?” she asks. “The one with all the camera feeds. I want to check the coverage, find any blind spots, before someone tries again.”

“Of course.” I rise from the couch. “Follow me.”

Max stands as well. “I’ll join you.”

Finn doesn’t move from the couch. He just raises his whiskey glass in a vague gesture. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

I lead them out of the living room and down the hall toward the back of the house. The security room is tucked away in a corner of the ground floor.

“This way,” I say, pushing open the door.

The room is spacious, designed to accommodate multiple people working simultaneously. One wall is dominated by a bank of monitors—twelve screens arranged in a grid, each one capable of displaying feeds from any camera in the Synthera complex. A long desk sits beneath them, cluttered with keyboards and control panels.

Sophie steps inside, her eyes immediately going to the monitors.