Page 186

Facts mattered when they helped. Everything else became a misunderstanding, bad timing, or somebody else’s agenda.

Spencer always wanted to know how a story made him look.

Bane spent most of yesterday asking whether Haven House had been warned before reporters started calling.

That difference is enough to bring me back to the elevator.

Claire already has half the team around the conference table when I arrive, where screens show a rapidly growing spreadsheet of media requests, client questions, social posts, and articles.

Theo is standing near the wall with a coffee in one hand, reading an entertainment piece with the expression of a man planning several crimes and attempting to rank them by satisfaction.

Bane sits at the head of the table. His eyes go to my face, then my stomach, before returning.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, taking the chair beside his.

“I was going to say good morning.”

“Sure you were.”

Theo takes a drink of coffee. “I appreciate that we’ve reached the stage of the relationship where she can identify your medical interrogation before you begin.”

Bane looks at him. “You’re here voluntarily.”

“An error I’m reconsidering.”

Claire closes the conference room door before Theo can continue. “We’ve had another forty-three press requests since last night, and several reporters have started contacting current employees through personal accounts.”

I slide my phone toward her. “Lena sent these on my way in.”

Claire scans the screenshots and passes them to the woman beside her. “Add the names to the tracker.”

Bane’s jaw tightens. “What about clients?”

“Fourteen inquiries since yesterday afternoon. Most are asking whether the allegations affect contracts or company governance.”

“Any cancellations?”

“None.”

My attention shifts to the large screen behind Claire as another article joins the tracker, followed by one asking whether Wolf Shield deliberately targeted nonprofits because their boards offered access to wealthy executives.

One headline suggests Bane’s years of volunteering was a calculated attempt to reinvent himself after leaving Spencer.

I stare at the photograph beneath it.

Bane is carrying a box of camera equipment into a shelter in Ohio.

He’s younger, thinner, and wearing jeans with a tear across one knee. His head is turned away from the photographer, and whoever took the picture clearly wasn’t interested in him at the time.

The image probably sat unnoticed for years.

Now it’s evidence of whatever story somebody wants to attach to it.

Claire changes the screen. “We can issue the expanded company statement this morning. Legal approved the language last night.”

A document appears beside the tracker.

The statement explains that Wolf Shield’s earliest commercial opportunities came through legitimate referrals after Bane provided security work to nonprofit organizations, with documented investment funds and no financial exploitation of any shelter or client.