THE WOMAN HE HIRED

14

Ramsi moved to the table and set the shielded pouch down, unzipping it with practiced precision.

“Warehouse was a setup,” she said, tone calm, clipped. “Two shooters. Elevated positions. Trained, but sloppy. They weren’t there to win—just to pin us and see who showed.”

Sage swiveled in her chair. “So Hall was basically waving.”

“Yes,” Ramsi replied. “And he left tech behind.” She laid the devices out one by one. “Relays, scramblers, trackers disguised as sensors. Not wiped. He expected us to grab them.”

Tate leaned in, already interested. “Which means we get something back.”

“Exactly,” Ramsi said. “Movement logs, relay attempts. Maybe patterns.”

There was a beat of focused silence.

Then Sage’s eyes slid sideways to Enzo, who was calmly adjusting a security feed.

She squinted. “Hey. Question.”

Enzo didn’t look up. “No.”

Sage pointed at him anyway. “Dominic… is Enzo related to you?”

Dominic didn’t miss a beat. “Yes.”

Sage blinked. “Oh my god, really?”

“Brothers,” Dominic added calmly.

Sage stared at Enzo like she’d just solved a puzzle she hadn’t known was bothering her. “That explains everything.”

Enzo finally looked up. “If you’re about to insult me—”

“You alphabetized the snacks,” Sage said flatly. “That’s not tactical. That’s a cry for help.”

“That was efficiency,” Enzo replied.

“That was psychological warfare,” Sage shot back.

Ramsi shook her head, lips twitching despite herself, and refocused on the table. “Can we stay on task?”

Dominic glanced at her, faint amusement in his eyes before his expression reset. “Hall escalated. That means he’s testing boundaries.”

“And he’s obsessed,” Ramsi said quietly. “Which makes him predictable.”

Sage cracked her knuckles. “Great. I love predictable.”

Enzo crossed his arms. “I’ll tighten perimeter protocols.”

“Do it,” Dominic said.

Ramsi met Dominic’s gaze across the table—brief, steady, aligned.

The room settled again, banter fading into purpose.

Hall had made his move.

Now he’d learn exactly who he was dealing with.

The room settled into a working rhythm—screens lighting up, devices being connected, quiet movement layered with low conversation.

Ramsi leaned over the table, fingers flying as she began isolating data streams. Sage had already pulled up a secondary feed, chewing on a piece of contraband candy she’d absolutely stolen from Enzo’s reorganized stash.

Tate broke the silence, brow furrowed as something clicked into place.

“…Wait.”

Everyone looked up.

He pointed vaguely between Ramsi and Sage, then at Enzo. “Does that mean—” he paused, incredulous, “—you realize now that Enzo’s been hiring you two for years since your cover got blown?”

There was a beat.

Then Enzo slowly turned his head.

Ramsi didn’t look up. “Yes.”

Sage added cheerfully, “Surprise.”

Enzo stared at them, expression unreadable. “You’re telling me the independent contractors I’ve used across three continents—”

“Four,” Sage corrected.

“—were you?” Enzo finished.

Ramsi finally glanced up. “Under aliases. Rotating. Clean. You never asked questions.”

“Because you delivered,” Enzo said slowly.

Dominic leaned back against the table, arms crossed, watching his brother with faint amusement. “You always said they were your best assets.”

Enzo exhaled through his nose. “I thought you were a team. Not—” he gestured between them, “—legends.”

Sage grinned. “We prefer ‘problem solvers.’”

Tate let out a low laugh. “That’s… actually kind of brilliant.”

Enzo shook his head once, a reluctant smirk tugging at his mouth. “You know how many background checks I ran trying to figure out who you really were?”

Ramsi returned to her screen. “And you never found us.”

“No,” Enzo admitted. “Which irritated me.”

Dominic’s gaze flicked to Ramsi, something approving and curious in his eyes. “Seems my brother has excellent instincts.”

Sage leaned back in her chair. “He does. Terrible snack management, though.”

Enzo sighed. “I regret everything.”

Ramsi’s screen pinged softly.

She straightened, focus snapping back in. “Alright. Hall’s tech just gave us something.”

The banter evaporated instantly.

Whatever realization had just landed, it took a backseat to what mattered most.

Because Hall was still out there.

And now?

Everyone in the room knew exactly who they were working with.

Sage leaned back in her chair and groaned theatrically.

“I can’t do this anymore. I need actual food. Not snacks. Not whatever Enzo considers nutritionally acceptable.”

As if summoned by fate, her stomach growled—loud, unmistakable, echoing just enough for everyone to hear it.

There was a beat of silence.

Then Ramsi laughed—soft, genuine, the sound cutting through the tension. “I think you’re getting hangry.”

Tate snorted. “That explains the murder plotting.”

Sage pointed at him. “Do not mock the hunger. It makes me reckless.”

Enzo glanced at the clock. “We can pause for food. Fifteen minutes.”

Sage’s eyes lit up. “See? He does care.”

Dominic shook his head slightly, amusement flickering across his face. “Order something. No one’s thinking clearly like this.”

Ramsi closed her laptop, still smiling faintly. “Fine. Food break. But we eat and we’re right back to work.”

Sage was already pulling out her phone. “Bless you. I want pasta. Or a burger. Or both.”

Dominic glanced at Ramsi. “You?”

She considered for a moment. “Something warm. And coffee.”

“Of course,” he said.

As orders started flying and tension eased just enough to breathe, the room shifted again—not careless, not relaxed—but human.

Outside, Hall was still hiding.

Inside, the team regrouped—fed, focused, and very much ready for what came next.