Damian's Pov
She didn't ask my permission. I noticed that first, before I noticed anything else about the message glowing on her phone screen — she typed where and when, alone like a woman closing a door in my face, gently, but closing it all the same.
I let her have it. That was rule four, technically, information instead of weakness, and I told myself agreeing to it was discipline instead of what it actually was, which was fear dressed up as respect.
I didn't tell her I had Farrow pull every scrap we had on Nadia Cross within the hour.
The file was thinner than it should have been for a woman who'd spent five years inside a criminal empire watching her sister's ghost. Public appearances, mostly, charity boards, a broken engagement to a shipping heir eighteen months ago, nothing that
