Chapter 9 - The Dossier on the Counterpane
Roman did not speak immediately. He looked at Maeve, his gaze sweeping over her face, taking in the defiant flare of her nostrils, the tension in her jaw, and the subtle, betraying tremor in her lower lip that she was fighting so desperately to hide.
Slowly, deliberately, Roman reached out and placed the thick folder on the white sheet directly in front of her.
The heavy thud of the documents hitting the mattress sounded like a gunshot in the silent room.
Maeve’s eyes dropped to the folder.
Stenciled in bold, black typewriter ink across the center of the manila cover was her own name:
**CARTER, MAEVE ELIZABETH**
**CASE FILE: 409-B**
Beneath her name were three red stamps: *CONFIDENTIAL*, *HARBORLINE ASSETS*, and a third, older stamp that was partially obscured by a smudge of black ink.
Maeve slowly lifted her gaze from the folder back to Roman’s face.
Roman was watching her with an unnerving, clinical stillness. He had placed one large, heavy hand atop the folder, his gold signet ring pressing into the cardstock. His dark eyes held no malice, no triumph, only the absolute, terrifying certainty of a man holding all the cards in a game she hadn't realized she was playing.
Gabriel shifted against the doorframe, watching Maeve’s reaction with keen, analytical interest. He was looking for cracks, cataloging every micro-expression, reading her like an open ledger.
Declan remained rooted by the threshold, his arms folded tightly over his broad chest. His scowl had softened slightly, replaced by a dark, brooding curiosity. Even he seemed to be waiting to see how she would react under the crushing weight of the eldest brother's presence.
Maeve swallowed hard. The dry clicking sound in her throat seemed impossibly loud.
“What is this?” Maeve asked, her voice barely a whisper against the hum of the estate’s ventilation.
Roman leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into that deep, terrifyingly quiet register that commanded instant, unthinking obedience across an entire criminal empire.
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“Open it.”
***
