Page 76 of You, Only You

Then I saw Reeves in person again, and everything changed.

It was a pre-trial hearing. Everyone was doing the routine motions, scheduling logistics, the dry procedural business that precedes every major case. I'd expected it to be boring. I hadn't expected him to walk in like he owned the building.

He arrived with four lawyers in matching charcoal suits, all of them moving with the synchronized confidence of men who believed justice was negotiable. Reeves himself was smaller than I remembered; average height, trim build, silver hair swept back from a face that belonged on a country club brochure. He looked like someone's distinguished grandfather.

Then his eyes found mine.

He looked at me like I was a rounding error he'd correct in next quarter's budget.

My lungs forgot how to work. I felt Will go rigid beside me, his entire body coiling with suppressed fury. Under the table, his hand found mine, grip almost painful.

"Breathe," he murmured, barely audible.

I couldn't respond. Couldn't look away from Reeves, who had already turned to whisper something to his lead attorney. They both smiled at whatever he said, a private joke between men who'd never worried about consequences.

This was the man who'd sent people to destroy my life. Who'd ordered to have my apartment violated. Who ran a trafficking operation like a supply chain optimization project. And he was sitting in a federal courtroom looking mildly inconvenienced by the whole affair.

"I'm going to destroy him," I said under my breath.

Will's grip tightened. "We both are."

That night, the warmth between us had a new edge. Not passion, but determination. We'd seen the face of the enemy, and he'd looked exactly like a man who believed himself untouchable.

Tomorrow, we'd start proving him wrong.

The first day of trial was chaos barely contained by procedure. Reporters packed the hallway outside the courtroom. Sketch artists claimed the best angles. The families of victims filled the back rows, their faces a mixture of hope and exhaustion that made my chest ache.

I was the prosecution's first witness. Hours on the stand, walking the jury through shell companies and wire transfers and the meticulous paper trail that connected Victor Reeves to human trafficking. The defense came hard; they pushed on about my father, my relationship with Will, my supposedly compromised objectivity, and I held my ground the way Chen had taught me.

Redirect. Pivot. Make it about the numbers.

Through it all, I felt Will watching me from the gallery. His attention was a physical weight, intense and unwavering. It should have been comforting.

It wasn't.

I noticed the signs throughout the day, small things that separately meant nothing but together formed a pattern I recognized too well. The way he positioned himself with a clear sightline to every exit. The way he checked his phone obsessively, not for messages but for something else. The way his eyes tracked every person who came within ten feet of me.

During the lunch recess, Bates approached us in the hallway.

"Security detail's in position," he said, his tone businesslike. "Standard protocol for high-profile witnesses."

"I want an additional agent on Lindsey." Will's voice was clipped. "Full-time. Rotating shifts."

Bates glanced at me, then back at Will. "The existing detail is more than sufficient. We're inside a federal courthouse."

"I don't care. Make it happen."

He didn't ask me. Didn't even look at me. Just decided.

Later, as we were leaving for the day, "I'll take the black SUV. You go with Agent Miller in the sedan. Different routes back to the penthouse."

Another decision. Another command issued without consultation.

I held my tongue. We were in public, surrounded by reporters, not the place for this conversation. But the pattern was screaming at me now, impossible to ignore.

Back at the penthouse, the silence was thick. Will paced the living room like a caged predator while I removed my blazer and poured two glasses of water. He took his without acknowledgment, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"You're doing it again," I said.