Page 220 of Override

The words leave my mouth so softly I'm not entirely sure anyone hears them. Everyone does. Silence settles over the room.

My father turns toward Keaton. "I'll send men with you."

It isn't a request. It's a father trying to make up for months of not knowing his daughter needed protecting in the first place.

Keaton nods once. "I understand." My father waits. "I won't ask you not to." The words surprise me. "So long as they understand one thing."

My father's expression hardens almost imperceptibly. "And what's that?"

Keaton's voice never changes. "If Maeve comes with me, she decides where she goes." The room goes quiet again. "I won't have anyone following her." His eyes remain locked on my father's. "I won't have anyone reporting where she is, who she's with, or when she comes home." The words aren't disrespectful. They're matter-of-fact. Almost...operational. "She has spent months being watched."

His gaze flicks toward me for the briefest second before returning to my father. "I'm not replacing one surveillance system with another."

My father studies him.

A long moment passes before Keaton speaks again. "I understand why you want to protect your daughter." There's no challenge in his voice. Only understanding. "I would expect nothing less." Another pause. "But protection and control aren't the same thing."

The room is perfectly still.

"I'll protect her." He says it with the same certainty he'd used while explaining surveillance logs and phone records. Not as a promise. As a fact. "And I'll make sure Grayline does the same." Then he adds, almost as an afterthought, "But she decides where she goes."

I realize everyone is looking at me again. Waiting for me to choose.

I swallow. "I'm okay with Grayline." I look at my father. "I don't want anyone else following me." The admission feels strangely freeing. "I know you'll worry." His shoulders drop just enough for me to notice.

"But..." I glance toward Keaton. "...I'll be safe."

Chapter 48

Keaton (Skee)

The city blurs across the windshield as I merge onto the interstate. Maeve hasn't spoken since we left her parents' house. I don't ask her to. Silence isn't uncomfortable.

Not for either of us. The GPS says twenty-three minutes to my apartment.

Twenty-three minutes for my brain to stop replaying the conversation in Cormac's office.

It doesn't.

Matt had closed the file and looked directly at Cormac. "I don't believe Ronan Gallagher ever intended to dismantle your organization."

Cormac had frowned. "Then what the hell did he want?"

"The life." Matt slid another folder across the desk. "We've been peeling back his finances for weeks." Cormac opened it. "Everything he projected was manufactured."

"The companies?"

"Mostly shell corporations."

"The investments?"

"Leveraged."

"The real estate?"

"Owned by holding groups connected to rival donors." Matt had paused. "On paper, Ronan Gallagher looked wealthy enough to stand beside your daughter." Another pause. "In reality..."

"He owned almost nothing." I remember Cormac leaning back in his chair.