POV: Julian Cross
She flinched when he entered the room.
Not dramatically. Not with obvious fear. Just a small contraction of her body, a barely perceptible recoil, the involuntary response of someone learning to be terrified of proximity. Julian caught it in the kitchen on a Tuesday morning,he moved toward the coffee maker, and Iris's shoulders tightened. She turned away. Found something to do at the far end of the counter.
He understood the language of her body now. Understood that the locked door every night was a choice. That the flinching was reflex. That the distance was becoming more comfortable for her than closeness had ever been.
Victor appeared at his office door at 2 PM with the kind of expression that meant the surveillance had found something significant.
"She's been in the filing cabinet," Victor said without preamble. "Used a lockpick set purchased from a hardware store. Found the envelope."
Julian's entire body went rigid. "The envelope?"
