Page 71 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

It looks like a comfortable, lived-in home.

“Not what you expected?” I ask, watching her take it all in.

She glances at me. “It’s nice. Comfortable.”

“We like it.” I shrug. “We all just wanted somewhere that actually felt like home.”

She doesn’t respond to that, but her gaze lingers on the photos above the fireplace. My mother, in most of them. Finn as a boy, grinning in the middle of the big family he’s the youngest of. Me at eight, all gap teeth and cowlick. The three of us at graduation, young and hopeful, with no idea what the future would hold.

“Have a seat,” Max says simply, gesturing toward the couch opposite Finn.

Sophie settles onto the couch, straight-backed, hands folded in her lap, like she’s bracing for a job interview.

“Can we get you anything?” I ask. “Coffee? Tea?”

“Water would be fine,” she says.

I head for the kitchen, grateful for the excuse to move. Something about watching Sophie in our home, the place we retreat to when we need to be ourselves, feels strange. Intimate, in a way. She’s getting a glimpse into our lives outside the office, a side of us very few people ever see.

When I return with the glass of water, she already has her tablet out, scrolling through the screen.

I hand her the water and settle onto the opposite end of the couch. Max and Finn are on the couch across from us, Max leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, Finn slouched back with his whiskey.

“I received the background check reports from Sentinel yesterday,” Sophie begins. “I’ve had a chance to review them thoroughly.”

She taps her tablet, pulling up a document.

“For the most part, your employees are clean. Solid work histories, stable finances, no red flags in their personal lives.” She scrolls through the list. “However, three individuals have been flagged for closer attention.”

She turns the tablet so we can see the screen. Three personnel files, arranged side by side.

“First, Phoebe Brandt. Marketing coordinator. She’s been with the company for three years.” She pauses. “The background check revealed significant debt. Student loans, credit cards, a personal loan she took out eight months ago. She’s been paying the minimum on everything, barely keeping her head above water.”

I lean forward to study Phoebe’s file. I’ve met her a few times—bright, eager, always the first to volunteer for extra projects. It’s hard to imagine her as a corporate spy.

But then, that’s probably the point.

“Second we have Victor Hartman, part of the security team.” Sophie swipes to the next file. “Ten years with the company and he has an impeccable record. But Declan flagged some irregularities in his recent communications. He’s been sending encrypted messages to an unknown recipient from his work device during work hours. It could be nothing, maybe a private relationship he wants to keep quiet. I can’t imagine someone working in security would be careless enough to use their work device to do shady stuff... but then again, who knows.”

Max’s expression hardens. “Victor has been with us since the beginning. He even helped design our security protocols.”

“Which means he knows exactly how to circumvent them,” Sophie says flatly. “Look, I’m not saying he’s guilty. I’m just saying he warrants closer scrutiny.”

The third file appears on screen. She has dark hair, sharp features, and very intense eyes. I recognize her instantly.

“Diana Quinn, part of the research team. She joined Synthera eighteen months ago, recruited directly from a competitor.” Sophie pauses. “I’ve heard that her work has been exemplary. But she has access to sensitive areas of the building, and her previous employer, Helix Pharmaceuticals, has a history of aggressive corporate espionage.”

“Diana’s brilliant,” I say, frowning. “Her work on the hormone regulation project has been groundbreaking.”

“Brilliant people can still be compromised.” Sophie meets my eyes steadily. “Everyone wants something. The trick is finding out what.”

The room falls silent. I stare at the three faces on the screen. These are people I know, ones I would never have suspected of betrayal.

But someone did betray us. Someone let the intruder in, or came through that window themselves, and nearly destroyed years of research. And that someone is still here, pretending to be loyal.

The thought makes my stomach turn.

“So what are the next steps?” Max asks, his voice tight.