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Chapter Fourteen - Maxim

She’s avoiding me. I notice it the morning after the study.

Davina takes her meals in her room instead of the small dining area where I’ve had the guards allow her to eat. She doesn’t ask questions about the security systems or the ongoing investigations. She doesn’t challenge the guards when they escort her through the halls or argue about the restrictions I’ve placed on her movements.

She doesn’t even look at me.

I tell myself it’s better this way. She needed distance after what happened between us, and I gave it to her. The silence is preferable to the alternative: another confrontation, another moment where I lose control and do something I can’t take back.

The silence bothers me more than it should.

It’s been three days since the study, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.

Now she won’t even meet my eyes.

I’m in a meeting with Kirill and two of our regional commanders when the conversation shifts to our ongoing security concerns. We’re reviewing the protocols for handling sensitive information, discussing ways to tighten our internal communications after the recent attacks.

“The woman,” Kirill says, glancing at a report. “We should discuss her status.”

I look at him. “What about her?”

“She’s been here longer than anticipated. The men are asking questions about when we plan to move forward.”

“We move forward when I say we move forward.”

Kirill nods, but he’s not finished. “There’s also the matter of the earlier discussions. Some of the men were talking about the original plan for her—using her skills while she’s here, then eliminating her when she’s no longer useful. That plan was abandoned days ago, but the conversation may have been overheard.”

My hand stills on the report I’m holding. “Overheard by whom?”

“By her, possibly. Two of our men were discussing it in the east wing office. She was seen in that area around the same time.”

The east wing. Three days ago. Right before she stopped speaking to me.

I set the report down carefully. “Find out which men were talking and remind them that operational security applies to all conversations within this estate.”

“Understood.” Kirill pauses. “Should I also clarify the current status of the plan?”

“No. I’ll handle it.”

The meeting continues, but I’m no longer paying attention. I’m thinking about Davina, about the way she looked at me in the study, about the way she’s been looking at me ever since.

She heard them. She heard my men talking about using her and disposing of her, and she thinks that’s still the plan. Maybe Davina thinks I fucked her, all as part of some calculated strategy to keep her compliant.

The thought makes something twist in my chest.

I’ve never explained myself to anyone. I don’t justify my decisions or apologize for my actions. I make choices based on what’s best for the organization, and I don’t waste time worrying about whether people understand or approve.

The idea that Davina thinks I used her sits in my gut like a stone.

I don’t like it.

With that in mind, I spend the rest of the day looking for her.

I’m not going to chase her through the halls like some lovesick fool, but I make a point of being in places she might be, like the main corridor during her permitted walking hours or the small library in the west wing.

She’s not in any of them.

Davina’s staying in her room, the guards tell me. Coming out only when necessary, speaking only when spoken to, keeping her head down and her mouth shut.