Ivan’s eyes dropped toward my hand.
For the first time since the barbecue began, he looked uncertain.
He knew about the camera.
He knew about the company records I could access.
He knew, somewhere beneath all his arrogance, that I had once understood Vanguard Development better than anyone.
What he did not know was how long I had been preparing to stop protecting him.
The patio remained completely still as I closed my injured fingers around the object in my pocket.
Cynthia took a small step toward me.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
I looked at Ivan.
He was no longer watching my face.
He was watching my apron pocket.
Then I wrapped my burned palm around the one thing he had never expected me
