The rain had finally slowed to a miserable drizzle, but the atmosphere at Pier 44 had turned from a battlefield into a cage.
Alexander still had his arm wrapped around Elara's waist, his body heat the only thing keeping her from shivering in the damp night air. They were staring at the man in the charcoal suit who had just stepped out of the black sedan. He wasn't a mercenary, and he didn't have a gun, but the gold-embossed badge he held up glinted with a far more dangerous kind of power.
"Agent Miller, Federal Audit Bureau," the man said, his voice flat and devoid of the drama that usually followed the Cross family. "Mr. Cross, Mrs. Cross. I'd say it's a pleasure, but I'm sure your lawyers would advise me otherwise."
Alexander's grip on Elara tightened. The lethal predator was back, his eyes narrowing as he stepped slightly in front of her. "It's nearly midnight, Miller. Unless you have a warrant signed by a high court judge, you're trespassing on a crime scene."
"I don't need a warrant to discuss a voluntary disclosure," Miller replied, leaning against the door of his car. He looked past Alexander, his gaze landing squarely on Elara. "We've been tracking the Vance Corporation's offshore movements for months. But it's the recent transfer—the twenty percent share discrepancy from the Cross family tribunal—that flagged our system. It looks like grand-scale market manipulation. Or, as we like to call it in the bureau, 'The Billionaire's Heist'."
Elara felt the blood drain from her face, but she forced her chin up. This was what Julian had hinted at—the hidden skeletons in the Vance accounts that she hadn't had time to clean out.
"The shares were legally acquired," Elara stated, her voice as sharp as glass.
"Legally acquired by a woman who married the man taking over the company," Miller countered with a thin, joyless smile. "From the outside, it looks like a coordinated hit to strip the Cross elders of their voting power. And the FAB hates a monopoly."
"Miller," Alexander growled, his voice a low, warning rumble. "Whatever you're fishing for, you won't find it here. My wife has had a long night. We're leaving."
"You can leave," Miller said, reaching back into his car to pull out a thick manila envelope. "But these subpoenas aren't going anywhere. We've frozen the Vance-Cross merger accounts pending a full forensic audit. As of five minutes ago, neither of you can move a single cent out of the country."
He tossed the envelope onto the wet pavement at Alexander's feet.
"I'll see you in the interrogation room on Monday. Try not to leave the city. It would look... erratic."
Miller got back into his car and sped off, the red tail lights disappearing into the fog.
The silence that followed was heavier than the rain. Elara looked down at the envelope. This was the one thing Alexander couldn't kick or shoot his way out of. The government didn't care about blood feuds or ghosts from Prague; they cared about ledgers.
"He's bluffing about the merger," Elara whispered, though she knew he wasn't. "If they freeze the accounts, the stock will plummet by morning. We'll lose everything we just fought for."
Alexander didn't look at the envelope. He was looking at her. He reached down, cupping her face with his large, warm hand, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"Let the stock fall," Alexander said fiercely. "I didn't marry you for the Vance shares, Elara. I married you. If the bureau wants a war over a ledger, I'll give them one. But they made one mistake."
"What's that?"
"They think you're my weakness," Alexander murmured, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. "They don't realize that a cornered queen is the most dangerous piece on the board."
Elara felt a spark of her old fire return. The federal government thought they could audit her life? They thought they could use Julian's old messes to chain her down?
She reached out, grabbing the lapels of Alexander's wet suit jacket.
"Monday is too late," Elara said, her eyes flashing with a lethal, icy resolve. "Liam, get us back to the penthouse. We aren't going to wait for an interrogation. We're going to find out who at the FAB Julian was talking to. Because Julian didn't have the brains to coordinate a federal audit on his own."
Alexander's lips curled into a dark, proud smirk. He picked her up effortlessly, carrying her toward the car.
"That's my girl," he whispered. "Let's go burn their paper trail to the ground."