"So she's been quiet lately?" Leo asked, a faint edge of surprise slipping into his voice as he looked at the girl sitting across from him.
Freya.
Or rather, the spy he had planted beside Alexa.
She sat straight, hands folded on her lap, eyes lowered in the way of someone who had learned to make herself small. Leo remembered clearly how he had found her—working under Alexa, taking every insult and quiet cruelty without complaint, enduring it all because she needed money for her mother's treatment. When his men sent him the report, he hadn't hesitated. He paid for everything her mother needed, every hospital bill, every medicine, and in return, Freya became his eyes and ears. She was timid, careful, the kind of person no one ever suspected. That was exactly why she was perfect.
And so far, she had done her job well.
