Blackridge Detention Facility
Two hours later
The cell was warm, and the lights were too bright for comfort. Not torture—not yet—but far from the luxury Misty Kilmer had grown used to.
She sat across the table, no makeup, no jewelry, her hair bound back by standard detainment bands. Her robe had been replaced with plain grey, and her expression was tight with fury and disbelief.
Caelan stepped into the room with the slow, quiet purpose of a man who was very much done pretending to be reasonable.
He didn't sit.
He placed a folder on the table in front of her with a slow move.
When Misty didn't speak, he opened it.
Photos. Reports. Scans. The original medical evaluations. Christian's lawsuit. Odin's contract. Lucas's sealed profile. A second copy of the original buyer clause—Faceless Agatha. All laid out in order, each page more damning than the last.
