Great. As if I didn't have enough problems, now that Meridian thing was in that list, too. Yay. But, one problem at a time. Delilah. I needed to see how she was doing and, well, what she said after I left the penthouse.

With an exhale, I opened the door and stepped inside. Jasmine was sitting at the dinner table, Tessa next to her, both on their laptops, screens glowing in the dim room.

"H-hey," I said, taking a deep breath. "I'm back from work. Where is everyone?"

Jasmine looked up. "Nala's taking a shower. Kim's napping."

"Got it," I said. "Where's… Delilah?"

"Back at her apartment," Jasmine said. "Nala dropped her off. I didn't even know the company gave her a damn car, Evan. If we start working there, do we get one too?"

"Jeez, I don't know," I said, walking closer. "I don't care about the car right now, Jasmine. How was Delilah? Last time I saw her, she was crying on the chair you're sitting on right now."

"She was fine," Tessa replied, still staring at her screen. "Asked us a bunch of questions. Like if we were with you, why that, why this."

"Anchor," I said, nodding as I looked out the window. "That… was really nice. Thank you, girls."

"Hey," Jasmine nudged Tessa. "Maybe we really do glaze his ego like Delilah said, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm starting to think that too," Tessa muttered, hiding a grin.

"Ah, come on," I said. "I'm just happy that you guys see me like that."

"Don't get all mushy now," Jasmine said. "And stop bothering us, please. We're working. Nala's homework. It sucks."

"Well, don't let me interrupt you," I said, then turned and headed for the master bedroom.

I shut the door, peeled off my shirt, and sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing my phone. Right. Whatever this Meridian project was, I needed to know what the hell it actually was—and what I was up against.

A quick search later, I frowned. Meridian Technologies. A cybersecurity firm TechForge had acquired two years ago. They'd built something called the Sentinel Framework, AI-based defense software meant to detect and neutralize large-scale cyberattacks before they even started. It was supposed to be the company's golden goose—military-grade predictive security for government networks.

Only problem? The article I found mentioned a quiet investigation by the Digital Ethics Commission. Allegations that Meridian's data models had been trained using illegally harvested personal information from government servers. That they'd broken into restricted archives to feed their AI, copying classified data to make the system smarter.

I leaned back on the bed, rubbing my eyes. Of course. That was what Sarah meant. TechForge's "crown jewel" wasn't clean.

I scrolled further—Meridian was still active, now fully absorbed under TechForge's R&D division. Nala's signature was on every official document. She'd been VP of Strategy at the time.

The pieces fit too well.

If Guy really had blackmailed her into signing off on that deal, the entire project was a ticking bomb. If the wrong people found out, it wouldn't just destroy Nala—it'd drag down everyone tied to TechForge.

"Perfect," I muttered, tossing the phone on the bed. "Just what I needed."

For a moment, I just sat there, staring at the ceiling, the faint hum of the city filtering through the glass. I thought of Nala's calm voice, the way she looked when she pretended not to be scared.

And I realized Sarah wasn't bluffing.

Whatever Meridian was hiding, it was bad. Real bad.

I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the carpet like it owed me money. Things were… rough.

The bedroom door opened. Nala stepped in with nothing but a towel knotted above her tits, water still dripping from her hair. "Sorry," she whispered, cheeks pink, "I didn't know you were home."

I didn't answer.

Nala padded to the dresser. She let the towel fall. It pooled at her feet and she stood naked for a second, droplets sliding down the curve of her spine, over the swell of her ass, and off the soft lips between her thighs. She picked up a black lace thong, stepped in slow, bent forward so the string snapped tight against her skin.

Next came the matching bra; she slid her arms through, lifted each heavy breast into the cups, and hooked it between them so her nipples poked stiff against the lace.

A loose white button-down followed, top three buttons open, the bra peeking out every time she breathed. Last, tiny cotton sleep shorts that hugged her hips and barely covered the bottom curve of her ass. When she was done, she sat at the edge of the bed to comb through her hair. We were only at arm's length.

She turned, hair damp, and caught me staring. "You okay?" she asked.

"No," I said quietly. "What's Meridian?"

She paused mid-stroke, then slowly turned to look at me. "What?"

"I said, what's Meridian?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "How do you know that name?"

"Someone came by the office," I said. "A woman named Sarah. Apparently sent by your brother."

At the mention of Guy, her expression hardened.

"Just answer me, please," I added.

She set the comb down on the nightstand and leaned back, arms crossed loosely. "Meridian was one of Guy's projects," she said finally. "A cybersecurity firm that built predictive AI systems for defense clients. When I was still VP of Strategy, he forced me to sign off on their acquisition, even after I told him it was unstable. Their tech used data pulled illegally from government servers—massive privacy violations. I wanted to kill the deal."

"And he blackmailed you."

She nodded once. "He had footage. Old, private things from when I still lived with him. He said if I didn't sign, he'd release them and tell the board I falsified numbers to impress him. So I signed. And I've hated myself for it ever since."

I clenched my jaw. "He's still playing you. Sarah said he gave her everything—proof, documents. She's not trying to expose you, though. She wants money. Two million a month, or she'll hand it all to the board and the press."

"Two million?" she repeated, disbelief cutting through her voice. She shook her head slowly. "That's insane. Even if we could afford that, it would never end. She'd just keep coming back."

"Yeah," I said, rubbing my temples. "I don't know what we should do. I'm not exactly experienced in this whole thing. I used to be a gas station clerk, for fuck's sake."

For a moment, she didn't say anything—just stared at the expensive carpet beneath our feet, lost in thought.

"I'll try to figure something out," she said finally, her voice quieter now. "Hopefully."

I looked at her, then placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned slightly, eyes tired but calm. I pulled her gently into a hug, her head resting against my chest.

"Whatever happens," I murmured, "I'll be with you. Okay?"

She smiled faintly against me and nodded. "Okay."

Nala exhaled, long and tired, then shoved my chest. I toppled backward onto the mattress, legs still hanging off the edge. She crawled up beside me, rolled onto her side, and dropped her head on my chest. The coconut scent of her shampoo filled my nose.

"What happened with Delilah while I was gone?" I asked.

"We talked," Nala said, tracing lazy circles on my shirt. "All the girls did. We promised we wouldn't spill. Sorry."

"That's not fair…"

"She's pregnant, huh." She let the words hang, then sighed. "I'm… for some stupid reason I got a little jealous. Don't know why."

I wrapped an arm around her. "It was… let's not talk about that."

"Are you not happy you're going to be a father?"

"If Delilah hates me, no. If we make up… maybe."

Nala lifted her head. "She told us you came here today ready to end everything with us. Said you wanted to be with her and the baby."

"She gave me an ultimatum," I admitted. "Her and the kid, or the girls. Nala, I couldn't leave a pregnant woman on the street. I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry." She poked my ribs. "That means you're a man who takes responsibility. More than my dad ever did."

"Having common sense counts as responsibility now?"

She giggled, the sound vibrating against my chest. Then she propped herself up on one elbow and looked straight at me. Our eyes locked. A second later our lips met, slow and soft, tasting coconut and toothpaste.

I pulled back an inch. "You sure you won't tell me what you girls said to Delilah?"

"Nope."

"You wanted this," I grinned. "Tickle time."

My fingers attacked her waist. She didn't even flinch. Just stared at me, deadpan, then burst out laughing.

"I'm not ticklish, genius." She rolled off the bed, fixed her shirt where it had ridden up, and smoothed the shorts over her ass. "I have to get to the office. Work's probably a war zone since I vanished."

"You want me back behind the desk?" I teased.

"I want you under my desk," she shot back, then slapped both hands over her mouth. Her face went nuclear red. "Oh my god, Jasmine swore that line would sound hot. It was SO BAD. I hate myself. I wanna cut my tongue out. It was so bad, so bad, so bad, so bad. God…"

I shrugged, smirking. "I mean… I wouldn't say no."

Nala squeaked, spun, and bolted out the door like her ass was on fire.

The room went quiet except for the hum of the city thirty floors below. I flopped back, stared at the ceiling, and laughed under my breath.

"Anchor, huh…" I muttered. "I like that word. Should get it tattooed on my forehead. Anchor."

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