Chapter 2 - The Realignment
"Thank you," I told the concierge, my voice perfectly, terrifyingly steady. "Please ensure Miss Lynn's meals are taken care of. Have a good day."
I hung up the phone.
I looked at the water pooling on the balcony tiles. For eleven months, I had been the man who cleaned up the spills. I had been the man who aligned the passports, ironed the collars, and measured the exact distance of the coaster so Commander Alex Stanton’s life would remain perfectly, blissfully undisturbed.
I had played the quiet, subservient spouse because I wanted a normal life. I had wanted a marriage built on quiet domesticity, far away from the crushing, cutthroat weight of my family’s name. Alex thought he had married a freelance consultant who spent his days making soup and waiting by the phone.
He didn't know he had married the sole heir to Vanguard Global Logistics—the private defense contractor that supplied the fuel, transport, and aviation tech for the entire United States Pacific Fleet.
I set the watering can down. I walked to the kitchen and turned off the stove. The soup was perfectly clear. I poured it directly down the drain.
I didn't pack the silver hard-shell suitcase. I didn't need linen trousers or a universal adapter. I walked into the study, bypassed the perfectly aligned coaster, and unlocked the bottom drawer of Alex’s desk. I took out my secondary passport, the one with my full legal name, and my platinum corporate card.
I booked a one-way, first-class ticket to Sydney, Australia.
Then, I made three phone calls. The first was to the regional director of United Airlines. The second was to Vanguard’s chief compliance officer.
The third was to the Department of Defense Inspector General.
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I slept perfectly that night. When Alex kissed my forehead the next morning, wearing his perfectly pressed light blue shirt, and told me he would call me as soon as his "training exercise" was over, I smiled.
"Have a safe trip, Commander," I said.
