POV: Julian Cross
"Where were you yesterday at 3 PM?"
Julian set down his coffee and turned to look at Iris. She stood in the kitchen doorway with her arms crossed, her expression carefully neutral. But he could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was bracing for whatever answer he might give.
"I was at my office," he said.
"Which office?"
"The one downtown."
She didn't respond. Just waited, as though his answer was incomplete. As though his presence at his office required additional justification.
"I had a meeting with Marcus Webb," he continued, providing information she hadn't asked for. "About the Hartwell situation. About what he found regarding DeVos's associates. I can show you the communications."
"That's okay," Iris said, and left the kitchen.
