“Someone touched what wasn’t theirs. And I’ll burn the whole building down if I have to find out who.”

The air in Reo’s office is choking. It isn’t just tension. It’s fury. Raw. Poisonous.

Stacks of open folders scatter across the desk. Drawers hang half-pulled, and their contents spill on the floor like someone was searching in a blind rage. The walls, usually cold and clean with minimalist art, seem to shrink under Reo’s explosive energy.

He stands dead center with his hair ruffled and his jaw locked like steel. His hand slams flat against the conference table again, and the intern beside him flinches.

“They were right here,” he...