Rachel Steele Gavin <Essential>

The wind picked up, rattling the bare branches above them. Rachel stepped closer, her heels clicking like metronomes of doom.

Gavin was the problem. Gavin Cross—her former protégé, now a junior senator with the charisma of a revival preacher and the ethics of a hungry shark. Six months ago, she had helped him bury a story about a shadowy real estate deal tied to foreign donors. It wasn’t illegal, exactly, but it was the kind of gray-area mess that ended careers. She’d cleaned it up, burned the emails (or so she thought), and moved on. rachel steele gavin

Rachel smiled. It was the smile of a woman who had already played every move on the board. The wind picked up, rattling the bare branches above them

As her silhouette faded toward the Capitol, Gavin stood alone beneath the marble gaze of Abraham Lincoln. He pulled out his phone, scrolled past the encrypted text he’d sent himself—the one that had started it all—and opened a new message to a reporter he’d sworn he’d never call. Gavin Cross—her former protégé, now a junior senator

“No,” Rachel said, turning to walk away into the gray morning. “I’m a survivor. There’s a difference.”

“Loyalty?” Gavin’s voice cracked. “You threatened to release them if I didn’t kill the offshore energy bill. I saw the memo, Rachel. Your fingerprints are all over it.”