Page 58 of Protected Hearts

The surveillance footage from the handler’s murder, along with maps and images of all the people and businesses associated with William over the years created a makeshift crime investigation board. Oaks and Carson had spent hours poring over all the information and digging up more as they began to connect the dots.

Laid out this way, Oaks saw how damn huge this case was with multiple people involved.

He folded one arm across his chest and scrubbed his knuckle across his upper lip. The sharp stubble of his five-o’clock shadow created a rasping sound. Carson stood on the opposite side of the desk, focused.

“This guy’s been a snake in the grass for months, slithering just out of sight.”

Oaks nodded in agreement. “Just inches from the feet of the authorities. With all of his connections, no wonder. They hide him.”

“And kill those who might talk.”

They both looked at the photo of the dead counterintelligence agent. The handler Shiloh was meant to pass off the files to had been trained to handle threats just like this…yet he’d lost his life.

Oaks shuddered to think of what would have happened to her if she’d made it to that meeting. It was shocking that she’d managed to stay alive.

“We need to think hard about those files Shiloh has locked down.” Carson lifted his gaze to Oaks. “How safe do you think they actually are?”

He rubbed a hand over his nape and squeezed his stiff neck muscles. “She’s smarter than anyone I’ve seen when it comes to tech. Hell, none of us have been able to see what she’s even doing on her laptop.”

Carson gave him a narrow look. “Yeah, wasn’t the point of her having access givingusaccess?”

“Guess my idea backfired. But she’s already told us what she’s doing with the security logins and countdown timer. I don’t think she’s hiding anything else from us. When it comes to William, I have no doubt that he’s tried to unlock the files himself, and when that failed, he more than likely employed others to try to hack them.”

Oaks grew silent again, sweeping his stare across the desk. The faces of several Russian mafia kingpins gazed out from those photos with such cold and heartless intensity that he could almost feel the ice in their souls. These men lived to create hell on earth for humankind and would stop at nothing to sow terror.

He let out a snort. “They make Vanya look like a fairy princess.”

Carson eyed him. “Tell me something, Oaks.”

“I’m listening.”

“You don’t really want your marriage to be fake, do you?”

He jerked his head up at the question. Their stares connected, and questions popped into his own mind.

“I’ve asked myself that very thing,” he admitted, words coming slowly.

“And?”

He released a long breath. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when this is all said and done.”

“But you care about her.”

He studied his brother’s serious face for a moment. “I do.”

The echo of the same vows he’d spoken to the woman bearing his name—his false name—gave him an odd feeling that somehow the fake arrangement had shifted into a real one. It was also an echo of the conversation he had with Decker earlier in the barn and seemed to need as few words too.

His gaze slipped to the desk again, hovering over a photo of William in a slick navy suit. Everything about the guy was polished. He was the kind of businessman who backed politicians and rubbed elbows with the most powerful men in the world. Yet he was just as dirty as the kingpins staring up from those photos.

“He’s been flaunting himself for far too long.”

Carson nodded, understanding who he referred to. “But he made a mistake stepping on our turf and sending that drone here.”

Anger blazed through Oaks, a flame snapping on the head of a matchstick. “What’s the plan then? Storm in with guns and take him down?”

Carson let out a snort. “You’re suggesting we become mercenaries now?”

“Mercenaries are paid for the jobs they do. We’re doing this for…” He lapsed into silence as he realized they didn’t exactly have a reason for doing this. Fury wouldn’t get him far in this case, and the fire inside him died out.

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