Page 123 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
I pull back just enough to meet her gaze. "No, you're so much more dangerous than that."
I slide my hand down to her hip, then lower, giving her tender rear another gentle squeeze. The small wince and gasp that escapes her lips makes me smile against her mouth.
"I like seeing my marks on you," I admit, the words raw and honest. "Knowing you feel me even when I'm not touching you."
She smiles against my mouth, unafraid of the monster she's awakening. "Good. Then leave some more."
thirty-six
Alina
"We've made progress tracking the connections from Roman's initial investigation," Kade begins, his voice steady and focused.
The afternoon light filters through the windows of CPG headquarters conference room on the 38th floor as I settle into my seat for the briefing. My body still hums with the echoes of last night, the memory of Kade's hands on my skin making it impossible to concentrate.
I'm supposed to still be furious with him, not fantasizing about another round.
Kade stands at the front of the room, his muscular frame casting a long shadow across the polished conference table. When our eyes meet, a spark of heat passes between us, and I quickly look away.
Stop it, Alina. Professional faceon.
"Cole, what have you found?" I straighten as Kade's commanding voice ripples through my body, making my nerve endings tingle from my neck all the way down to my tailbone.
Fuck's sake, get it together.
Cole, all business as usual, pulls up a series of complex diagrams on the main screen, his fingers moving with practiced precision across his tablet.
"I've identified several shell companies linked to the financial transactions Roman was tracking. They all seem to funnel back to a central holding company." Cole pauses, adjusting his glasses. "The pattern suggests deliberate obfuscation—someone's going to great lengths to hide these money trails."
I lean forward, focusing on the data rather than the way Kade's jaw clenches when he's concentrating. The flash drive burns a hole in my pocket. I pull it out and slide it across the table toward Cole.
"I don't know who the man I met really was, but the information…it looks legit. He provided this before Steele's men showed up. It contains shipping manifests from Apex Solutions—they're moving far more than semiconductors." My voice comes out steadier than I feel.
"Jenny's notes matched license plates on these vans to a shell company owned by Markus Steele—the same man whose name appeared in financial transfers to the judge who dismissed charges against the Harbor Patrol officer who discovered bodies at Pier 42."
Kade's gaze locks onto mine, his eyes burning with intensity. "You didn't mention this earlier."
Because we were busy with our mouths and hands all over each other, I think, warmthflooding my face.
"I was a little preoccupied with not getting killed," I reply with forced calm. I only managed to look at these files after we arrived at headquarters this morning. It's not like I've had any opportunity to examine them properly and brief you before now.
Jax snickers, earning a sharp look from Kade.
"Have we been able to trace any of these back to specific individuals beyond Steele?" I ask, redirecting the conversation.
Kade's expression softens slightly. "Not yet, but we're getting closer."
"Jax has been running surveillance on some potential leads related to Steele," Cole adds.
Jax, lounging in his chair with characteristic casual grace, straightens and pulls up a series of grainy surveillance photos.
"We've identified three locations Steele frequents regularly. Two appear to be legitimate businesses, but the third..."
He pauses, zooming in on a nondescript warehouse, his usual playful demeanor vanishing. "This one's interesting. Heavy security, irregular hours of operation, and—" he flicks to another image, "delivery vans matching the descriptions from your flash drive."
Jenny died for this information, I think, a familiar hollow ache spreading through my chest.I'm so close to the truth she was chasing.
"We need to get eyes inside that warehouse," I say, my instincts kicking into high gear. "If we could document what's happening in there—"
