Page 68 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
Alina leans in, her shoulder pressing against mine. "Look at what's behind him. That's the Maritime Museum, isn't it?"
I nod, recognizing the distinctive architecture. "Good catch."
"And that compass on the wall," she continues, pointing to an ornate nautical instrument in the background. "It looks antique."
I study the photo more closely. "Cole, can you run this through image enhancement? Zoom in on the compass."
Cole takes the photo, his fingers dancing across his tablet. "There's a serial number visible. Faint, but I can just make it out."
While he works, I become almost painfully aware of Alina still standing close—her warmth, her scent, the slight pressure of her arm against mine. I take a half-step away, needing distance to think clearly.
She notices, of course. A small, knowing smile plays at her lips before she turns her attention back to Cole.
"Got something," Cole announces after a few tense minutes. "The compass was decommissioned years ago, but I've traced it back to a specific storage locker at the Maritime Museum's preservation section."
Asher pulls up more of Roman's files. "I've got something else. Look at these coordinates in his encrypted communications."
I move to his station, studying the pattern of numbers and letters. Recognition dawns. "That's an old military code we used during our early ops."
"Roman left us breadcrumbs," I explain, pointing to the pattern emerging on the screen as Cole maps the coordinates. "These form an old naval navigation route."
"And they all converge at the Maritime Museum," Alina adds, leaning forward to study the map.
"He wanted us to find something there," I say, certainty growing. "Something he couldn't tell us directly."
"So, what's the play?" Jax asks, spinning a pen between his fingers. "We can't exactly raid a public museum."
I consider our options, eyeing Alina's press credentials on the table. "We go in officially. Alina, you'll pose as a journalist doing a story on naval history."
"So basically, just be myself?" That smile again, slightly crooked. "I can do that."
"Asher, you'll go as her photographer. The rest of us provide surveillance and backup."
As the team prepares, I pull Alina aside. "This isn't a game. We follow the plan exactly. No improvising."
She steps closer, close enough that I catch the faint cinnamon on her breath. "Do I strike you as the reckless type, Ghost?"
The memory of her lips against mine floods back with painful clarity. My gaze drops to her mouth before I can stop it.
"You strike me as someone who gets exactly what she wants," I reply, voice dropping lower. "Just remember—out there, I call the shots."
"Understood." She tilts her head, studying me with those penetrating green eyes. "Just one thing I'm curious about."
"What's that?"
"That military code you recognized..." Her gaze is too perceptive, seeing too much. "Roman wasn't just your business partner, was he? What aren't you telling me about your history together?"
The question hits too close to classified information—things about Roman and me that no one on the team knows, not even Asher. Things that could change how everyone sees us both if they ever came to light.
"We should go," I say instead of answering, turning away.
Her hand catches my arm, surprisingly strong. "Whatever we find at that museum... you think it's connected to why someone wanted him dead, don't you?"
I meet her eyes, seeing the sharp intelligence there. "Yes. And if I'm right, it might be why someone wants you dead too."
twenty
Alina
