Page 8 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
"So what do you suggest?" I ask, my voice low.
Asher's expression hardens. "We eliminate her. Clean and simple."
My gut clenches at his words. It's the smart move, the cautious play. But it doesn't sit right. I shake my head, fixing Asher with a hard stare.
"We don't hurt civilians unnecessarily, especially women. You know that's one of our rules."
Asher's ice-cold eyes narrow. "Rules can change when the stakes are high enough."
I grit my teeth, feeling the muscles in my face tense up. Asher's ruthless pragmatism is an asset on missions, but sometimes I wonder if he's forgotten our core beliefs.
"She's a distraction we can't afford right now," he continues.
I open my mouth to respond, but Cole's voice cuts through the tension.
"Maybe we're jumping the gun here."
I turn to see him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.
"She didn't actually get anything," Cole points out. "There might be nothing to worry about. We could just monitor her for now."
I nod slowly, considering his words. My gut tells me he's right – she knows nothing concrete. At least, not yet.
"Give me some time to think it over," I leave no room for argument. "I'll decide soon. For now, you're all dismissed."
Asher looks like he wants to argue, but a sharp glance from me silences him. He, Jax and Cole file out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I push away from the control panel, my chair rolling across the smooth floor. I need more information.
Leaving the control room, I head to the communications hub just down the hall, its banks of computers humming with activity. I settle in front of one terminal.
My fingers glide across the keyboard, scanning digital breadcrumbs. Her name is Alina Bennett. Her name has substance to it, carries a certain gravity—reminds me of the woman herself.
Her professional profile reveals sharp edges: an award-winning journalist known for investigations that cut deep. Precision defines her work. I recognize that laser focus immediately.
Something's driving her beyond professional curiosity.
Finding a news article related to her, my eyes lock onto another name—Jenny Martinez. A rookie reporter mentored by Bennett, but that's not why the name sends a jolt of energy through my body
I remember the case files, the brutal circumstances of Martinez's death while investigating high-end escort services. The reports were clinical, but the underlying brutality spoke volumes.
This isn't just journalism for Alina. This is personal. A vendetta.
A dangerous combination. Professional skills mixed with raw, personal motivation can make someone extremely unpredictable. Potentially powerful. Potentially lethal.
I lean back, muscles tense under my tactical black shirt. My mind starts mapping potential scenarios, threat vectors. Alina Bennett just became significantly more complicated than a simple research target.
And complicated means risky.
The communication terminal hums softly, its blue screen reflecting my calculating expression. One thing becomes crystal clear: I'll need to watch her closely.
Very closely.
three
Kade
I've spent two weeks watching her. Two weeks of calculating, planning, justifying.
