Page 132 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
His face crumbles like a house of cards.
"Everything. Custom security protocols. Untraceable communication channels. Off-grid monitoring systems."
His voice drops to a whisper.
"She'd touch my arm when I explained things. Lean in close and say I was brilliant."
The room tilts sideways. My tracking programs. The ones I showed him for identifying vulnerable women online. The very systems I'd built to help survivors escape their situations.
"The vulnerability assessments I designed for the survivor network. The target identification methods. Did you show her those?"
Slate's eyes widen with dawning horror.
"She asked specifically about how to find potential victims online. Said it was to protect them before traffickers could reach them."
His words come out in a rush now, each confession hitting like a physical blow.
"I believed her, Ness. She made me feel special and wanted and I thought she cared about me—"
"Stop talking."
The command comes from behind me, Asher's voice carrying enough menace to make us both freeze. When I glance back, his face could be carved from ice, but his hands have curled into fists.
Something's cracked. The careful control he's held for days is fracturing around the edges.
"People died because of what you built. Women are dead."
A single tear tracks down Slate's cheek, illuminated by the blue glow of his monitors.
"I know. God, Nessa, I know. I can see it now. Every question she asked, every system she wanted modified. She was using me to plug holes in her own network."
My fingers dig into my palms until my nails draw blood. The pieces fit together with sickening clarity. Every program I'd shared with him, every method for finding vulnerable targets, twisted into hunting tools.
"Nessa, please," Slate whispers through the screen, desperation bleeding through every pixel. "Let me help you take them down. I can fix this, I can undo what I built, I can—"
I hit disconnect.
The screen goes black, taking Slate's devastated expression with it. The sudden silence roars in my ears, broken only by the sound of my laptop snapping shut harder than necessary.
My systems. My code. My programs finding vulnerable women and delivering them straight into traffickers' hands. Every brilliant solution I'd created to help people had been weaponized against them.
My legs give out.
The hardwood floor races toward my knees as every barrier I'd built inside my head crumbles at once. The impact sends shockwaves up my thighs, but the physical pain barely registers against the tsunami of guilt crashing over me.
"I built the systems."
The words tear from my throat like shards of glass.
"My work helped them hunt those women."
Strong arms wrap around me before I can collapse completely. Asher's scent fills my lungs as he pulls me against his chest. For a moment, the icy control he's maintained for days cracks completely.
"No."
His voice reverberates through his ribcage, rough with something that might be pain.
"You didn't do this."
