Page 51 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
This reaction should trigger all my warning systems—but my defenses remain conspicuously silent.
The secure tablet chimes from the living room.Priority message.
I glance at the screen, and my calm is disrupted. Three words flash across the display:Paradise Elite connection.
Everything just got more complicated.
fourteen
Vanessa
The financial records blur together as I dive deeper into Paradise Elite's money trail. Hours have passed since that priority message arrived. Since Asher's entire demeanor shifted from cautious protector to lethal operative mode.
Now I'm so deep into these digital breadcrumbs that the rest of the world has disappeared. My fingers fly across unfamiliar keys while my brain connects invisible dots between shell companies and wire transfers.
This laptop is a beast compared to what I had before. Even with my equipment fried, I have to appreciate the processing power Blade arranged. Like trading a skateboard for a Ferrari.
A warm hand lands on my shoulder, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
"Kade wants to discuss your Paradise Elite findings with Alina. She worked with Jenny Martinez before her death."
Jenny's name hits me like a bucket of ice water. My head snaps up so fast my neck cracks, vision blurring as I blink away the digital afterimages burned into my retinas. Asher's sterile living room materializes around me like a loading screen.
"Wait…Alina knew Jenny?"
I move to slide away from the laptop camera's view, instinct telling me to hide, but Asher's hand captures my wrist. His touch is firm but not restrictive, his skin surprisingly warm against my pulse point.
"Stay. I want them to hear about the financial connections you found."
My heartbeat doubles its tempo beneath his fingers as he positions the laptop to frame us both. He settles beside me on the couch, his thigh pressing firmly against mine. The contact shouldn't feel significant, but my body disagrees, every nerve ending suddenly attentive.
"Fine, but if your boss starts giving me the third degree, I'm blaming you." I try for casual, but my voice betrays me.
"Kade's intimidating until you realize he's just an overgrown boy scout with too many guns," Asher replies with unexpected humor, his eyes staying on the screen as he types in a secure connection code.
"That's supposed to be reassuring?" I unconsciously lean closer to him while my right leg starts bouncing rapidly.
The corner of his mouth twitches. "You took out our encryption in under an hour. I'm pretty sure you can handle Kade."
My stomach flips at what sounds suspiciously like a compliment from Mr. Ice Man. Before I can respond, the laptop screen fills with faces, and I straighten my shoulders, acutely conscious of Asher's solid presence beside me.
The screen comes alive with the absurdly attractive couple I saw before—they look like they stepped off a magazine cover for "Tactical Beauty Monthly." The woman has rich brown waves and intelligent green eyes; beside her sits a mountain of a man with striking blue eyes and the kind of shoulders that probably have their own zip code.
My fingers twitch, instinctively wanting to start typing their information into a search algorithm.
"Good to see you again, Vanessa," Alina says with a genuine smile that contrasts with Kade's more reserved nod.
"Vanessa has uncovered financial connections between Paradise Elite and another organization that might be linked to what happened to Jenny." Asher's voice carries that same assured precision I've noticed in everything he does.
I take this as my cue and launch into my findings, my words accelerating as connections light up in my brain. My leg bounces faster under Asher's palm, energy needing somewhere to escape.
"It's a sophisticated shell game. Paradise Elite has been moving girls and money through a modeling agency called Vertex Models. They've created this beautiful financial labyrinth—"
I pull up three windows simultaneously, splitting the screen to show transaction patterns. "The brilliant part is how they disguise payments as modeling contracts and booking fees, but the timing patterns reveal it's actually payment for the women themselves."
My thoughts race ahead of my mouth. I'm about to dive into the offshore accounts when Asher's hand applies the slightest pressure to my knee. The touch grounds me instantly, like someone adjusting the dial on a radio that's between stations.
I take a breath, slow down. "Jenny was tracking these transactions before she died. I think that's what got her killed."
