Page 63 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
"Perfect." I crack open the water bottle and drain half in one go. "I've copied the Paradise Elite client database to our secure server. Their encryption was..."
"Amateur," he finishes, his lips quirking slightly.
I nod. "For an operation this sophisticated, they're surprisingly sloppy with their digital footprint."
Asher slides into the chair beside me, his forearm brushing mine as he reaches for the keyboard. His proximity sends a ripple of awareness through my body.
"Let's cross-reference their client list with financial transactions," he suggests, fingers moving with methodical precision.
I'm already three steps ahead, hands dancing over my keyboard. "And filter for recurring appointments that coincide with wire transfers to these offshore accounts."
"Add passport issuance dates," Asher says, not looking up.
"Already on it." My fingers type the command before he finishes speaking.
We fall into a rhythm; my chaotic lateral thinking jumping between datasets, his linear precision keeping our investigation anchored. I make connections through intuitive leaps; he follows with methodical verification.
"Wait, did you see that?" I point to a pattern emerging on Leia's screen. "Paradise Elite clients who meet with Jasmine or Daisy always make payments to this holding company within 48 hours."
Asher leans closer, his shoulder pressing against mine. "And that holding company transfers funds to—"
"Vertex Models!" I finish, my leg suddenly bouncing with frantic energy. "Look at these dates. Every time Paradise sends a girl on an 'international assignment,' Vertex processes a new model through their system."
My heart pounds as I tap commands faster, pulling up side-by-side photos. "It's the same women, Asher. Different names, different hair, but it's them."
I stretch, bones popping after hours of hunched-over typing. The evidence is irrefutable—a direct pipeline for trafficking women through seemingly legitimate businesses.
"I should get Slate to verify these findings." I reach for my phone. "His pattern recognition algorithms might catch something we're missing."
Asher's expression shifts subtly—jaw tightening a fraction. "Is he trustworthy?"
I pull up Slate's contact, finger hovering over the call button. "Slate showed me how to break into secured networks. He's solid."
"That doesn't answer my question."
I roll my eyes. "Yes, Frost. He's trustworthy. He's been helping trafficking victims rebuild their digital identities for years."
Without waiting for approval, I start the video call, adjusting my position so Asher can see the screen. The room darkens as evening settles, our faces illuminated by the blue glow of multiple monitors.
Slate's face appears, typical bedhead and gaming headset in place. "Nessa! Tell me you haven't been kidnapped by Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Terrifying over there."
My cheeks flush. "I'm fine. We've found something huge."
I quickly share my screen, explaining our discoveries while pushing aside empty takeout containers. As I detail the connection between Paradise Elite and Vertex Models, my entire body vibrates with the thrill of breakthrough.
"...and look at the facial recognition matches. They're changing names, appearances, but it's definitely the same women."
Slate whistles. "Damn, girl. Your instincts are solid, as always."
I beam at the praise, but freeze when I catch sight of something on Leia's screen: a fragment of code I extracted from Vertex Models' security system. The signature structure, the elegant efficiency, the distinctive commented tags... they look like—
Could it be?
My stomach twists.
"Nessa? You okay?" Slate's voice pulls me back.
"Yeah, just... processing." I swallow hard, covering my confusion with a quick smile. "Can you run these financial patterns through your tracking algorithm? See if you can identify other agencies using the same structure?"
