Page 74 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
"I'm sure you do." Kade's voice is neutral, but not dismissive.
Cole approaches, tablet in hand. His body flows with the same controlled exactness I saw yesterday while he watched the target building, though seeing him in headquarters rather than crammed in the van offers a new perspective on his calculated efficiency.
"The data you extracted yesterday is already proving useful." Cole turns his tablet towards me. "We've identified three more shell companies since this morning."
I nod, relieved to see a familiar face in this intimidating space. "Did you run the program I created for the transaction patterns?"
"Just finished. Results are promising." The slight upward tilt at the corner of his mouth is as close to excitement as Cole seems to get.
A woman with brown waves and clear green eyes steps forward—Alina, whose face I recognize from our brief video call a few days ago. In person, she moves with a different kind of confidence than the men, with less tactical precision and more observant awareness.
"It's nice to finally meet you in person," Alina says with a genuine smile.
"You're the reporter," I blurt out, then wince at my lack of filter.
"Former reporter," she corrects with a gentle nod, not seeming offended by my directness.
My eyes dart between her and Kade, catching the subtle shift in his expression when she speaks.Fascinating. The fearedcommander has a soft spot.The dynamic between them speaks of something new but solid.
"Jax is waiting in the conference room with the surveillance footage." Cole gestures toward a hallway to our right.
"I've identified patterns in their transport schedule and potential weaknesses in their digital security," I say, eager to contribute.
Asher's hand moves to my upper arm, his touch both steadying and possessive. My body responds instantly. Heat rises between my legs that I try desperately to ignore.
"Let's not keep them waiting," he says, voice low near my ear.
The conference room awaits us at the end of the hallway. My heartbeat quickens as I approach, mentally preparing to present my findings to these professionals whose lives depend on precision.
I step inside and pause, momentarily overwhelmed. The room screams operational excellence: a gleaming glass table, multiple screens showing surveillance feeds.
"Holy shit," I whisper, taking it all in. My fingers twitch with excitement at all the tech surrounding me.
Jax looks up from a tablet and grins, his blue-green eyes lighting up when he notices me. Just like during yesterday's surveillance operation, he radiates kinetic energy even while sitting.
"Look who's officially joined the team," he says, his smile widening. "How's our resident tech genius finding headquarters compared to the cramped surveillance vehicle?"
"Jax," Asher says, his voice carrying a warning note I recognize immediately.
I drop my messenger bag on the table and start unpacking my system—purple notebook with color-coded tabs for financial data, green for personnel movements, yellow for schedulingpatterns. My collection of specialized Pilot G2 pens (different colors mean different things) tumble across the table.
"I work better with analog backups," I explain, feeling my cheeks warm as I spread out my collection of notebooks and pens across their pristine table. "Digital can be wiped, but they'd have to physically take these."
Jax leans forward, watching me with undisguised interest. "That's quite a system you've got there."
"It's my attempt to organize the chaos," I say, pulling out my tablet. "My brain bounces between a thousand thoughts at once. The color-coding helps me somewhat, but..." I trail off, thinking of how Asher's presence somehow slows everything down, creates moments of mental quiet I never experience otherwise.
I sync my tablet with the primary display, and the screens fill with financial data, surveillance photos, and tracking maps. My nervousness disappears as I slip into explanation mode.
"Tatiana Ivanov maintains a predictable pattern." My hands fly as I point to unique data points. "The financial transfers to offshore accounts happen exactly three days after each VIP client meeting. Never four days, never two."
My fingers dance across the screen, pulling up account numbers, transaction records. "She's using a shell company in Cyprus to funnel the money, but the timestamps create a perfect correlation with the client meetings."
Jax stands, moving closer. "You're wasted on computers, sweetheart. With observation skills like that, you should be in the field." His hand brushes my arm as he reaches for my notebook, fingers lingering a moment too long.
The energy in the room changes as soon as Jax touches me. Asher's expression goes completely still, that muscle in his jaw pulsing. His eyes aren't on the data anymore; they're fixed on Jax's hand near mine.
"I think we should review the building schematics before tomorrow's operation," Asher interrupts, voice carrying a dangerous edge as he steps closer to my side, creating a physical barrier between Jax and me.
