Page 147 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
"Exactly. Seduced him, stole his code, then threw him away when she got what she needed."Like I might be discarded.
Asher shifts his weight, and my mind grabs onto the movement like it's life-or-death intelligence. The way his shoulders adjust, how his fingers flex once before returning to perfect stillness. His gaze remains fixed on the middle distance, calculating something I can't access.
I told him I loved him, and he's looking at me like I'm malicious code that might corrupt his system.
Kade closes his folder with a decisive tap. "Right. Team, we're moving to observation room three. Tatiana's initial questioning starts in fifteen minutes."
Everyone stands, gathering tablets and notes. I force my attention onto Asher as he times his movements just right, standing when Cole blocks his straightest route to me, moving behind Jax instead of passing anywhere close to where I stand.
The calculated distance hurts worse than rejection. It's precision-guided avoidance.
I clutch my tablet tighter to my chest, the screen's warmth the only comfort as I fall into step behind the others, watching Asher's back as he maintains space between us. Close enough for appearances, far enough to cut deep.
The glass separating us from the interrogation room looks like an ordinary wall from the other side, but we have a clear view of everything. The harsh lighting, the steel chair bolted to the floor, and Tatiana Ivanov sitting perfectly straight despite the handcuffs securing her to the table.
"—entire operation mapped," Damian's voice comes through the speakers as we settle into our seats. He circles Tatiana like a predator. "Paradise Elite. Vertex Models. The shipping manifests disguised as modeling contracts."
He's not even raising his voice. That's what makes him terrifying—the quiet certainty, like he's already won and she just doesn't know it yet.
I deliberately choose a seat near the door. My tablet screen glows in the dimness, displaying Jenny's file photo. This woman across the glass ordered her death.
The door opens quietly behind us. Alina slips in, her face pale in the monitor's glow. She takes one look at Tatiana through the glass, then at Jenny's photo on my tablet screen, and her composure cracks.
Without thinking, I reach for her hand. She grips mine tightly, her fingers trembling.
We're the only ones who really knew Jenny. Who understand what was lost when she died.
Kade moves to her other side, placing a steady hand on her shoulder, but his attention remains fixed on the interrogation.
Asher positions himself in the farthest corner, keeping maximum distance between us. My chest tightens.
Damian places documents on the table—bank statements, property seizures, communication logs. Each paper lands with deliberate impact.
"Your accounts were emptied yesterday." His voice carries the inevitability of a system crash. "Before we even knew where you were."
Yesterday. While I was in his apartment, thinking we were building something real, her handlers were already three steps ahead. How long have they known we were coming?
Tatiana's platinum hair is slightly disheveled, but her posture remains regal until she sees those financial records. Her ice-blue eyes narrow as she studies them like they're written in code she can't break.
"That's not possible."
Oh, it's possible. I've seen asset seizures happen faster than a DDoS attack once the right people flip the switch.
"Someone warned them we were closing in." Damian circles her chair, predatory and patient. "Question is—did they warn you?"
And there it is. The kill shot. Because nothing breaks someone faster than realizing they're expendable.
Tatiana doesn't flinch at first, her trained composure holding. Then Damian slides a photograph across the table—Jenny's press badge.
"Jenny Martinez." His voice drops lower. "Twenty-four years old. Journalist. You ordered her killed."
Alina's grip on my hand tightens. I squeeze back, both of us watching the woman who destroyed our friend's life.
Jenny never got to see this. Never got to watch her killer's world collapse in real time. I'm witnessing justice for both of us, and it feels hollow anyway.
"The girl was persistent. She found connections she shouldn't have." Tatiana studies the photo with clinical detachment. "Markus handled the matter as instructed."
"Your lover." Damian's voice turns predatory.
