Page 55 of Sly Like a Fox
The party continues with more client testimonials and congratulations from colleagues in the legal and victim advocacy communities.Our business model is unique, but the results speak for themselves.In six months, we’ve helped recover over two million dollars in stolen assets or get justice against a seemingly Goliath-like foe.
As the evening progresses, Fenton works the room with the same social engineering skills he once used to infiltrate Anklor’s inner circle but now deployed to build genuine professional relationships with lawyers, victim advocates, and potential clients.The transformation from solitary revenge-seeker to collaborative partner has been remarkable to witness.He’s still the brilliant man I fell in love with, but the bitter edge of constantly planning someone’s destruction has been replaced by the satisfaction of building something positive.
“You know…” Chloe appears beside me with fresh champagne and her characteristic directness.“A year ago, you were complaining about not being able to afford groceries.Now you’re hosting grand opening parties for your own business.That’s quite a transformation.”
“I had some very good luck.”I catch Fenton’s attention across the room and receive his warm smile in return.
“Luck had nothing to do with it.You found someone who appreciates your particular talents instead of being threatened by them.”She follows my gaze toward Fenton, who’s currently charming a group of lawyers with what appears to be a perfectly innocent conversation about evidence analysis techniques.“Though I have to ask, are you actually happy?Really happy, not just financially stable and professionally successful?”
The question catches me unexpectedly with its directness, but I don’t have to think about my answer.“Yes.I’m really happy.Not because of the money or the success, though those are nice, but because I wake up every morning excited to work with him, to solve problems together, and to build something that actually matters.”
“Good.”She nods once in clear approval.“You deserve someone who sees your fox shifter cunning as an asset instead of a liability.”
As the evening winds down, and guests begin departing with promises to refer clients and collaborate on future cases, I’m standing alone with Fenton in our empty office space.The catering has been cleared away, and the silence feels both peaceful and full of possibility.
Fenton settles into one of the chairs we’ve arranged for client consultations.“How does it feel to be a legitimate businesswoman?”
I perch on the edge of his desk and survey our professional domain.“Surreal.Six months ago, if someone had told me I’d be running a consulting firm that helps crime victims, I’d have assumed they were either lying or hallucinating.”
He nods.“If someone had told me I’d be planning a future that involved joint tax returns and shared business insurance, I’d have thought they were describing someone else’s life entirely.”
“Do you miss it?”The question has been nagging at me for weeks as we’ve settled into increasingly normal routines.“The adrenaline, the elaborate schemes, and the satisfaction of taking down a truly deserving target?”
Fenton considers the question with a thoughtful expression.“I miss the clarity of having a single, specific mission.Something was appealingly simple about focusing all my energy on destroying Garret Anklor.”He pauses, studying my face.“I don’t miss the isolation or the constant vigilance or the way revenge consumed everything else in my life.”
“Even when our current cases involve tracking down embezzling office managers instead of infiltrating criminal masterminds’ inner circles?”
He nods without hesitation.“Especially then.Helping Mrs.Chase recover her life savings from that Ponzi scheme operator was just as satisfying as taking down Anklor but without the emotional cost of planning someone’s destruction for three years.”
I understand what he means.Our legitimate cases provide the satisfaction of our previous criminal activities but with the added benefit of sleeping well at night and building something positive instead of just tearing down corruption.
Fenton’s grin suggests he’s been saving his next observation.“Besides, we’re not exactly operating within traditional consulting parameters.Last month, you convinced that embezzling city clerk to confess by pretending to be a forensic accountant from the state attorney’s office.”
“That was calculated roleplaying for the greater good,” I protest, though the memory of my performance still makes me proud, “And it worked.The veterans’ charity got their money back, and the clerk received appropriate consequences for his actions.”
He chuckles.“I’m not criticizing.I’m pointing out that we’ve found a way to channel our particular talents toward positive outcomes without sacrificing the creativity that makes this work interesting.”
He’s absolutely right.Our consulting business allows us to use every skill we developed during our individual criminal careers—social engineering, surveillance, financial investigation, and deception—but in service of helping people rather than purely selfish goals.That we occasionally bend legal boundaries in pursuit of justice feels like a reasonable compromise with our reformed criminal consciences.
We sit quietly for a moment, thinking about this weird journey from elaborate criminal schemes to actually running a business.It hasn’t been smooth, since we’re still figuring out things like insurance and taxes and client confidentiality rules, but that partnership we built while taking down Anklor is stronger than ever.
I slide off the desk to stand directly in front of his chair, suddenly needing to voice something I’ve been thinking about for weeks.“Fenton?I need to tell you something important.”
His expression immediately becomes alert, reading the seriousness in my tone.“What is it?”
“I’m happy.Really, genuinely happy in a way I’ve never been before.”The words feel both simple and profound.“Not because we’re successful or because our business is thriving or because we found a way to use our criminal skills for good purposes, though all of that is wonderful.”
“Then why?”
“Because I wake up every morning excited to work with you, to solve problems together, and build something that matters.”I reach for his hands, marveling at how natural the gesture has become.“Because you see all the worst parts of me, including the cunning and the selfishness and the tendency to bend rules when convenient, and you love me anyway.”
“Those aren’t the worst parts of you.”His tone carries complete conviction.“Those are survival strategies you developed to protect yourself in a world that didn’t appreciate your intelligence or your ambition.Now you get to use those same qualities to help people who need exactly the creative advocacy you provide.”
The observation makes my eyes sting with tears.For years, I believed my fox shifter instincts were character flaws that needed to be hidden or managed.Fenton was the first person to see them as valuable assets that could be channeled toward positive purposes.
“I love you.”The words carry all the gratitude and amazement I feel about our unlikely partnership.
“I love you, too.Even when you reorganize my surveillance equipment without asking and leave fox hair on all my favorite sweaters.”
