Corin is sprawled across the bed, and the sheet has slipped down to his waist, so that for a moment I just stand there like a dumbstruck idiot, appreciating the view.
The broad shoulders.
The defined chest.
The trail of dark hair disappearing toward—
Focus, Counselor.
You have evidence to present.
“Corin.” I shake his shoulder. “Wake up.”
He makes a sound that’s half groan, half mumble, and pulls the pillow over his head.
“Corin!” I hiss. “I found it!”
That gets his attention. He emerges from under the pillow, his dark eyes blinking at me with adorable confusion.
“Found what?” His voice is thick with sleep.
I hold up the papers like they’re the Holy Grail. Which, honestly, they are. “The connections. Shell company A to shell company B to the Delaware holding company to the current land purchases. It’s all the same network. Xavier’s been running this scheme for six years.”
Corin sits up so fast I have to step back. The sheet pools beneath his hips and I very deliberately do not look down. “Show me.”
I spread the papers across the bed, and point out the trail I’ve traced.
Corin’s eyes are tracking the documents. “Atlantic Cove Investments...”
“Is the company that’s been buying land options on Eleuthera for the past eight months.” I can’t keep the triumph out of my voice. “Same beneficial owner structure. Same offshore registration patterns. Same Xavier Laurent, just with more layers of plausible deniability.”
He looks up at me. Those dark eyes are fully awake now, sharp and intense. “You traced all of this from the paper records?”
“The paper records, and the digital files your accountants sent, all cross-referenced with public corporate registries.” I shrug, trying to play it cool even though my heart is hammering excitedly. “Basic due diligence, really.”
“Basic due diligence,” he repeats. “Good girl.”
There it is!
What I was waiting for!
I blush.
The admiration in his voice.
The awe.
The “good girl.”
God, I’m practically doing cartwheels for a two-word compliment, and I’m not even pretending to be embarrassed about it.
Your Honor, the witness would like to note for the record that she has apparently developed the emotional complexity of a golden retriever who just successfully retrieved a tennis ball.
Look at me! I did the thing!
It’s pathetic, really. I have three Ivy League degrees.
And yet here I am.
