"I'll text you the address."
"I still have it from last time."
The casual reminder of our previous encounter sends heat through me."Right."
She hesitates, half-packed bag in hand."Callum, about Richard..."
"We'll discuss it later.Once we have conclusive evidence."
She licks her lips and blinks, before nodding."Okay.Later."
After she leaves, I remain in the conference room, studying the elaborate web of connections she's mapped out.
The evidence pointing to Richard's involvement is becoming harder to ignore, yet I still feel that inexplicable reluctance to pursue it fully.
Why am I still protecting him?
After everything he's done—the embezzlement, the betrayal, the apparent sabotage—why does the thought of taking definitive action against my brother still feel so wrong?
I don't have an answer.
Not one I'm willing to examine too closely, anyway.
* * *
The hotel suitedoor closes behind us with a soft click at 10:23 PM.
Karina's mother's appointment had run long, and further research had kept us both at the office well past nightfall.
By the time we finally made it to my suite, fatigue had settled over both of us—though not enough to dampen the electricity that crackles whenever we're alone together.
"Find anything new?"I ask, taking her coat.
"Nothing conclusive yet."She kicks off her shoes with a sigh."But I've narrowed down the source locations for the most explicit posts.Three originated from Reykjavik, but the rest came from Seattle—specifically, from a coffee shop Richard frequents.Used to frequent," she corrects herself.
"Interesting.That suggests he might have a local accomplice."
"Or he set up automated posting before leaving for Iceland."She runs a hand through her hair, loosening it from its professional style."Either way, we're getting closer."
I move to the bar."Drink?"
"Please.Whatever's strongest."
I pour us each a finger of single malt, the amber liquid catching the low light as I hand her a glass.
Our fingers brush during the exchange, a momentary contact that somehow feels more intimate than it should.
"To progress," I offer, raising my glass.
"To finally getting some answers," she counters, clinking her tumbler against mine.
We drink in the air-conditioned silence, the day's tensions gradually easing as the whisky works its magic.
Karina wanders to the window, looking out at Seattle's glittering skyline.
"It's beautiful at night," she comments absently."All the sharp edges get blurred."
I move to join her, standing close enough to feel her warmth without quite touching."A convenient illusion."
