She's testing me, pushing to see what kind of man I really am beneath the violence and loyalty, whether I'm the type who takes what I want without asking.
I move closer to her, close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in her green eyes. Close enough that she has to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.
"Fee, you deserve my best. Which is why this morning I kept my distance and was waiting for you to exit the boutique to talk to you." My gaze drifts to her lips before returning to her eyes. "But now, we stay together until I kill the bastard who ordered the shooting today."
Fee's eyes widen, but she doesn't pull away. She leans closer.
"And if your orders say otherwise?"
"Then I'll ignore them."
Her hand moves to rest against my chest, palm flat over my heart. The touch burns through the fabric of my shirt, anchoring me to this moment, to her.
"That's dangerous for you."
"Losing you is more dangerous for me than any consequences I'll face." I cover her hand with mine, pressing it firmer against my chest so she can feel how hard my heart pounds. "Someone tried to kill you today, Fee. And I promise you this, until I find them and put a bullet in their head, you don't leave my sight."
Chapter 4
Raw & Real
Fee:
One week ago…
The cursor blinks mockingly at me from behind the layers of encryption I can't crack.
My fingers hover over the keyboard with the familiar burn of frustration fueling my next move.
Seventeen different approaches, twelve proxy servers, and one new approach Phoenix taught me to use. Still nothing.
Judge Morrison's financial records sprawl across my second monitor like digital evidence of every sin imaginable. Offshore accounts in the Caymans. Regular payments to escort services, acocaine habit, wire transfers to his bookie, but this one account keeps drawing me back,HeartSync Dating Solutions.
Sounds innocent enough. Looks like every other hookup app, draining lonely wallets across Chicago. Except HeartSync's servers are highly protected.
Plus, his monthly payments here dwarf everything else, including his cocaine habit. Whatever Morrison is buying through HeartSync, it's not sex or drugs; it's something worth protecting behind layers and layers of security.
I lean back in my desk chair, studying the lines of code scrolling past, and hit enter. For three weeks, I've been chasing this digital ghost, ever since I started digging into Anton's business here.
But the Basovs are phantoms online, with no social media, no public records...nothing. Their servers are impenetrable.
Their property holdings are buried under shell companies that lead to more shell companies.
Smart. Frustrating, but smart.
My laptop chimes softly. Another failed attempt.
"Damn it."
The Chicago overcast skies hit my bedroom window, matching my luck perfectly.
I minimize the encrypted files and launch another brute force attack, letting it run in the background while I pull up my secondary browser.
Morrison's court records paint a different picture entirely, revealing case after case where he ruled in favor of Quinn interests. Construction permits approved despite environmental concerns. Zoning variances that shouldn't have passed. A manslaughter charge against one of Dad's associates that mysteriously got reduced to involuntary vehicular homicide.
The Basovs appear less frequently, but when they do, Morrison's rulings follow the same pattern. Evidence suppressed. Charges dismissed on technicalities. Search warrants denied.
This looks like standard corruption. Nothing groundbreaking about a bought judge doing favors for the families that own him.
