"I mean, what if this was just about the danger? The adrenaline? What happens when all of this is over, and there's no reason for him to protect me anymore?"
"Fee." Moira's voice turns firm. "I saw how he looked at you at our house. The way he moved when you were in the room. That wasn't just protection."
"Or maybe that's exactly what it was. Protection. His job."
"You don't really believe that."
I don't answer because I'm not sure what I believe.
"Fee, listen to me. The man infiltrated our mansion and challenged Lorenzo Carlucci, just to prove a point about your safety."
"I guess. I just need to see what happens after all this danger is over. After there's no adrenaline or professional obligation. Then we'll see what's real."
Moira sighs. "You're being stubborn."
"I'm being realistic."
There's a pause, then Moira groans. "Okay, I really need to pee now. This baby is sitting directly on my bladder. Want me to take you with me to the bathroom?"
I laugh. "No, I'm good. Go take care of business. I need to study for my final anyway."
"Go kick some ass, little sis."
"Thank you, Moira. Really. And I'm going to see about staying with you. Keep you company during mornings like this one."
"I'd love that. This house is too quiet when Lorenzo's gone. I better go pee now. Love you."
"Love you too, beautiful Mama."
I set my phone down and pull the laptop closer, but my eyes drift to my purse sitting innocently beside it.
Yuri went through my laptop. I know he did.
The digital fingerprints are subtle. He's good. Really good.
But I'm always learning, always discovering.
The tampon box sits at the bottom of my purse, past lipstick, wallet, and all the normal things that make this hiding spot perfect. Six count, organic cotton, completely unremarkable.
Except they're not. I shake one out into my palm. My thumb finds the pull-string, and I tug.
The cotton slides free from the plastic tube, revealing the hollow interior. Nestled inside sits a micro SD card, smaller than my thumbnail.
What man would ever think to check a woman's tampons? Even the most paranoid soldier wouldn't dismantle feminine hygiene products and meticulously reassemble them. The psychological barrier alone makes it the perfect hiding spot.
Though with these guys, who knows? Maybe Yuri did check. Maybe he found it, copied everything, and put it back exactly as he found it just to see what I'd do next.
Only one way to find out.
I disconnect from the VPN Anton gave me. The camellia pendant sits on the counter, beautiful and dormant. This particular piece of research needs to stay completely off his radar until I know what I'm dealing with.
The SD card slots into my laptop with a soft click. Morrison's life unfolds across my screen in neat folders: financial records, communications, meeting schedules, property deeds.
I start with the HeartSync payments. Twelve transactions over six months, each one for fifty thousand dollars. Six hundred thousand total, flowing into an account supposedly belonging to a dating app, protected by military-grade encryption.
Except the numbers don't add up.
I pull up Morrison's income statements, his known assets, and his spending patterns. The man was well-paid for a corrupt judge, but not this well-paid. These transactions would have drained accounts he didn't have. The money trail leads to sources that don't exist.
