"And if you trigger again?"
"Then I communicate. I use my safeword. I trust you to handle it properly instead of assuming the worst and running."
Shaw studies me for another long moment. Then he nods once. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"We try again. But with conditions." He leans forward. "No more disappearing. If something feels wrong, you tell me. Immediately. Not days later after you've convinced yourself I'm a predator."
"Agreed."
"And we take it slower. We build trust before we dive back into scene work. Let you see that I'm consistent, that my actions match my words, that you can trust me and yourself."
Relief floods through me. "That sounds perfect."
"Good." He picks up his coffee. "Now we finish reviewing these financial records. We've got a case to close before we can focus on anything personal."
We return to work, but the tension between us has shifted. Still present, still complicated, but workable now. A partnership that might develop into something more if we're both brave enough to let it.
Shaw's hand finds mine across the table when I'm mid-sentence explaining a financial discrepancy. He just holds it there, his thumb brushing across my knuckles while I lose my train of thought completely.
"Keep going," he says, voice dropping to that register that makes my pulse kick up. "I'm listening."
I try. I stumble through the rest of the explanation while his thumb traces patterns on my palm. When I finish, he lifts my hand and presses a kiss to my knuckles before releasing it and returning to the spreadsheets like nothing happened.
My heart hammers against my ribs.
I pull up another file, trying to focus on numbers instead of the warmth still lingering where his lips touched my skin. Cascade Services' financial records fill my screen—quarterly reports, tax filings, bank statements obtained through my company's legal channels.
"Look at this." I turn my laptop so Shaw can see. "Cascade Services has been hemorrhaging money for eighteen months. Started right around when Brotherhood businesses stopped accepting their bids."
Shaw leans closer, scanning the numbers. "Revenue dropped forty percent in one year."
"And their debt increased proportionally. Bank loans, lines of credit maxed out, payment plans with suppliers." I follow the pattern with my finger. "Someone got desperate."
"Desperate enough to burn down the competition?"
"Maybe. Or desperate enough to hire someone who would." I switch to another spreadsheet. "But here's what's interesting—they're still making regular payments to a consulting firm. Five thousand a month, every month, even when they're missing payments to critical vendors."
Shaw goes still. "What consulting firm?"
"Hartley Industrial Consulting Services." I meet his eyes. "Registered only a year before the first fire."
Understanding flashes across his face. "Hartley could be the arsonist.”
"Or being paid to set the fires by someone who planned to frame him if things went wrong." My mind races through the implications. "Cascade Services creates a paper trail linkingpayments to Hartley's company. So when we investigate, we find Hartley's financial desperation, his grudge against the Brotherhood, and what looks like motive and means."
"While the actual mastermind stays clean."
"Exactly." I pull up more files, cross-referencing transaction dates. "Look—every payment from Cascade to Hartley's consulting firm happens within a week of a fire. Could be coincidence."
"Could be payment for services rendered." Shaw's expression goes hard. "We need to find out who owns Cascade Services. Who's actually making these decisions."
"Already working on it." My fingers fly across the keyboard. "Corporate structure is deliberately obscured. Multiple shell companies, registered agents instead of actual owners. Classic setup for hiding identity."
"How long to break through it?"
"Give me time."
