Her eyes blaze. “Sin.”
“Cal said stay put,” I tell her. “They have a team moving. If you run back in hot, you give him warning and you put yourself in reach.”
Rowan’s chest rises and falls fast. She looks like she wants to fight me. Then she sees my face. I’m not fighting her to control her. I’m fighting her to keep her alive.
Her shoulders sag a fraction. “I hate this.”
“I know,” I say.
She pulls her wrist free slowly, not yanking, and paces two steps before stopping. Her hands curl into fists at her sides. “Blackmail,” she says, spitting the word like poison. “So the corporation is that scared.”
“They should be,” I say. “Your story is real. And it hurts them.”
Rowan turns back to me. “What happens now?”
“Cal’s team gathers evidence,” I say. “They secure your boss, secure the leverage file, and build a clean case. Then we decide what gets published and when.”
Rowan’s eyes sharpen. “We publish.”
“Yes,” I agree. “But we do it smart. Not emotional.”
She exhales hard, then nods once. “Fine. Smart.”
I pick up my phone again. “I need to call Nash. Update him. If this isn’t tied to our family case, it matters. It changes how we move.”
Rowan watches me, still pale, but steadier now. “Tell him to be careful.”
“I will.”
I step toward the kitchen for a bit of quiet and dial.
Nash answers immediately. “Sin.”
“We got confirmation on Rowan’s case,” I say. “It’s not random. It’s her workplace.”
Nash’s voice sharpens. “Inside job.”
“Yes. Editor in chief. He pushed spyware to her phone through internal systems. He’s being blackmailed by the corporation she’s investigating. Corporate security contractor handled intimidation.”
There’s a pause on the line, then Nash exhales. “That’s dirty.”
“Blackmail makes people stupid,” I say.
“It does. So, we’re moving on a lead tomorrow morning,” Nash tells me. “The Charleston box turned into a name. Not Dad yet, but someone tied to Shaw’s old network. A Laurel Pike. Some sheriff out west. We’re going early.”
My gut tightens. “Be careful.”
Nash gives a low grunt. “Always.”
“Don’t underestimate them,” I say. “If Shaw’s involved, this isn’t some sloppy op.”
“I know,” Nash says. “You holding up.”
I glance back into the living room. Rowan stands by the couch, arms wrapped around herself, staring at nothing. She looksfurious and wounded at the same time. Like betrayal has teeth. And she looks so damn brave it hurts. “I’m good,” I tell Nash, because the alternative is admitting I’m not sure how to keep her safe from a man she trusted. “I’ll keep you posted if anything changes.”
“Copy,” Nash says. “And Sin.”
“What?”
