Page 70 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

"You're really going to investigate me."

"I'm going to investigate everyone. You, Zach, the mayor, Arina, every fucking person who might be connected to this mess. I'm going to turn over every rock and shine a light into every dark corner until I find the truth."

"And if the truth is that I'm innocent?"

"Then you'll be safe." I finally look up from my phone, meeting her eyes across the table. "And if you're not innocent, you'll wish you'd never heard of any of us."

The threat hangs in the air between us, cold and clear. Marla doesn't flinch. She holds my gaze, her chin lifted in defiance, and I feel that uncomfortable tightness in my chest again.

She's either the best liar I've ever met or she's exactly what she appears to be—a woman who got caught up in something far bigger and more dangerous than she ever imagined.

I need to know which.

The back door opens and Russ steps inside, his expression grim. "We've got a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"The kind that requires all three of us." He glances at Marla, then back at me. "Now."

I stand, draining the last of my coffee. Marla watches me with those wide blue eyes, and I can see the questions forming on her lips. But I don't have time for questions right now.

"Stay inside," I tell her. "Lock the doors after we leave. Don't open them for anyone except us."

"Alex—"

"I mean it, Marla. No one."

I follow Russ outside before she can argue, pulling the door closed behind me. Nick is standing near the treeline, his phone pressed to his ear, his expression darker than I've seen it in years.

This is bad. Whatever this is, it's bad.

I'm going to find out everything about Marla Paddington's past, starting today.

29

MARLA

The three men come back inside less than ten minutes later. Whatever conversation happened outside has shifted them into full business mode, and suddenly my small home feels like a command center for organized crime.

Nick's phone rings first. He answers without greeting, his expression hardening as he listens. "How many units?" A pause. "Fuck. Keep eyes on the situation and report back every thirty minutes."

He ends the call and immediately dials another number while moving toward my kitchen table. "I need current patrol schedules for the port district. Yes, now."

I watch him spread maps and shipping schedules across the surface, his green eyes scanning documents with intense focus. His movements are efficient and controlled, every gesture deliberate. This is Nick in his element, commanding and cold.

Russ's phone buzzes next. He steps toward the window, his light eyes scanning the treeline outside as his voice drops low. "What do you mean delayed? I don't give a shit about weather conditions. Those shipments were supposed to arrive yesterday."

The playful warmth that usually radiates from him is gone. His shoulders are tense, his jaw tight, and there's a hardness in his expression that sends goosebumps down my spine.

Alex moves through my cottage like he owns it, checking the locks on my front door, testing the windows, his own phone pressed to his ear. "Increase security on all primary routes. I want eyes on every access point."

I stand frozen near the kitchen counter, watching the controlled chaos unfold around me. These aren't the men who were in my bed this morning. These are the dangerous criminals Sharon warned me about, the ones who run illegal operations and pay off politicians and make people disappear.

The mayor revelation is still sitting heavy in my chest, making it hard to breathe. The man who gave his son the power to stalk me without consequences and has been taking money from these men for years. The corruption runs so deep I can't even process the full scope of it.

Nick's phone rings again. "Talk to me." He listens, his jaw tightening. "Pull everyone back from the north dock."

"What's happening?" I ask quietly, but no one answers.