Chapter 123
Rowan's POV
Morning light caught the edge of my coffee cup. I'd been up since five, reviewing Jack's preliminary report on the break-in. Lena was still asleep—or pretending to be. I'd learned not to push.
My phone buzzed. Jack.
"Hold on." I crossed to Lena's bedroom door, knocked softly. "Jack's calling. Do you want to hear this?"
Silence. Then: "Yes."
She emerged thirty seconds later, wrapped in an oversized sweater, hair pulled back. Her eyes were clearer than yesterday, but shadows still lived beneath them.
We settled in the study. I put the phone on speaker.
"Morning." Jack's voice came through crisp, professional. "I've got updates on the intrusion."
Lena pulled her chair closer to the desk. I noticed her hands were steady.
"Go ahead," I said.
"The woman who broke in—we've identified her. Goes by the name Catherine Walsh, but that's an alias. She's a professional problem-solver, been doing this kind of work for over a decade."
I felt Lena tense beside me. "Hired by who?"
"That's where it gets complicated." Jack's tone shifted, cautious. "She was contracted through a company called Clearwater Services. They operate out of Miami, technically legal—they provide 'risk management' and 'asset protection' for high-net-worth clients."
"Technically legal," I repeated. "Meaning they're a front."
"Exactly. They specialize in... let's call it discretion. If you need something handled quietly, they're who you call. The kind of outfit that never leaves fingerprints."
Lena leaned forward. "And the money trail?"
"That's what took time." Jack paused, and I heard papers rustling. "Clearwater's good at covering tracks. Multiple shell companies, layered offshore accounts. But we found anomalies in their banking records—large transfers from a parent organization."
My jaw tightened. "Which one?"
"Silverpine Advisory Group."
The name hung in the air like a curse.
"Based in Zurich," Jack continued. "They're the real players. Clearwater's just a branch. Silverpine handles... everything. Asset concealment, identity fabrication, 'problem elimination.' They're a one-stop shop for people who can afford to make inconvenient situations disappear."
I watched Lena's face drain of color. Her hand moved to her throat, fingers pressing against her pulse point.
"Zurich," she whispered.
I reached for her hand. She didn't pull away.
"Jack," I said, keeping my voice level. "How big is this network?"
"Bigger than we thought." He exhaled slowly. "I've been cross-referencing known cases. Silverpine's been linked to everything from corporate espionage to witness intimidation. They've been operating for at least fifteen years, servicing clients across Europe and North America. The kind of organization that has lawyers, fixers, and enforcement all in one package."
Lena's fingers tightened around mine. "And Marcus?"
"Our intelligence suggests he's still in Switzerland. Silverpine's likely providing him with legal protection and logistical support. They're good at keeping people invisible when they need to be."
"How do we break through?" Her voice was quiet but steady.
Jack hesitated. "That's the challenge. Silverpine has sophisticated counter-surveillance measures. They've anticipated people trying to trace them before. But we're not giving up."
"Good." I leaned back in my chair, mind already calculating. "Keep digging. I don't care what it costs."
"Understood. There's one more thing." Jack's tone changed, almost apologetic. "We found evidence of multiple payments from Silverpine to Clearwater over the past six months. The timing aligns with... other incidents."
Lena closed her eyes. "The threatening messages. The apartment break-in."
"Most likely, yes."
The room fell silent except for the faint hum of the laptop fan.
"Anything else?" I asked.
"Not yet. But I'll keep you posted the second something breaks."
"Do that."
I ended the call. Lena sat motionless, staring at the desk.
"A whole organization," she said finally. "Not just Marcus. A whole system designed to..."
"To protect people like him." I turned to face her. "But systems have weaknesses. We'll find them."
She looked at me, and something shifted in her expression—not quite hope, but determination. "I want to help with the investigation. From a legal angle. There has to be a way to expose them."
I studied her carefully. She was exhausted, traumatized, still healing. But I recognized that look. She needed this. Needed to feel like she was fighting back, not just surviving.
"Alright," I said. "But we do this together. And if it gets too heavy—"
"I'll tell you." She met my eyes. "I promise."
---
We worked through the morning, side by side in the study.
Lena pulled up everything Alexander had sent—corporate filings, financial records, patterns of suspicious transactions. She moved methodically, lawyer instincts kicking in despite the exhaustion I could see pulling at her shoulders.
I focused on the international angle, reaching out to contacts in Europe. People who owed me favors. People who knew how to navigate the grey areas between legal and criminal.
The silence between us was different now. Not comfortable, exactly, but... purposeful. Like we were both building something, brick by careful brick.
Around noon, Lena pushed back from her laptop. "Silverpine uses the same law firm in multiple jurisdictions. That's unusual—it creates vulnerability."
I glanced over. "How?"
"Conflicts of interest. If they're representing clients with opposing interests, there's leverage." She pulled up a spreadsheet, highlighted several rows. "See these filing dates? Same month, different subsidiaries. If we can prove they're knowingly concealing criminal activity..."
"We can force disclosure." I felt a grim satisfaction settle in my chest. "You're right. That's an opening."
She nodded, already typing notes. "I need to cross-reference with international bar regulations. See if there's precedent."
"I'll get you access to our legal database."
"Thank you."
The hours blurred. Martha brought sandwiches we barely touched. Lena's focus was absolute, the kind of concentration I'd seen in boardrooms when she was dismantling an opponent's argument.
She was finding her way back. Not healed, not whole yet—but fighting.
Around four, my phone buzzed with a text from Jack: Making progress on Zurich angle. Will update soon.
Lena saw me reading it. "Good news?"
"Progress. Jack's persistent."
She almost smiled. "I noticed."
I set the phone down, turned to look at her properly. Her hair had fallen loose from its tie, and there were ink smudges on her fingers from the notes she'd been taking. She looked exhausted and fierce and so damn determined it made my chest ache.
"You should rest," I said quietly.
"In a minute." She didn't look up from her screen. "I want to finish mapping these corporate connections first."
"Lena—"
"I know." She finally met my eyes. "I know I need to pace myself. But this... this is something I can control. And I need that right now."
I understood. God, I understood.
"Alright. But when you're ready to stop—"
"You'll be here."
"I'll be here."
---
By evening, we had a preliminary strategy mapped out. Weak points in Silverpine's structure. Jurisdictions where we could apply pressure. Names of lawyers who might crack under investigation.
It wasn't enough to bring them down. Not yet. But it was a start.
Lena saved her work, closed her laptop with careful precision. "I need to call Diana."
I raised an eyebrow. "Your partner?"
"She has experience with international cases. And..." Lena hesitated. "She'll want to help."
"Then call her."
Lena reached for her phone, then paused. Looked at me. "Thank you. For letting me do this."
"You don't need my permission."
"I know. But..." She chose her words carefully. "It helps. Having you here. Knowing I'm not doing this alone."
Something tight in my chest loosened. "You're not. Not anymore."
She held my gaze a moment longer, then nodded and stepped into the next room to make her call.
I stayed at the desk, staring at the evidence we'd compiled. Somewhere in Zurich, Marcus thought he was safe. Thought Silverpine's walls were high enough to protect him.
He was wrong.
And when we finally broke through—and we would—I'd make sure he understood exactly what he'd lost.
Not just his freedom.
Everything.
---