Chapter 15 Chapter 15

Chapter 15 Chapter 15


VALE POV

I shouldn't have kissed her.

The second my mouth touched hers, I knew it was a mistake. Not because it felt wrong. Because it felt too fucking right.

She tasted like winter and desperation, and when she kissed me back, when her hands fisted in my shirt, I forgot why I hated her. Forgot about revenge, about justice, about the contract that bound her to me.

All I felt was her.

I broke away first, breathing hard. She stared at me, lips swollen, eyes wide with something between shock and hunger.

"That was—"

"A mistake," I finished.

"I was going to say 'unprofessional.'"

"That too." I stepped back, putting necessary distance between us. "It won't happen again."

"Good."

"Good."

But neither of us moved. We stood there in the dark office, snow falling outside, the city lights reflecting off the glass like a thousand tiny lies.

"Why did you do it?" she asked softly. "If you hate me so much, why kiss me?"

"Because I wanted to see if you'd pull away."

"And?"

"You didn't."

Her cheeks flushed. "That doesn't mean anything."

"It means everything." I turned back to the computer, pulled up another file. If I kept looking at her, I'd do it again. "Catherine Marks wasn't the only one who disappeared. There were three others over the past five years. All connected to forensic investigations. All cases that went cold."

She moved beside me, careful not to touch. "Who were they?"

"A lab technician. A police photographer. A medical examiner's assistant." I clicked through the photos. Young faces, frozen in time. "All worked in the same jurisdiction. All had access to evidence."

"You think they found something."

"I think they knew something. Something worth killing for."

Iris studied the screen, her analytical mind already working. This was what she was good at. Piecing together fragments, finding patterns in chaos.

"The lab technician worked in blood analysis," she said. "The photographer specialized in crime scene documentation. The ME's assistant handled body identifications."

"And Catherine handled the money."

"Which means someone was manipulating evidence across multiple departments and paying people to look the other way." Her eyes met mine. "This is massive."

"And your father was in the middle of it."

She flinched but didn't argue. That's how I knew she was starting to believe me.

"There's more." I pulled up a bank statement. "These are your father's accounts. Look at the deposits."

She leaned closer, and I caught her scent. Something clean and sharp, like antiseptic and determination.

"These are huge," she whispered. "Where did this money come from?"

"That's what we need to find out." I closed the file. "But first, we need to deal with Sera."

"What about her?"

"She knows too much. And she's getting closer." I pulled out my phone, showed her a text. "She wants to meet. Tonight."

"Are you going?"

"We both are."

Her head snapped up. "No. Absolutely not."

"You don't have a choice."

"You can't just parade me around—"

"I'm not parading you anywhere. I'm using you as bait." I grabbed my coat. "Sera thinks she's the only one investigating. If she sees you with me, working with me, it'll throw her off. Make her wonder what you know."

"Or make me a target."

"You're already a target. You just don't know it yet." I held out her coat. "Put this on. We're leaving."

She didn't move. "What if I refuse?"

"Then I make a call, and Rowan finds out everything. Including the fact that you've been lying to him for two years."

Her face went pale. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

For a long moment, we stared at each other. A battle of wills, of pride, of something neither of us wanted to name.

Finally, she snatched the coat from my hands. "I hate you."

"You said that already."

"It bears repeating."

The restaurant was upscale, the kind of place where people whispered secrets over expensive wine. Sera was already there when we arrived, sitting in a corner booth with her phone out, probably recording.

She looked up as we approached, and I watched her expression shift from surprise to fury to something calculating.

"Vale." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I wasn't expecting company."

"This is Dr. Iris William. She's consulting on a case for me."

Sera's gaze slid to Iris, assessing, measuring. "The forensic anthropologist. I've heard about you."

"Have you?" Iris kept her voice neutral, but I could see the tension in her shoulders.

"Your work is impressive. Especially your ability to... solve difficult cases." The emphasis on 'solve' was deliberate. Sera knew something.

I slid into the booth, pulling Iris in beside me. Close enough that our thighs touched. She stiffened but didn't pull away.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked Sera.

"Your sister's case. I've made some progress." She pulled out a folder, slid it across the table. "New evidence."

I opened it. Crime scene photos, autopsy reports, witness statements. Some I recognized. Some I didn't.

"Where did you get these?"

"I have my sources." She leaned back, smug. "The question is, what are you willing to do for more?"

"What do you want?"

"An exclusive. Full access to your investigation. And..." Her eyes flicked to Iris. "The truth about that falsified DNA report from two years ago."

Iris went rigid beside me. I felt her hand clench on her lap.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

"Don't you?" Sera smiled. "Because I have a source who says otherwise. Someone who worked in your lab. Someone who saw you delete a DNA match."

The blood drained from Iris's face.

"Who?" I demanded.

"That's for me to know." Sera gathered her things. "But here's what I'll do. You give me the story, I'll keep quiet about Dr. William's little indiscretion. Deal?"

She stood, dropped cash on the table. "Think about it. You have twenty-four hours."

Then she was gone, leaving her perfume and threats behind.

Iris turned to me, eyes wild. "She knows. She fucking knows."

"Calm down."

"Calm down? She's going to expose everything!"

"Not if we expose her first." I pulled out my phone, texted Muhammad. "We're going to find out who her source is. And then we're going to make them wish they'd kept their mouth shut."

Iris grabbed my wrist. "You can't just hurt people."

"I'm not going to hurt them." I met her eyes. "I'm going to ruin them. There's a difference."

"Vale—"

"You wanted in on this, Iris. You signed the contract. Now

you deal with the consequences."

I stood, leaving her sitting there with fear and something else in her eyes.

Something that looked suspiciously like trust