He’d hoped she was avoiding him. It had been easier that way. Wishful thinking was the same thing, right?

Aslan blew on his tea, studying it a moment. When she answered in the affirmative, his gaze was flat. This was where he feigned shock if he wasn’t so busy deciding which petty criminals he cared the least for.

“I’m more worried for them than you,” he shrugged. “I can give you leads … but much of this comes down to flying or falling. A lot of cheating wives would probably talk more freely to you. Occasionally, some of the businessmen want dirt on each other and will pay a pretty bit, too.”

He folded his hands behind his head, looking to the ceiling. Did he send her into potentially violent cases?

“Think you can let cheating wives and their brothel-sniffing husbands live long enough to collect?”