Page 20

Harlow

The Nevada Gaming Commission building stretched skyward, its glass facade reflecting the merciless morning sun. In my parked Audi, I gripped the steering wheel, struggling to regulate my breathing.

Three years building an impeccable reputation. A lifetime devoted to following rules, maintaining boundaries, enforcing standards that never bent. Now everything teetered on the precipice because of one reckless night that had somehow evolved into something I couldn't—didn't want to—abandon.

Easton's unfinished declaration from last night echoed in my mind. I'm falling in love with you, Harlow.

The elevator doors had parted before I could respond, reality intruding on a moment that had irrevocably shifted the landscape between us. Now, facing a hearing that might demolish my career, my mind fixated not on professional survival but on words left unspoken.

The rearview mirror reflected a woman armored for battle—hair disciplined into a tight bun, the charcoal suit I'd selected specifically for its authoritative cut. The quintessential Investigator Clarke, whose judgment had never been questioned.

Until now.

My phone lit with Easton's message: Whatever happens, we face it together. I meant what I said last night.

Heat bloomed beneath my ribs. Inhaling deeply, I stepped from the car and approached the building that had once represented my unwavering moral compass. The needle no longer pointed true north.

***

Tension saturated the commission hearing room. The imposing cherrywood table dominated the space, with three commissioners arranged at one end like a tribunal. In many ways, this was precisely that.

Commissioner Frank Watts occupied the center position, silver hair and rigid posture embodying three decades of uncompromising regulation.

On his flanks sat Commissioner Josephine Diaz, calculating political advantages behind her neutral expression, and Commissioner Naomi Montgomery, whose reform-minded reputation had earned her both admirers and detractors.

My supervisor Camilla Duarte perched at a side table, her countenance revealing nothing about where her allegiances might fall today.

Staff members lined the paneled walls like spectators at a gladiatorial match, their presence guaranteeing that whatever transpired would saturate commission gossip for months.

I'd nearly reached my designated seat when Enzo Ricci entered, silver hair gleaming under the recessed lighting, leather portfolio clutched like a weapon. The atmosphere calcified, charged with the understanding that this was no routine review—this was warfare.

"Investigator Clarke." Watts's voice sliced through the murmurs. "This emergency session addresses concerns regarding your objectivity in the Jade Petal licensing review. Do you have any preliminary statement?"

Rising, I squared my shoulders and met his gaze without flinching. "Only that I welcome this opportunity to present the complete context of my investigative approach. The commission deserves absolute transparency, which I'm prepared to provide."

A curt nod. "Proceed with the timeline of your involvement."

For thirty minutes, I methodically deconstructed my investigation—from initial inspection through sabotage discovery to embezzlement identification.

Supporting documentation, access logs, and financial analyses bolstered each finding, emphasizing how collaboration had uncovered violations traditional methods would have missed.

"This partnership model facilitated immediate detection of compliance issues," I explained, directing attention to comparative data. "Our intervention prevented customer exposure to compromised systems and preserved gaming integrity."

Commissioner Montgomery leaned forward. "These outcomes are remarkable. You're suggesting direct engagement with management enhanced oversight rather than compromising it?"

"The evidence supports that conclusion. Maintaining system access while preserving investigative independence revealed sabotage patterns that might have remained hidden until after opening."

Watts cleared his throat, skepticism etched into every facial line. "We must address the elephant in the room." He nodded toward Enzo, who rose with theatrical precision.

"Thank you, Commissioner." Enzo's voice carried the practiced confidence of a man anticipating victory.

His portfolio opened to reveal glossy surveillance photographs.

"While Investigator Clarke presents an innovative theoretical model, these images raise profound questions about her actual independence. "

He distributed the photos—the champagne dress at the gala, dancing with Easton. Exiting the Jade Petal with his hand guiding me. Entering the chapel with our bodies intertwined.

My lungs seized.

"As demonstrated," Enzo continued, satisfaction threading his tone, "the relationship between the investigator and her subject extends well beyond professional parameters."

The room dissolved into whispers. Diaz examined the photos with arched brows, while Montgomery's forehead creased thoughtfully. Only Watts maintained his stoic demeanor, though his jaw tightened perceptibly.

"Investigator Clarke," he said, voice slicing through the commotion, "explain these images."

I inhaled deliberately, dismissing the whispers and focusing exclusively on the commissioners.

"Mr. Ricci presents a deliberately curated narrative designed to undermine legitimate regulatory work.

Yes, I attended the Jade Petal's preview gala—at the commission's explicit request to observe operational protocols.

And yes, Mr. Hardwick and I established a working relationship that facilitated effective investigation of internal sabotage. "

"A 'working relationship' including wedding chapel visits?" Enzo interjected, sliding forward the most damning image.

A peculiar calm descended over me. The worst had happened—our secret exposed—yet I felt strangely emancipated. The era of half-truths had concluded.

"What Mr. Ricci conveniently omits," I stated evenly, "is that these images were captured during a coordinated campaign to sabotage the Jade Petal's licensing. A campaign that included bribing Bryson Delacroix to embezzle funds and compromise gaming equipment."

I distributed my counter-evidence—Bryce's signed confession, financial trails connecting to Enzo's Mirage Continental, and security logs documenting deliberate tampering.

"My relationship with Mr. Hardwick evolved during our investigation of this sabotage.

This approach is undeniably unconventional.

However, I would urge the commission to evaluate my work based on results rather than appearances.

This collaborative model uncovered criminal activity that traditional methods would likely have overlooked. "

Montgomery examined the evidence, appreciation kindling in her expression. "These findings are compelling. And Mr. Delacroix's confession explicitly implicates Mr. Ricci in orchestrating the sabotage?"

"It does, Commissioner. Which invites scrutiny of Mr. Ricci's motives in presenting these surveillance photos today."

Enzo's composed facade fractured. "These allegations are absurd and defamatory—"

"They're documented and verified," I countered, matching his intensity. "Just as your photos confirm my presence at the gala, these financial records confirm your payments to Mr. Delacroix."

The debate intensified, commissioners firing questions from multiple angles. Throughout, I maintained my composure while acknowledging the evolution of my relationship with Easton—emphasizing that our personal connection developed after uncovering the sabotage, not before.

As the commissioners conferred in hushed tones, my thoughts circled back to Easton's unfinished declaration.

I'm falling in love with you, Harlow. Sitting there with my professional existence in jeopardy, the realization crystallized: what I hadn't yet told him mattered more than whatever verdict awaited me.

Commissioner Watts straightened, commanding attention. "The commission finds that while Investigator Clarke's methods were unorthodox, the results appear substantial and valid. We will approve the Jade Petal's licensing application, contingent on independent verification of the sabotage evidence."

Commissioner Diaz added, "However, we must note concerns about appearances. Future investigations should establish clearer boundaries between personal and professional interactions."

Commissioner Montgomery concluded with unexpected advocacy: "I believe this collaborative model warrants further exploration, with appropriate guidelines. Investigator Clarke's approach has produced significant results deserving additional study."

Relief cascaded through me but felt curiously secondary to the epiphany that had solidified during the hearing: my career, while significant, paled compared to what—who—awaited me beyond these walls.

***

"Investigator Clarke, a moment."

Camilla intercepted me as I gathered my materials. The room had emptied, commissioners and observers filtering out with varying degrees of satisfaction or disappointment.

"Impressive performance," she remarked, securing the door. "You transformed what should have been career immolation into a methodology review."

"I presented the facts, Camilla. The evidence speaks for itself."

"Indeed." Her appraisal carried newfound respect. "Which explains the commission's proposal. They want you to develop formal guidelines for this 'collaborative oversight' approach—a standardized methodology for potential division-wide implementation."

Surprise momentarily silenced me. "They want to adopt the model?"

"The governor's office is particularly interested. 'Business-friendly regulation' creates compelling campaign rhetoric." She extended a folder. "The Jade Petal's final licensing approval. Signed and expedited."

I accepted the document, feeling its significance—not merely for Easton, but for regulatory innovation itself.

"Thank you."