His mouth twisted with rage and triumph.
"You've fallen out of favor, green eyes," he whispered, almost gleeful. "Now you'll suffer for every lie, deception and secret you thought you could hide from me."
He threw John out in a fit of rage and ordered Becca to be taken away to the cottages by the guard. She was wailing by the time the door shut behind her, leaving me alone with this monster. I could barely breathe, my body trembling so hard I nearly collapsed. His bark made me jump.
"Suck it, bitch. Don't stop until I tell you to."
With shaking hands, I pulled him free, my stomach twisting and the bile rising in my throat. Tears blurred my vision as I obeyed, praying to God that Atlas was closer to getting us out of this fucking living hell, because tonight, I might die at the hands of this lunatic.
Chapter 20
The hunt
Atlas
I woke up buzzing, adrenaline surging through my veins. Tonight was the masquerade, and I couldn't sit still if I tried. My instincts screamed for action. Kitten and Becca were inside that mansion, suffering. Tonight, I'll put an end to it.
When Jacob and I dragged ourselves back to this shitty hotel last night, Yara was waiting. She took the drugged girl we'd pulled out of Vargas's house and brought her safely to my place. Once the girl sobered up, she told Yara she was twenty-two and from Tijuana.
She'd been on her own since she was seventeen—easy prey for a smooth-talking bastard who promised her a better life. Instead, she ended up in one of Hector'scottages, passed around like free candy for two years, turning her into a broken soul. She had no one to go back to. No family. No home…nothing. I had Yara buy her some clothes, because all the others had gone to Hector's other victims.
Yara was instructed to get in touch with the Human Trafficking Salvation Army in Mexico. They work with trafficked victims to get them back on their feet and find their way back to their communities.
This will be the standard procedure for all the victims who have no family to go home to.
I hadn't touched the surveillance feeds since yesterday. My brother had his eye on the security cameras, but was instructed not to discuss it with me unless Kit's life was in danger. Jacob was right. Watching what those animals did to Kitlyn would rip my focus to shreds, and I couldn't afford that. None of us could. I needed my mind clear, my hands steady and my rage controlled, especially tonight.
Our CIA team was already in place. Thirty men would be stationed in the shadows around Hector's property. Away from the cameras and the guards. They'd coordinated with the Mexican government for airport clearance, tactical authority, and the green light to take Hector's empire down.
The government wanted him gone, but they didn't have the manpower or the integrity. Too many were bought off, their silence secured with Hector's blood money. That was about to change. Once Hector was removed from the equation, the rest of the scum would be gone with him.
Tonight wouldn't be about politics or power plays. It was about Kitlyn, Becca and all the other victims living in that house of hell. Hector's mansion was a fortress with fifteen guards on rotation, alarms wired into every entry. A perimeter crawling with men who'd kill without hesitation.
None of that mattered. Jacob and I had our way in. We'd bled the two scumbags in Mexico City for their invitations and their identities. It's a good thing Hector didn't know all these men personally. He's hardly met any of them, which worked out well given my height. Vargas was considerably shorter. Every attendee tonight were just names on a roster; the women were sent or sold to these men; money was exchanged; and that was the end of the transaction.
With our masks in place, suits tailored to perfection, we'd blend right into Hector's cesspool of wealthy predators. Wolves among wolves. I stood in front of the mirror now, pulling the black tie tight against my collar, the mask waiting on the table beside me. My reflection looked calm, but I could feel my wrath brewing underneath, rattling its cage, looking for an escape.
Tonight, Hector's walls would fall.
Tonight, I'd take what is mine back!
I adjusted the cuffs of my shirt and slid the mask into the inner pocket of my jacket. The disguise without the mask felt unnatural. Too polished and too clean for what and who I was. But tonight wasn't about me. This was about getting close enough to Hector to put a bullet in his head if I had to, or to take him back to my mansionand deal with him there. No matter the outcome, there was one goal to accomplish: walking Kitlyn and Becca out alive.
Jacob was already dressed, his black suit crisp, his mask, a grotesque werewolf, resting in his lap. He polished his pistol with steady hands, slipping a silencer on before tucking it into the hidden holster inside his jacket. He looked like he was going to a business gala instead of walking into a slaughterhouse. We both did.
He looked at me with a crooked grin spread across his lips.
"You're ready and sure about the entire operation?"
I smirked, but not in a humorous way.
"When have I ever not been?"
He let out a dry chuckle. 'Fair point. Just remember, it's not just about detaining or killing Hector tonight. It's about getting the girls out safely. If you go off script, you'll risk everything."
I met his stare, cold and piercing. "We'll get the girls to safety. Hector will die when I'm ready to make him die."
Before Jacob could reply, my cell buzzed. Zach's voice came through the speaker, calm but with that edge of static from hacking through encrypted channels.
