I understand scars. I appreciate them.
That’s why everything is so white. So that the blood will stand out.
Shuddering, I kiss her again. “No matter what.”
I’m watching the sun sink lower in the horizon when the key in the door’s lock turns and I frantically shove Murder Mittens under the bed.
It’s Russo with a dinner tray. A new guard I haven’t seen before stands at the open door. “You need to eat and get cleaned up,” she says, puttingthe tray on the table by the window. I glance down quickly to make sure MM’s tail isn’t poking out from under the bed. Crossing over to the armoire, she unlocks it and pulls out a long white dress, thin silk with delicate straps that tie into a halter neck and a slit up the side.
“I’m not putting that on,” I say. “I don’t know what sick game your buddy Xavier’s into, but I’m not playing.”
“Eat your dinner. Take a shower. Get dressed.” She’s speaking slowly, like you would to a slightly dim child. “No underwear.”
I know women aren’t more noble than men. Not in the crime world. Most brothels are run by women, and they play a key role in human trafficking. But Russo isstandinghere, telling me to get ready for something bad. For something a man will do to me that’s unspeakable.
“Is this really how you envisioned your life going?” I whisper. “You’re strong, obviously smart. You know what he’s going to do to me.”
“Oh, it’s not rape,” she says indifferently. “Personally, I think it’s much worse, but everyone’s breaking point is different. You might survive it for a while.”
I feel hot, then cold, dizzy, a chilly sweat runs down my back. “Is this who you really are?”
Examining me for another moment, she shrugs. “Apparently so.”
The door shuts behind her and I close my hand over Morgan’s necklace tightly. Wallace will find me. He will.
Wallace…
“I know where she is.”
There are twenty people crowded into the great room, Alec, Michael, Roman and Dmitri, Cormac and Dougal… and standing in front of me, Morgan, vibrating with fury.
I’m staring down at my mobile and the red dot on my screen pulses tauntingly. “Just outside of Windsor. She’s being held in one of those old estates with a feck tonne of land surrounding it.”
“How do you know?” Morgan grabs my wrist, trying to look at the screen.
“I put a tracker in the necklace ye gave her.” I look at her and there’s something in my expression that makes her flinch. “Ye told her to never take it off.”
Kai and Logan burst into the room. “We’re here. With guns,” Kai pants. “Catch us up.”
Cormac does the job for me. “Someone used an AI app to recreate the surgeon’s voice who’s caring for Alastair. It’s a voice Scarlett would recognize. He told her that Alastair had regainedconsciousness. She was so excited that her bodyguard barely had time to scramble together a security unit for the trip.
“They were…” he gives me an empathetic glance, “they were hit ten minutes from the clinic. An armored truck crashed into her car, killed the driver and her body guard while two other vehicles shot up the chase car. Three of the men look like they’ll make it. It took less than two minutes.”
“Feck,” I rub my eyes. “Gio, all those men.”
“If you know where she is, then let’s fucking go!” Morgan pulls at her hair. “Why are you standing here?”
“Our tech team is going through all the city records, trying to find a layout of the house,” Alec says. “They’ve gone through all the historical records, applications for new remodeling permits, there’s nothing. The house is surrounded by nearly a kilometer of bare ground. No trees, no kind of cover.”
“We can try an aerial assault,” Michael runs his hands through his hair. “Flashbang grenades. We’ll run a thermal scan first to see where everyone is. Attack, disorient, extract.”
“Kholodov has to know it won’t take long for you to find him, even if he doesn’t know about the tracker,” Dmitri says gravely. “He can’t getwhat he wants - his American empire - without Scarlett. He’s going to target all his manpower on killing you first.” Blowing out a deep breath, he looks me in the eye. “But if he can’t, he’s… Kholodov is different. He’ll kill her if you can’t get to her in time. He’d rather die himself than lose the game.”
“Who can we take from his bratva to hold hostage?” I say, staring out the window. The flame twirling inside me is pushing, looking for weak places to push through. It wants to set the world on fire. “Fecking take them all. His sisters, brothers. Is his mother alive?”
“He doesn’t give a shit about them,” Roman says bleakly. “He’s killed half of them himself.”
No time, no time notimenotime…
