Emily’s blood turned to ice. Though her knees nearly buckled, she forced herself to keep walking—slow, steady, invisible.
He sounded straight out of a mob movie. And he had to be talking about Cari.
She slipped outside, heart pounding, and headed toward the catering van.
“I don’t know how much you heard of that conversation,” she told the team, short of breath as she fast-walked, just short of running. “I was several feet away, but I think I just overheard the trafficking boss. Boss being the pivotal word.”
Not getting a roger, a 10-4, or something that told her Devil’s team had caught the exchange was maddening. She also wanted to put distance between herself and these scumbags—pimps to the ultra-wealthy—men with no qualms about selling young women into sexual slavery.
But she couldn’t just run and hide. Bringing these bastards down was what her dad and Ethan had given their lives for, and why she was here tonight. Beth Ann, and the other girls, were counting on someone to save them.
Just like Mia, she needed a minute. She climbed into the front seat of the van, enclosing herself in silence. Then she closed her eyes, trying to collect herself, her hands clenched in tight fists to still their shaking.
In the quiet, a buzzing sounded, and something lit up at her feet. She looked down. A phone was sticking out from under the seat.
She picked it up. The screen was still lit. Texts scrolled in quick succession:
Inventory confirmed. Fresh batch ready.
Her stomach dropped.
Footsteps crunched outside. She shoved the phone under the seat and scrambled to the rear, grabbing a stack of trays just as the door yanked open.
She jumped. “Benny. You scared the life out of me.”
He frowned, eyes scanning the van. “What are you doing? I thought you were serving in the ballroom?”
“I was, but the crowd has thinned. People are heading out. I thought I’d get started packing up. I’m beat.”
He hesitated. “The others will be heading out soon.” But he didn’t move. Just kept looking around.
As a distraction, she stated the obvious. “You seem tense. Is something wrong?”
He went quiet—jittery. Then crouched, checking under the seats. She heard a faint scraping sound.
He stood, his hand slipping from his pocket. “Nope. I’m good.”
The side door slid open. Two crew members started loading up, joking and laughing. Emily forced a smile and helped as slowly more and more of the staff trickled out.
Thirty minutes later, near midnight, they were on their way back to Gold Coast, Benny, the human trafficker in the passenger seat. It was all she could do not to throw up.
***
In the surveillance van, Alec and Leland sat with their eyes locked on the monitors. The feed from Gold Coast showed Emily’s car pulling out of the lot, headlights cutting through the dark.
“She’s clear,” Leland said, voice tight.
Alec didn’t answer. His jaw clenched, fingers twitching on his thigh. He felt wired, raw, barely holding it together.
Callan had tapped into the estate’s security feeds, giving them eyes on Emily all night. Dev, Rhys, and Mateo had been outside, watching the perimeter. They had it contained. No one was coming or going without them knowing.
Still, Leland had to call Alec down more than once.
First, when Regina handed Emily the skimpy outfit. Then, after she got rattled over a conversation their equipment hadn’t picked up. And again, when Benny approached the van.
They’d had her covered and she’d made it out without a hitch. But Alec hadn’t felt it. Not really.
He watched the GPS dot blink closer. Emily was on her way.
