Damien nods again. “That’s Charles Wayne.”
And Mateo cuts in, “That business card I had shown you in Marbella. That’s him. He’s a host, but something tells me he’s protected and knows a whole lot more. I don’t think he’d be stupid enough to lead the operation, but Sara could find out for us who he works for.”
I run my hands through my hair, pacing along the edge of the pool. I've just found her, truly found her, and the idea of her being in danger tears me.
“How the hell did she even get on their list?” I ask, my voice dangerously low.
Mateo flips open the folder, revealing several photographs. “From what we can tell, they scout at exclusive events. Remember the new club opening she attended with her friends a few weeks ago? The sex club one we attended with you? Well Charles is the owner. I'm guessing that's how they spotted her."
“She already had a stalker long before that event, and she grew up here. Everyone knows her and her friends in the village, especially in the night life, they're practically famous… that’s not how she got on their list. It’s something else.” I close my eyes, massaging my temples.
“There's something she's not telling me.” The realization hits me with the force of a physical blow. The timeline doesn't add up. The stalker, the club, the invitation—it's all connected in ways I haven't pieced together yet. And Sara's at the center of it.
“What exactly am I hiding from you, Liam?” Sara steps outside. I hadn’t even heard her slide the patio doors open, her arms crossed defensively over her chest.
I whip around to see her barefoot on the grass wearing nothing but my shirt from last night. The sight of her would normally send heat through my veins, but right now, all I can register is the look on her face of a mixture of determination, and everything that I want to keep as mine.
“Sara,” I start, but she holds up her hand, silencing me.
She looks over Damien and Mateo and back to me. “You do realize that I’m the one who told you about the briefcase I found in Joe’s room.”
“Sara,” I say, softer this time, taking a step toward her. “Come here.”
She hesitates, her fingers gripping the hem of my shirt she’s wearing. I can see the conflict in her eyes to keep her distance. “Please.” I add, extending my hand to her.
After what feels like an eternity, she moves toward me. I close the distance between us in two strides, pulling her against my chest, my arms wrapping around her protectively.
“Whatever this is,” I murmur against her hair, “we'll figure it out together. I promise.”
She stays stiff in my arms for a moment, her breathing shallow against my chest. I'm aware of Damien and Mateo watching us,but my focus narrows to the woman in my arms, the tremor in her body betraying her outward composure.
“I need a minute with her,” I say without looking at them. “Alone.”
I hear Damien shift, probably ready to argue about the urgency of the situation, but Mateo murmurs something to him and they retreat inside as the glass door slides shut behind them.
I ease back to look at her face, keeping her within the circle of my arms. The morning light catches in her eyes, turning them a brighter brown than usual. They're guarded now, wary in a way that makes my chest ache.
“Baby,” I say, keeping my voice gentle, “I need you to be honest with me. If there’s anything you know, anything at all. Now’s the time to tell me.”
Her lips part but no sound comes out of them.
“Starting with how you got on that boat.”
Her eyes meet mine, and she takes a deep breath. “It was Mimi,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “She got an invitation through some people she knows, and she said she had played once.”
I keep my face carefully neutral, though my heart is hammering against my ribs at the reckless idea. “Go on.”
“I asked her if she knew about poker games in town, after I found Joe’s briefcase. Liam, I knew something wasn’t right,” her words tumble out faster now, like she's been holding them back too long. “She warned me, but I insisted, and she put me down under her name.”
“You went as Mimi?” I clarify, my mind already racing.
Sara nods, then shakes her head in frustration. “That was the plan, but then she wrote my name down on the list.”
My entire body goes rigid, I feel my jaw locking, teeth grinding as I imagine getting my hands around her throat. “Why the hell would she do that?” I growl.
“I don’t know why! Maybe she realized it was pointless and they’d know who I was, anyway.” She grabs my arm, her fingers digging into my skin with surprising strength. “Please, she doesn’t know that some of the girls are being trafficked!”
I turn to her, incredulous. “Are you sure she didn’t know? She took you to a trafficking operation, Sara. She introduced you by your real name and then left you there?”
