Page 282 of Vicious Temptation

“No. I read the report on what happened to your girl, and I just want you to know that despite what it says, I believe you. I did some digging, and that intel was bogus. Grey only followed through to get in good with the commander. I would’ve told him to shove it, too.”

I drag a hand over my face and immediately regret it when my palm catches the cut beneath my eyebrow. The sharp sting gives way to warmth on my skin, and I pull my hand away to find fresh blood on my fingers.

“Ryan, I fucked up. I fucked up the one thing in this world I give a damn about, and all I can do now is try to fix it.” I wipe the blood off my pants. “Even if she never forgives me, I need to know she’s safe.”

Ryan goes quiet, and I can only imagine what he’s making of what I just said. With Elena missing, I don’t have time to explain any of it.

“You love her?”

“More than you could possibly understand.”

I end the call before he can say anything else, then climb out of the SUV. The movement tugs at my stitches, forcing me to brace a hand against the door until the pain eases enough to move.

Making my way through the garage to a side entrance, I pull my badge from my pocket. The bandages around my fingers make it harder to grip, but I manage to swipe it through the reader and wait to see whether Elena has revoked my access.

A quiet chime, and the panel flashes green. At least one thing is going my way.

Security is posted throughout the building, and I make a mental note of every position as I pass. I didn’t walk in here expecting to need an escape route, but years with Helios taught me that complacency gets you killed.

I skip the elevators and enter the stairwell to climb to the seventh floor. The steady rhythm of my boots on the concrete gives my mind too much room to wander, but I refuse to let my thoughts drift back to Remi when I need to stay focused on keeping her alive.

By the fifth floor landing, every breath pulls at the cut across my ribs. The stab wound throbs with every step, and halfway up the final flight, damp warmth has spread beneath the bandage.

I put pressure on it and keep climbing.

At the seventh floor, I swipe my badge through another reader, and the lock disengages with a soft click.

I’m in.

“Sir, can I help you?”

A brunette stands behind the reception desk, wearing a practiced smile that falters when she gets a good look at me. Her gaze flicks briefly to the cuts on my face before dropping to the bandages around my fingers.

“I need to speak with Mr. Miller.”

Her eyes return to mine. “Mr. Miller is fully booked for the evening. If you’ll give me your badge number, I can try to schedule something for next week.”

Next week isn’t an option when Remi might not have that long.

“That’s not going to work.” I turn and head down the hallway.

“Sir! You can’t go in there!”

Her voice follows me as she speaks quickly into the microphone clipped beneath her collar, alerting security before I’ve made it halfway down the hall.

I pick up my pace. The office door is only a few yards away when hurried footsteps echo behind me.

“You can’t go in there!” Another shout joins hers from farther down the hall. I reach the office, wrap my hand around the doorknob, and swipe my badge through the reader. The lock disengages, and I push through the door.

Five men seated around an oval conference table turn toward me as all conversation stops.

“I’m Thiago Braga.” I shut the door behind me. “Operative 427. Precinct Nine, undercover. Elena Duvall is my handler.” I look around the table. “I need to file a complaint.”

The oldest man rises from his chair. Like the receptionist, he looks over my wounds before returning his attention to me.

“Did my assistant authorize this meeting?”

“No, sir.” I step farther into the room. “But it’s imperative that you hear me out.”