Page 195

His jaw tightened. "What did you learn?"

"He called himself—” She coughed painfully. "The Curator." Soren felt every muscle in his body tighten. He'd heard that name before, once. It was nearly fifteen years ago. He was an international broker, but he believed the stories were just ghost stories or rumors. Nobody had ever proven he existed.

Luca noticed the change in Soren immediately. "You know him."

"I know of him,” Soren said.

Rachel looked between them. "That's impossible."

"I wish it were,” Soren said. He stood and began pacing slowly. If The Curator truly existed, then Collins had merely been one accountant in a much larger machine.

"What about Lily Brooks?" he asked.

Rachel's expression changed instantly to fear—real fear. "She wasn't supposed to survive."

Soren stopped walking. "What?"

"Her personnel file." Rachel reached weakly toward the satchel beside the cot. "It’s inside.” She winced.

Luca retrieved the leather satchel and handed it to Soren. Inside were legal pads, case files, photographs, flash drives, and one thick manila envelope. Across the front, someone had written Lily's name in red ink. Soren carefully opened it. Someone had done a complete background check on her, just as he had when they first met. His pulse slowed as fury rose from deep inside of him.

There were dozens of surveillance photographs of Lily leaving work, grocery shopping, sitting alone in a coffee shop, and even one of her unlocking her apartment. Someone had watched her for months.

"What is this?" Soren asked.

Rachel swallowed. "Prospective inventory." The word echoed through the abandoned church. Inventory.

Soren's hand tightened around the folder. "They—” His voice remained eerily calm. "Catalogued women."

Rachel nodded. "They preferred women without close family." She struggled for breath. They wanted them in good health, and were unlikely to be immediately missed."

Soren stared at Lily's file. Richard Collins hadn't hired her because she was qualified. He'd selected her, like livestock or merchandise.

"They were grooming her,” Soren whispered.

Rachel nodded once. "Eventually—” She closed her eyes. "She would've disappeared."

Soren's vision narrowed. Every violent instinct he'd spent decades controlling clawed toward the surface. He remembered Lily apologizing for everything. She worked fourteen-hour days, and skipped meals. She lived paycheck to paycheck, believing Collins had simply been a demanding employer. The bastard had been studying her and planning her future. He planned on selling her.

Soren closed the file with deliberate care. "When?"

Rachel looked at him. "What?"

"When were they planning to take her?" he asked.

Rachel hesitated and then whispered, "The night Collins died."

Everything became perfectly clear. The late meeting and keeping Lily after hours. He was making sure she stayed in the building. She hadn't been there by accident. She'd been bait.

Soren's phone vibrated, but he ignored it. His attention remained fixed on Rachel. "Why wasn't she told to come into the conference room?"

Rachel's eyes filled with tears. "Because—” She swallowed. "They wanted her frightened." Soren frowned, and Rachel looked away. "They believed fear made women easier to control."

For the first time in years, Soren wanted to kill a dead man.

Luca quietly stepped closer. "Boss."

Soren didn't answer.