Page 100 of Desperate Victory

“Mrs. Waldemar,” Lainey said abruptly, moving toward her. I didn’t like it and neither did anyone else but she crossed over to where the woman sat and took a seat of her own.

“Margareta, dear,” the older woman said. She focused on Lainey with utter kindness. That made me even more uneasy than her velvet glove of steel that she delivered her threats in.

“Mrs. Waldemar, I am perfectly capable of all the verbal jousting you might want to play. I am, however, not in the mood for any of it at the moment. It might not be politic or even especially kind, but if you know something about my sister—please tell me and don’t waste my time with more games.” It was the most direct, and gentle, no bullshit ultimatum I’d ever heard.

“There are a dozen different avenues in and out of Prague. Trafficking is a dirty business, but it’s also a lucrative one. Western girls are not usually found here as often. The custom is to prefer girls from disenfranchised areas of the world. Or girls from an ethnic background.” Distaste filled her expression. “They want women who can disappear and no one will look for them.”

“Yet, this is a place that Harper, King, and others used to remove ‘problems.’” The counterargument was solid. “Harper told me himself that he sold her. I spoke to a woman who participated in getting Andrea from Germany to Prague. She indicated there was an auction coming up.” Lainey laid it out for her, clear facts. As much as she tried to keep her emotions in check, she couldn’t quite mask the anger and sadness twining together in her voice.

“There are many organizations, some fledgling, and others, that do business in and around Prague. At one time, it wasn’t about what you were willing to do but what you were allowed to do.” She shook her head. “But power—power that is spread out amongst so many becomes dilute. There is no central figure who wields enough influence of Prague to close off some of those avenues. Like rats, they always come back and bring more detritus with them.”

“So you know who has her?” It was as direct a question as you were likely to get.

“We have a few likely suspects, yes.” She went from being open about everything to seemingly guarded. Lainey shifted to glance at us then back to Margareta.

“Do any of those suspects have dance academies?”

For a moment, I forgot to even breathe. A flicker of recognition in her eyes gave Margareta away. She knew.

She could tell us right now.

Like a rubber band being stretched too tight, I worried I might snap. As it was, I forced myself to be still and not drag the woman out of her chair and shake her until all the answers spilled out of her.

Footsteps in the hallway had Milo shifting. I moved closer to Lainey while Bodhi and Milo arranged themselves to put whoever joined us next right in their crosshairs.

Margareta glanced toward the doorway as a dark haired man with a brutally blunt square jaw entered. Like the rest of us, he was also dressed in a tux. Formal dining all the way around.

“Dimitri darling,” Margareta said, holding out a hand to him. The man in question swept the whole room with one cool look. There was no mistaking the assessment in them or the very real threat in the way he moved.

Fine suit aside, this man was a pure predator. What fascinated me was how he fixed on Milo first, almost bypassing Bodhi but then their gazes clashed.

Yes, please note you are not the only psychopath here, sir.

The random thought bordered on slightly hysterical. Still, as fierce as Dimitri Solohub appeared with the scar bisecting his left eye and digging deeper into his cheek, I’d put my money on Bodhi.

Every.

Single.

Time.

Dimitri accepted Margareta’s hand and bent to press a kiss to her knuckles. He murmured something, but it was Russian or maybe Czech. Either way, it wasn’t a language I spoke.

As he straightened, he turned those cool eyes on Lainey. I half-expected some smarmy comment, but the man merely inclined his head. “Dimitri Solohub, Miss Benedict.”

“Mr. Solohub,” Lainey replied. “Thank you for inviting us this evening.”

Margareta’s eyes narrowed but her lips twitched. Amusement filtered through me. The invitation was clearly from Margareta. Lainey was just tweaking her. Still, I enjoyed it.

“It is my great honor. Margareta is a dear friend.”

“Family,” she reminded him almost primly and he snapped his heels together with a light bow of his head.

“Of course,” he said, acquiescing like a good soldier. Then he glanced at Lainey once more before focusing on Margareta. “Did you want to go through to dinner or…”

“Somehow, I don’t think a meal is really in the cards tonight.” Margareta finished her wine, then rose. Lainey followed her to feet. “If you’ll call a car, Dimitri, we’re going to need a few men as well.”

“I’ll make arrangements immediately. Destination?” He already had his phone in hand.

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