Page 199 of Heir

No one fucking lived. They’d signed their death sentence the moment they’d targeted Gemma.

We didn’t know how many men were on board, but I guessed it would be between twenty and thirty.

Doable if we take them out one at a time.

And we quickly found our first target.

“I’ll take care of him,” Dad said. “You go down and look for Gemma.”

He pointed to the wooden companionway door leading down below.

I nodded and headed down there as Dad approached the man.

The lower deck was damp, dark, and cramped.

I moved along the wall, coming up to the first door and what seemed like storage of some sort.

I heard a sound behind me, and I moved into the doorway, holding it open just a crack as I saw Jude and two men walk by. Jude was holding a white dress in his hand.

I watched them quietly as they went to a door near the end of the ship. Jude walked in, and the two men moved the wooden crates around the floor, pushing them off to the side.

I stayed where I was while they worked. I didn’t know how long Jude was gone, but when he walked out of the door empty-handed, the men stopped working and looked to him for orders.

He said something to them in Russian.

I didn’t even know the bastard spoke the language.

But ten years was a long time for a person to change, including switching his loyalties.

It was a bad move.

My fists clenched, and I wanted nothing more than to make myself known and kill the bastard.

But finding Gemma took priority.

I pushed myself against the wall as they walked past once more, listening for their footsteps fading before I rushed to the door Jude had entered.

I came to a stop as I took in the sight with wide eyes.

Fuck.

Women in cages.

What the fuck?

I was still hidden in the shadows, and most of the women jumped when they heard the door open and close.

I looked around for her. I knew she was here.

My eyes roamed over everyone until I came to the middle, right under where the light was shining.

My breath caught at the desolate look in her eyes. Fuck.

My feet moved of their own accord.

Her eyes were closed, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her hair was a mess.

Her hand was fisted around the necklace I gave her.

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