Page 75 of Hell to Pay

Most of it didn’t hold any meaning. There were a lot of numbers, even a few symbols. There was a spreadsheet with buyers’ names and profiles, but they used code names as identifiers and the profiles were vague enough that it would be hard to use them to identify anyone.

“Pull up that place on the satellite,” Rafe said.

Jude tapped at the keyboard and a few seconds later a grainy image appeared onscreen.

“Magnify it,” Rafe said.

Jude did and a huge stone building — more like a castle — became clearer at the center, several smaller buildings surrounding it.

“Do an address search,” I said.

Lilah’s eyes were glued to the monitor. It was the first time she’d been in the office for more than a few seconds, the first time anyone besides Rafe, Jude, and I had been in the room, but it had seemed natural for her to come with us when we’d gotten home from the beach.

“Owned by Chevalier Acquisitions,” he said.

“Another shell company?” Lilah asked.

“You got it, sweetheart.” She was catching on.

“Shit.”

“Go to the part with the date again,” Rafe said.

Jude clicked on a couple folders saved to the hard drive and opened up one called “June MdM.”

It was a bright pink door on a black background.

MdM June 16. Final vetting. Invite only. Catalog live.

“Next week,” Lilah said. “And it’s just like the page that opened for me with the invitation code in Greece.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Go back to the catalog spreadsheet.”

Jude hesitated, then started typing. It felt like we were all holding our breath as the spreadsheet labeled “Catalog” appeared on the screen, a row of numbers marching down the left-hand side.

“Are we going to talk about this or are we going to pretend like we’re not seeing it?” Lilah asked.

“They match.” Rafe’s voice was quiet and almost monotone, the way it was when he was so full of rage he didn’t trust himself to open his mouth very wide. “And your number is there.”

I thought about the number branded on the back of her neck, saw it repeated in the last number on the spreadsheet: 2654135BL.

“‘Final vetting, catalog live,’” Lilah said softly. “The ‘catalog’ are girls, and the MdM, whatever that is, is where they vet the girls for final sale?”

My stomach turned thinking about it, thinking about Lilah — about all the girls on the list — reduced to numbers, brought to market and sold like livestock.

“That makes the most sense,” Jude said.

“We have to go,” Lilah said. “To Paris.”

Rafe glared at her. “No, we don’t.”

I thought they might butt heads again, that Lilah would demand to go and Rafe would say it wasn’t her call and they’d both end up screaming until one of them stalked from the room.

But something had changed. Maybe it was because they’d finally fucked, satiated the hate-lust that had been so thick between them in the months since Lilah had come to live in the house.

Maybe it was the fact that they were both ready to be honest about their feelings for each other, which were about a lot more than fucking.

Whatever it was, Lilah took his hand, then looked into his eyes.

“We do.” She squeezed his hand and something heavy and private passed between them. “We do.

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