She’d already lost out once. A second time would break her.
Instead, she prayed—for help, for divine intervention, for Nash to save her from this hell. Because right now, he felt like her only hope of survival.
As the guard shoved her into a suite that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel—if five-star hotels had reinforced doors and surveillance equipment—Haisley made herself a promise: She would find a way out.
Or die trying.
* * *
The conference room at EM Security buzzed with tension. Nash watched Hunter pace while Logan leaned against the wall, both men’s faces grim. Their stepbrother and fellow owner, Joaquin, studied a tablet with a scowl. Zy bowed his head in whispered conversation with Matt as they reviewed satellite imagery. One-Mile had stepped out to confer with a contact. Trees was at his desk, still pounding away at the terms and conditions. Ethan and Kane looked as anxious for go-time as he was.
The whole team had assembled. They’d need everyone’s expertise for this op.
“So you three are clear on your covers?” Hunter paced the conference room. “Nash?”
“I’m Jasper King, CEO of King Imports. Ethan is Ethan Fischer, my partner in the textile trade. Kane is Keith Manford, part of my security team and a minor investor. The three of us have a long history as friends, and we share specific…sexual tastes.”
“Perfect.” Hunter clapped him on the back.
Only eighteen hours before the three of them departed for the island. Nash had spent days committing every detail of their covers to memory. And every night sleeplessly wondering if Haisley was alive.
“Trees has been collaborating with Stone since the auction ended,” the older Edgington brother went on. “They’ve created a trail of joint ventures going back five years. If anyone digs, they’ll find board meetings, travel records, joint property ownership, not to mention a social media footprint that should survive well beyond a cursory glance.”
“The security is tight, but the good news is,” Logan added, “it’s focused on keeping people in, far more than out. They’re not expecting a tactical team?—”
Trees burst through the door, laptop in hand, face grim. “We’ve got a problem. A big one.”
The room went silent. Nash’s pulse jumped. “What?”
“I finished the seemingly endless terms of service for your purchase. In the footnote of the fine print, I discovered that first-time buyers of breeders are required to stay on the island until pregnancy is confirmed. No exceptions.”
“What?” Nash’s chair crashed backward as he jumped to his feet. “That’s six to eight weeks—minimum.”
“It gets worse,” Trees continued. “Their ‘accommodation fees’ nearly double the purchase price. Medical services, fertility treatments, special food, and other amenities. And—get this—there’s a mandatory masquerade party tomorrow night at midnight—some kind of formal ‘claiming’ ceremony.”
“Clever bastards,” Hunter growled. “They trap the buyers there, drain them financially, and gather blackmail material while they’re at it.”
“And evil as fuck. They force the buyers to become fully invested while maintaining complete control.” Logan gritted his teeth.
“But why not let the buyers leave with their…purchases?” Ethan spit out the last word like poison.
Trees pulled up documents on the wall screen. “They claim it’s about ‘premium medical care’ and ‘proven results,’ which require strict protocols and monitoring. But they’re really building an exclusive club atmosphere while investigating buyers thoroughly and gathering proof of participation. Anyone tries to talk later, they go down, too.”
“Insurance.” Hunter’s voice was grim.
Nash ran a hand over his face. “This changes everything. How the fuck do we stay there and maintain cover for weeks? Or months?”
“Once you’ve paid and participated in the claiming ceremony,youcan leave whenever you want,” Trees pointed out. “You just can’t take Haisley with you.”
Fury swept through Nash’s blood. The thought of Haisley trapped there, forced to participate… “Not happening.”
“It’s not,” Hunter insisted. “These criminals aren’t dictating the terms. We’re changing the game.”
“Waiting out the pregnancy requirement is our last resort,” Joaquin agreed.
“Exactly,” Hunter seconded. “We should think more strategically. We have an opportunity to rescue more victims and shut this fucking ring down for good.”
“Hell yeah.” Logan crossed his arms over his chest.