Page 14 of Own

Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world… Our hunt had brought us to Monaco. Our original plan had been to interrogate the assailants or to follow and gather more info…

Maybe if we hadn’t been quite so efficient with the teams sent to reclaim Gallo, we could have played this differently.

Oh well.

Our bad.

Technically, we were collecting more information via a different avenue. And yes, arguably, this was more about precision chaos than pure extraction, but always play to your strengths.

The elevator ride to the lower level took several seconds longer than I thought it should. Then again, I trusted Alphabet’s work to get us the credentials. Well, getthemthe credentials. I was just here as the rogue arm candy.

When the panel flashed from red to green, I blew out a breath. Three seconds later, the elevator car glided to a stop and the doors slid open to revealThe Marquess,a lavish underground casino tucked below a luxury hotel in Monaco.

Exclusive, elite, and accessible only by invitation. Voodoo and Alphabet gripped my biceps and marched me out into the lush lobby area with its expensive furniture, imported marble floors, and ancient artifacts—three of which I damn well knew belonged back in Greece but haddisappearedduring a repatriation from the British Museum to Athens.

Good to know.

Cameras were likely tucked into every fixture. Security on these levels would be ruthless and swift. They wouldn’t bother with questions. In addition to the gaming tables and private rooms for whispered deals,The Marquessplayed host to the real action that brought us all the way here. Trafficking auctions masked as “discreet services.”

From what Gallo had said, Grace was nearly sold here. This would have been her destination before he picked her up—at a considerablemarkup.

Jackass.

While we stopped her from being brought here, so many others were still being trafficked through the facility. I took all of it in on our way across the lobby. The staff and security all wore similar high-end suits, distinguished only by the presence of weapons.

Two members of security, including one wearing an ankle holster from the way his pant leg draped, stepped forward as we marched toward an area marked off by velvet ropes.

Meeting the gaze of that man, I bared my teeth and had the satisfaction of him narrowing his gaze even as he rocked his weight back a half step.

Made you blink.

Voodoo waved the other guy back, the action would have revealed his own weapon. “We’re already late, get out of the way.” The cold dismissal in his voice would have made a newrecruit piss their pants. Maybe it didn’t have quite the same effect here, but it did prevent them from blocking our access.

The man who rose as we cleared the lobby and into the rear hall was older, harder eyed, and wore his intellect as fiercely as his skill. The flat line of his mouth and set of his shoulders said he would not be moved by a stare alone.

“What is this?” He motioned toward me. Yes, I was bruised, and the split in my lip had reopened though it wasn’t bleeding. The zip tie around my wrists declared I wasn’t here willingly. Not that they would care.

In addition to the sex and service options they trafficked in, they also dealt in security assets. I was a rogue, and ideal for the right bidder who may want to use my skills for muscle, personal revenge, or just training for their own security.

Under the right circumstances, I might almost do this for fun. Taking down these arrogant pricks could be a good time.

“He’s not listed,” the steely-eyed man stated. He tapped one thick finger to a clipboard on his desk.

“That’s because this isn’t on the list,” Alphabet drawled the words, smacking the gum that I’d actually forgotten he’d stuffed in his mouth on the way in.

“If he’s not on the list…”

“We didn’t sayheisn’t on the list.” Voodoo spoke in a far more precise, impersonal tone as though detailing directions. “We saidthisisn’t on the list.”

“Papers,” the security chief demanded.

Alphabet snorted. “Papers? How fucking new are you? All invoices and manifests come in electronically. Physical papers are trackable, dumbass.”

Color bloomed in the man’s face and his nostrils flared. “I want identification. Now. Or you can join your delivery in the chute.”

Physically suppressing the urge to roll my eyes took every ounce of my strength. What a tool…

“You want to clear this with management?” Voodoo said, still a picture of dispassionate patience. “Or would you like to explain why you delayed delivery?”

---