I stared at the screen, the truth settling like lead in my gut. “They’re holding spaces,” I said quietly. “Storage.”
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
Because we both knew exactly what kind of merchandise he was storing.
Humans. Sold like cargo. Stacked on beds that would never carry dreams—only nightmares.
And now, Savannah was part of it.
The realization hit like a blade—sharp, final, undeniable. If Bruce was a part of Gavriel Costa’s world, then this wasn’t just about the empire her father had left behind. This wasso much worse.
This was a world where women weren’t protected or spared—they werepackaged.
This wasn’t the game her father had played.
This was an entire fucking war.
And we were already decades late to the battlefield.
Nic’s phone buzzed on the desk, the vibration cutting through the silence.
She didn’t hesitate—just answered. “Yeah?”
A pause. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, then narrowed slightly.
“You sure?” she said, voice low.
Another pause. Then a clipped, “Thanks.”
She hung up slowly, fingers tightening around the phone.
“I sent Reaper to Parker Mitchell’s house,” she said quietly. “He’s dead. Heart attack, supposedly.”
My stomach twisted.
“Place was untouched,” she added. “Except for one thing.”
She looked me dead in the eye.
“The files on the Murray building are gone.”
Ben swore under his breath.
Nic didn’t blink. “They knew exactly how to take her. Before we ever knew they were coming.”
Chapter 27
Savannah
My mouth was sandpaper.
Each breath scraped like glass through my throat. My lips stuck together when I tried to part them, the air around me thick, stale, and reeking of sweat and gasoline.
Something rocked beneath me. No—moved.
Wheels. Engine. A low, steady hum that vibrated through my spine. The floor was metal. Cold and ridged beneath my skin. My limbs felt like rubber, slow to respond, detached like they belonged to someone else. My head, fuck it hurt.