Page 110 of Sweet Deception
Darren and I hurry down a dim, unused, and unguarded hallway, walking as quickly as I can manage in high heels. Soon, the lights of the industrial kitchen come into view.
My heart leaps when one of the servers steps directly into our path. I jerk, but that’s only because I don’t recognize the woman wearing the uniform until we’re right in front of her.
It’s Harper Brennan.
She beams at me. “Long time no see, Nika.”
I smile back. “Making that uniform look designer as only you could.”
“Where’d you put the precious cargo?” Darren asks.
“In there.” She nods toward a closed freezer door.
Darren and I double back and pull the giant metal thing open.
Sure enough, more than half the women I stood in line with just thirty minutes ago are hidden inside. Thankfully, the freezer’s been turned off, so no one’s shivering. Instead, they’re helping themselves to food and fresh produce and refreshments. God only knows how long they’ve been without in Red Hill custody.
“This is amazing…” I regard them, and then Darren, with relief.
“Cargo Hold One is secure,” Darren says into his earpiece.
“The kitchen route is clear,” someone responds. I think that’s Riley. Both twins must be here.
I could cry again. I cannot believe the Kings came through like this.
Not just for me, or for their financial gain, but for each and every one of the people in this freezer whose life had been ripped apart by the greed and violence of men like Troy Sullivan. It’s overwhelming.
Darren catches my eye and gives me a single nod.
No time for crying. We’ve got to get Lucy.
I don’t even want to know how they gathered all the women down here without that scary man with the tablet or Sophia Kovaleva finding out, but I’m sure wherever those two are,they’re pissed or on the verge of retaliating. That is, if they’re not already dead.
Darren and I exit the kitchen and stick to the shadows. He’s dressed in all black, with a button-down and a tailored suit jacket that help him pose as an “escort” to guide me undetected through the building.
Guards posted nearby hiss into their walkie-talkies.
Yep, they’ve definitely noticed their missing merchandise.
We slip around a corner into a lobby and glide toward another door that’s marked,Private Viewing Room.Darren unholsters his gun and cocks it, just in case.
We’re not in the market for any surprises.
Voices and shuffling dress shoes echo from beyond the door. Clinking champagne glasses and laughter. Party sounds.
Before I can move to open the door, Darren stops me with a shake of his head and speaks swiftly into his earpiece. “Tactical Team A, move in.”
In seconds, a small fleet of Irish King foot soldiers flood the lobby. I don’t know where the hell they came from or where they got those uniforms that are basically identical to the guards manning the auction, but I understand they’re with Darren because I recognize several of their faces from dinner.
Darren holsters his gun and gives me a look. “You ready?”
When I nod, he gives the signal. I dropped my Taser outside the building after the explosion went off and Darren appeared, but I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t do much against a gun anyway.
Two of the soldiers, in character as auction guards, open the viewing room doors for us. Darren wraps my arm around his, and we enter like royalty, blending in with the other buyers examining women for purchase. The real security guards barely even glimpse at Darren’s team. At first glance, the fake uniforms pass inspection.
We float across the viewing floor while potential buyers circle the women on pedestals like sharks. Darren whispers an order in my ear, and I nod again.
I can do this.
