Page 143 of Indulge
“I don’t like it. I wanna go with her.”
I sigh.
“We’re here. Close enough to get to her the second she needs us.”
He scrubs a hand over his face.
Drago sits in the back, tapping away on his laptop. He flew in last night to help plan this op, digging up everything he could on Madame Eve. The woman’s a ghost. No digital footprint worth tracing.
But we’ve got her old name: Eve Jacobs. British. Forty-five. Widowed. Officially missing for ten years.
“Can we see the security cam, Drago?” I ask.
“Yeah, sure.”
He passes the laptop forward, and I set it on the dash. Six live feeds glow across the screen. Bella should appear on the first any second now.
Rowan exhales as she steps through security, her fake ID flawless.
“I feel sick,” he mutters.
“Keep it together. She needs us both sharp.”
He nods, eyes glued to the screen.
At first, I thought what he felt for her was a game, a craving for what he couldn’t have.
But watching him now, it’s more than that.
He needs her like oxygen.
Just like I do.
“She’s going to be fine, brother. Our girl’s a firecracker,” I tell him.
A slow smile tugs at his lips. Drago coughs from the backseat.
“Ours,” Rowan repeats.
68
BELLA
The bass from the club vibrates through my ribs as I step through the crowd, every beat syncing with the hammer in my chest. The air smells like liquor, sweat, and something metallic—fear maybe. Or maybe that’s just mine.
I keep my chin high as I approach the bar, scanning the room.
“Can I help you, sweetheart?” the bartender asks, his eyes skimming down my dress.
“Yes.” I lean in just enough for him to notice. “I’m here to see Madame Eve.”
The music doesn’t even drown out how fast everything changes.
His eyes flick up. He straightens, taps twice on the bar, and two men appear from nowhere. They’re scary, but not as frightening as my men would be.
“Come with us,” one of them says.
I school my features calmly, even as my stomach lurches. I follow them past the VIP rope, down a narrow hallway that smells like bleach.
