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Charlotte: I just crossed the California border.
Me: Good. Stay safe, sweetheart. Call me when you get back to San Simeon.
Charlotte: Will do. Talk soon.
I hold my phone tightly, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety wash over me as I read her message. The weight of the upcoming operation presses down on my chest, but knowing that Charlotte is safely on her way home gives me a sliver of comfort.
As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind races through the details of our plan. Ace has been playing a dangerous game for far too long, and it’s time to put an end to his treachery once and for all. With V’s hacking skills, he is close to figuring out who he is working with. Once we have that, we can move in and finish this. But Ace has eyes and ears everywhere, and one small mistake could jeopardize everything. We need to be precise, calculated, and above all, patient. The latter is something I lack as my prize for handling this drives farther and farther away from me.
Hours tick by slowly at a sloth’s pace. I finally decide to get up and head down to one of the restaurants to grab a bite to eat. The four walls of this room are beginning to close in on me.
I grab my T-shirt from last night and slip it over my head. The fabric clings to my skin, the scent of it still carrying traces of Charlotte’s perfume. It brings a faint smile to my face, a bittersweet reminder of her presence here just hours ago. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart as I prepare myself for the day ahead.
Stepping into the hallway, the crisp hotel air greets me, momentarily providing a respite from the thoughts that consume me. The sound of distant chatter and clinking cutlery drifts toward me, drawing me closer to the restaurant.
Entering the dimly lit space, I find solace in its anonymity. The tables are sparsely occupied, with a few scattered patrons lost in their own worlds. I choose a spot near the window, seeking comfort in the view of the bustling street outside.
A waiter approaches, his face etched with exhaustion. He takes my order without much interaction, his eyes glazed over as if he is also trapped in his own thoughts. As I wait for my food to arrive, I stare wistfully out the window, letting my mind wander. The waiter returns ten minutes later with my steak. I barely notice when he sets it down in front of me. I start to cut into it when I notice a group of men walking past the restaurant window—all four in business suits and a young woman barely standing on her own between them. The same four men that I had seen at the resort’s bar with Minny and Charlotte.
“Motherfucker,” I growl. I shove away from the table, figuring a couple of twenties from my wallet will cover my dinner. Giving them a bit of distance, I follow them. The woman with them stumbles over her feet as they lead her toward a side exit of the resort.
My heart pounds in my chest as I trail behind them, careful to keep a safe distance. The woman’s disheveled appearance and unsteady gait send a surge of anger coursing through my veins. It’s clear she’s been drugged or coerced into this situation. Instinctively, I reach for my phone and dial V’s number, hoping he’ll pick up.
“Got eyes on our guys. They’ve got a woman with them. Looks like they’ve drugged her,” I whisper urgently into the phone as I continue to tail the group. “It looks like they’re forcing her somewhere.”
“All right, I’m tracking your location. Stay on their tail, but don’t engage until I give you the go signal,” V instructs, his tone firm.
I nod even though he can’t see it and pocket my phone. The adrenaline courses through my veins as I focus on maintaining a discreet distance from the group. They reach a secluded area behind the resort, surrounded by dense foliage that provides them with cover. My heart pounds louder in my ears as they disappear from sight.
Carefully maneuvering through the shrubbery, I find myself crouched behind a large palm tree just close enough to make out their hushed voices. This could have been Charlotte and Minny had I not stepped in to prevent it. I’m sure as fuck am not going to let it happen now.
“Just do what we say, and you’ll be fine,” one of Ace’s men snarls, his voice laced with malice.
I clench my fists, trying to control the anger surging through me. They have no idea what they’re dealing with. As I listen intently, snippets of their conversation reach my ears.
“We have a buyer lined up for her. He’s been waiting for this shipment,” one of the men says, his voice filled with anticipation.
The woman’s desperate pleas for mercy grow louder, and I can’t bear to hear her pain any longer. It’s time to act.
“I’m moving in V. This may be our only chance.” Hanging up on him, I shove my phone in my pocket and approach them. The cocksuckers are so busy with their prey that they don’t see me until it’s too late.
With a surge of adrenaline, I launch myself from the shadows, catching the closest man off guard.
“Surprise, assholes,” I snarl, landing a swift kick to his gut, sending him sprawling to the ground, clutching his abdomen in pain. The others turn toward me, their eyes widening in surprise as they assess the situation.
“Let her go,” I order.
The woman’s desperate cries for help have turned into a mixture of fear and hope as she watches me take on her captors. She tries to free herself from their grasp, but their vice-like grip is unrelenting. With a determined glare, I lock eyes with her, silently urging her to hold on just a little longer.
“Seems to me you’re outnumbered,” one of them remarks. He’s cocky, nods to the other two, and they rush at me, fueled by anger and desperation. They’re clearly trained, but I’ve had my fair share of scrapes over the years as a bouncer and with the club. Fighting is second nature to me. Dodging punches and kicks, I retaliate with precision and force. Each blow lands with calculated accuracy, sending shock waves of pain through my fists.
The second man faceplants onto the ground, leaving me the third to deal with. I extend out my hand, egging him on to attack me.
He charges, dips slow, trying to wrap his arms around my waist to spear me, but I land an elbow to the face, followed by a knee to the groin, and a well-timed jab to the throat—all tactics aimed at incapacitating my opponent swiftly and effectively. He stumbles back, gasping for air. He trips over his own feet and lands hard on his ass, his hands clawing at his throat.
Three down. One to go. He shoves the screaming woman in front of him like a shield.
“Using a drugged woman as a shield? Fucking pathetic.”
