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“Don’t leave, baby. Together we can find this fucker and make him pay.”
Sophia stops packing and stares at me. “That’s exactly what I plan on doing.” And then she walks out of my condo.
I want to chase after her, but she’s right. In the beginning of my career, I didn’t care if people did illegal things. I hid them and kept them safe, not thinking about the millions of lives they must ruin. And even now, I still protect these men who hurt others to make a fortune. Sophia’s right, what kind of man am I?
She leaves and I don’t chase after her, but every cell in my body screams at me to run, not walk, out this door and find her and make her understand.
I’ve never thought about the illegal activities my clients do. I head toward my office, looking for the file of Bishop’s job years ago with the shipping containers. I look over invoices, files, trying my best to figure out where the containers were dropped off. Who signed? Who picked up the contents inside?
I check my files, continuing to rake through every piece of paperwork I have on that job. I search for other jobs as well until the sun goes down and I’ve forgotten what time it is.
The names on the pages blur together, and I try to make sense of what I’m looking at. If Bishop is selling sex slaves, then what is he doing with them? Someone is buying them, right?
I grab another piece of paper, scanning the contents for anything that can help me find out what the fuck is going on.
And then I see the name scrawled at the bottom there.
Fuck.
I grab my phone, checking the time to make sure it’s not too late in the night to put in a call to Humphrey.
I call him, waiting for him to answer.
“Dean Maddox, how are you? I was expecting to see you and your wife here tonight.”
“She’s not feeling so well tonight,” I tell him. “But I was calling about that business opportunity you had discussed the other night.”
“Yes, sure. Come down to the club and we can talk things through.”
“I’ll be right there.”
The whole drive to the club I wonder if I should call Sophia, tell her what I’ve found out, let her know where I’m heading. To see where she is.
I hope she hasn’t gone to find Eddie.
I step on the gas, driving the Range Rover faster to get to Humphrey’s club. I need information.
Even if I never see Sophia again, I owe her this much.
The thought of never seeing Sophia ever again weighs heavily on my heart. In such a short amount of time, she’s become everything to me.
My world.
I think about the last time we were together intimately. The way she gazed into my eyes. The way she felt against my skin. Her body pliant for me to touch. I’ve fallen for her, and there’s no mistaking how I feel about her.
Yes, I need to do this for her. I need her to know that I would have never shipped her off to America, or anyone had I known. But not only known, had I cared enough to ask questions.
I can no longer pretend I don’t know my clients do illegal things. I guess I’ve been a little naive, thinking the worst things they can be into is drug smuggling businesses. The Four Families are a front for gambling and drugs. I never think about the logistics of what they actually do and how it affects others. I guess I’ve never really cared before.
But now I do.
Sophia has made me realize I need to pay attention.
When I pull up to Humphrey’s club, it’s already packed with people. I remember not too long ago when Sophia and I were showing up here for the very first time. It feels like forever ago. I smile at security as I step past the line of people waiting to get in.
Humphrey is by the door, smiling, greeting his guests as they walk through the door. When he sees me, his smile vanishes, and he goes into business mode. “Dean, right this way.” He ushers me into a room near the entrance. “I figured we could speak in here about things.”
I shake his hand. “Sure thing.”
He motions to a chair for me to have a seat. “I assure you my main priority is secrecy, and I would guess a man with a security company would understand this.”
I nod. “Certainly.”
“I’m in the market for a few things. I like to acquire property that’s… special.
“I’m listening.”
He smiles like this very action pleases him. He’s not the type of man who is used to being told no. “Most times these items aren’t exactly legal.”
I stare at him pointedly. “Why don’t you just give it to me straight. I’m used to cutting the corners of the law.”
