Page 85 of Locked in Wonderland

Nico waited, his expression unreadable.

“They knew the whole thing was fake.”

Nico nodded. “It’s difficult to make people disappear if law enforcement asks questions.”

The realization hit like a punch to the gut. “They’re paid off.”

“Generously.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“It is what it is.”

I hated that answer. Mostly because of how matter-of-fact he was about something that basically equated to human trafficking.

“It’s been happening for years,” he continued. “The system works because everyone gets a cut.”

A well-oiled machine. One that had swallowed me whole. I turned my head toward the window, picturing the Wonderland that lay beyond these walls. A place of lights, music, and laughter. A playground. As long as you didn’t look too closely, or happen to be on the wrong side. Those who came here of their own accord were fine. Well, usually. As long as they didn’t cross paths with the Harts like that poor guy in the nightclub.

“Hence Warren’s apartment,” I said. Nico didn’t interrupt my line of thought. “The repairs. The replacement tenant. Everything reset in a few hours. I assume she was in on it?”

“Probably.”

“You don’t know?”

“It’s not my department.”

“Take a guess.”

“I assume she lived there before Victor moved in. They probably moved her temporarily. Not much use being a spider if you don’t have a web.”

I laughed. Humorlessly. “And I was the fly.”

The slight arch of Nico’s eyebrow said If the cap fits.

Needing to stand, I went over to the window. Everything suddenly made sense. The outfit. The constant attention. The drink I couldn’t afford. The betting chips I couldn’t pay for. The auction. The tattoo. The watch. Every strange interaction. Every warning sign. Every piece clicked neatly into place. “That’s why Carter called me a plaything.”

Nico stayed silent.

“That’s the reason they lured me here. Nothing but a commodity to be used and abused.”

“I did what I could to help.”

I whipped around to face him. “Yeah, let’s revisit that, shall we? What did you do?”

Nico’s expression didn’t change, but his grip on the mug tightened slightly. “For a start, I told you not to come here.”

I was already shaking my head before he got halfway through his sentence. “Don’t give me that crap. You gave me a vague, fortune-cookie-like warning and expected me to understand what you were getting at. You could have told me the truth.”

“You wouldn’t have believed me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

I jabbed an accusing finger at him. “You could’ve shown me the watch was a tracker.”

Silence.