Page 144 of Pink

And that’s how Lev knew.

Marco was telling the truth.

“You’re stuck on the wrong thing,” Marco murmured, meeting Lev’s gaze up above without fear. Dead men tell no lies—wasn’t that how the saying went? At this point, Marco had nothing to lose … no reason to lie. “I can fill in the blanks, but I don’t have all the answers.”

Lev’s heart thundered, his grip flexing on the gun and his finger twitchy on the fucking trigger. He didn’t want to listen to the man, but it seemed like Marco wasn’t going to give him a choice.

“Saw the news,” the Cali man stated, shrugging indifferently. “He took her right out of a show, huh? Managed to get backstage. Security even helped. Shit, I’m getting ahead of myself, though.” He twirled one finger in the air, adding, “Reverse back … to the lunch your boss had you sit in. The first time I laid eyes on Gigi Rey in person.”

Lev jammed the gun harder, forcing Marco’s head back into the seat to the point it must have been painful. The guy didn’t even swallow.

He just kept talking.

“Are you getting it yet? What you missed?” Marco asked.

Lev’s jaw ached from how hard he was clenching his teeth, the words spitting from his mouth in a mutter because of it when he said, “That was for work.”

“So was the show. And who gets access to those? Who has access to Gigi Rey in such a way that they can literally provide her? Her schedule. Her private matters. Her time. Her person. Think about it.”

He didn’t want to.

The suggestion was abhorrent.

“She’s not even the fifth model he’s had like a … toy,” Marco added quieter. “Go back, look for it. It’s all there. If he can buy her time for lunch, then what stopped them from selling her for anything else he wanted?”

It was as though cement had been poured into Lev’s shoes keeping him stuck right where he stood. The ice in his heart was the killer, though.

The worst.

“How long?” Lev managed to ask. “How long has the modeling agency been selling girls?”

“You’re asking the wrong man, and the one you need to ask … well, the last I heard from him, he was asking for a connection to a friend in Mexico.”

“You said you didn’t know—”

Marco sneered, interjecting coldly, “I don’t have details. Anybody can buy those … or your current case, trade them for something else.”

“Which is what?”

Because right then, Lev would do anything to get the information he needed that would lead him to Gigi. Absolutely anything.

“Business continues with Andino Marcello,” Marco said. “Look at it like we hit a restart; go back to our previous agreements before Jensen came along. See, your boss has made it very difficult for me to get anything done lately. He’s pulled weight all over the continent … from Chicago to Canada. The Marcellos really have a reach, don’t they?”

Fuck.

Lev couldn’t make that promise.

He wasn’t the boss.

And still, he said, “Done.”

“I’ll need my phone. To make some calls, of course. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Lev didn’t lower his gun. “So, tell your man to get the fucking phone.”

Marco waved two fingers, and that was enough for the guard behind him to follow the silent order. Staring down the barrel of Lev’s rifle, the man met his gaze, still calm and unbothered. “There is one other thing you should know … consider it a professional courtesy since I’ll be working with your boss again and that’s basically like being friends. Of sorts.”

Jesus Christ.