Page 10 of Ash Storm

Ash

Shortly before landing, Dark pulled them all together.

“Tell us what you found, Rogue.”

“Afsan is careful with his online presence. Either he’s very lucky, or he has a team of people monitoring and cleaning up his social media appearances. Probably the latter. I wasn’t able to get anywhere near his home network, either. It’s well shielded, and it would take a significant amount of time and effort.”

Ash burned to interrupt but forced himself to stay still, to wait until Rogue got wherever he was going with this. That was one of the things that made Dark a good team leader—he was patient when he had to be. Ash could learn a lot from him.

“Then I realized I didn’t need to hack into Afsan’s email. I just needed to find one of the men he’s exchanged emails with … and hope they weren’t as careful. That’s how I found Rosso.”

Rogue turned his screen around so they could all see the series of images. A tanned, muscled young man looked at the camera from several locations—suntanning next to an infinity pool overlooking an aquamarine ocean. Lounging half-naked on a yacht. Smiling behind the steering wheel of a fancy sports car.

What a tool.

In each case, the messages accompanying the photographs contained more emojis than words.

“Flavio Rosso is obviously too good-looking to stay away from social media,” Rogue said, smiling sharply.

“And he doesn’t like clothing,” Slate added.

“He’s the only child of Mario Rosso, and heir to the Rosso construction company. So far, he seems less interested in the company than in the dividends it brings. But the most interesting part for us, is how careless he is with his online security. He uses the same password for his magazine subscriptions and for his email. Which is how I was able to find the invitation to Afsan’s special event.”

“Is that what he calls it?”

Rogue nodded, pulling up the invitation.

Ash read it quickly.

You are cordially invited to this year’s special event, from March 18th to 21st. The theme this year will be One Thousand and One Nights.

Remember the rules:

Come alone. No exceptions.

You must attend all three days.

Plan your travel back carefully, in case your bid at the auction is successful.

Escrow account details will follow.

And then a flowery signature lacing two A’s together.

Ahmet Afsan.

The second to last line made Ash’s throat dry out.

Auction.

“He’s going to … auction the women?” he growled.

“That’s only two days away. We now know the dates and the location. That’s fucking amazing work, Rogue,” Dark said.

Rogue’s skin darkened to the roots of his hair. He huffed, pulling on his ponytail. “Yeah. Now let’s figure out what we’re going to do with this information.”

Ash knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to drive straight to Afsan’s palace and raze it to the ground, making sure the man was inside it. Except that death would be too kind. Afsan deserved to suffer.

“I’m writing to Thorne and Reynolds. If there’s a way to do it, we’re going to get ourselves an invitation to the event.”