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So far, all of the rooms have been empty. There hasn’t been any sign of Dominic anywhere, but I know that he has to be here somewhere. He’s probably looking for a way to slip out in the dark and scuttle off like the damn cockroach that he is.

At the end of the dark hall, we approach the last door, there is a narrow staircase that goes down into what must be a basement directly across from it. I’d bet my casino that Dominic is down there either hiding or accessing a way out that we weren’t aware of. I catch Travis’ eye tipping my chin toward the stairs. He nods quickly, and I don’t wait for him to follow. I slip into the narrow doorway to silently descend the stairs. I hear the door imprisoning Gracie and the others splinter behind me, followed by the sounds of mostly feminine screams that quickly turn to cries of happiness as they realize that they are being rescued.

As bad as I want to find Dominic, and ensure that he can never do anything like this to anyone ever again, I pause my steps to absorb the joyful sounds. I can’t help the surge of satisfaction that flows through knowing that finally, I have been able to help prevent people from suffering to expand my uncle’s power.

Travis’ crackling voice comes through my earpiece. “Taking them out now, X. You need support?”

It’s a good question. I’m still standing in the hall looking at the door, but I have no idea what kind of help I’m going to need, but I do know that I’m not going to let anyone else risk themselves to get Dominic. This is my family’s mess. My fight. This is for me to do, and I’m going to do it.

Alone.

“I’m good, man,” I whisper, careful to keep my voice low as I silently making my way toward the sliver of yellow light at the bottom of the stairs. I only have to go down two more, and I will know what is in there. And who.

A shadow crosses the door, dimming the light for an instant, confirming that someone is down here with me.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Xavier

I stop just outside the closed door straining to hear what is going on behind it. The sound of muffled voices drifts to my ears. One is definitely female. I’m not sure why I wasn’t anticipating that there would be a woman down here. The other voice is deeper, gruffer. There is a familiar cadence to the angry voice. It’s Dominic, even though I can’t hear it clearly, I know. The feminine voice cries out loudly. I’m not waiting anymore. Every second I wait is one more second that he draws breath, and that is unacceptable. Reaching out, I test the doorknob, being careful not to let it rattle in my hand.

Of course, it’s locked. I genuinely didn’t expect anything else, but there was a slight hope that I could get in without making a ruckus. The unknown woman’s voice wails again, louder this time. I step back, preparing to kick in the door when the distinct sound of a heavy door slamming echos from inside.

The sound spurs me into action, and I put everything I have behind my kick, knowing that this is the only chance I’m going to get tonight. The hollow paneling splinters under my heavy boot, and it opens slightly. Thank fuck for shoddy construction. More light floods the small landing, and I cautiously reach inside to flip the deadbolt open.

/> “Help?” A timid voice calls out. I’m not stupid. I know full well this could be a ploy to get me to make a reckless move, so I wait another long moment before pushing the door, allowing it to swing open. I can see what I guess is about half of the room. It’s some kind of fucked-up sex dungeon. The red and black furniture is lurid, and what I assume is supposed to be sexy. It’s not. It’s just disgusting.

Stepping forward slightly, my pistol leading the way, I am able to see even more of the small room, but I still can’t see the woman. The sound of shuddering breaths fills the room, punctuated by quiet, hiccoughing sobs.

“Is someone there?” The voice is trembling and thin, almost indiscernible. I take another wary step forward, more of the room becoming visible as I do.

“Where is he?” I growl into the heavy silence.

“Gone.” The tiny voice whispers with a sigh of relief.

“Come out where I can see you.” I bark, unwilling to proceed any further without knowing for sure where Dominic is and who the voice belongs to. There is a quiet clank of metal followed by a dragging sound to my left, behind the door, and I quickly turn that way toeing it open the rest of the way. The remainder of the room is visible now, including a young woman curled up naked on the floor. My pulse ratchets up a notch as a fresh burst of rage explodes through me. Before moving I pull my company cell phone from my pocket and quickly take video, knowing that the Feds will want it for evidence.

The owner of the voice is attached to the wall by a chain that is tight around her neck. Even from here, I can see how red and inflamed the skin around the metal is. Her thin arms and legs are covered in a rainbow of bruises ranging from deep black to a sickly yellow where she has them crossed protectively hiding as much of her body as she can. She is alone. Dominic is nowhere in sight.

“Where did he go?” I rasp, anger at missing my opportunity to get my hands on Dominic thick in my voice. She flinches back and shrinks into herself, even more, a tangle of multicolored hair falling around her pale face. Forcefully reining in my out of control emotions, I gentle my voice and try again, “How did he get out?”

There’s a door just there,” she whispers and points a finger behind me. I glance back. There is a narrow set of steps that lead to a door that obviously comes out of the ground somewhere. Storm cellar doors. That was what I heard slamming closed. The motherfucker got away while I was that close.

“Blake,” I grumble into my microphone. “Send someone down to the basement.”

“You got him?” his reply is immediate.

“Nope. The fucker got out a door we didn’t know about.”

“The fuck?” He sounds pissed that his intel didn’t prepare us for that possibility. “No one saw him outside.” I’m not surprised in the least. I’m sure a good escape route was the reason that he chose to set up in this house. It’s not the typical place where Dominic Cerelli would choose to spend time.

“Gonna need bolt cutters too. There’s another girl down here. ”I tell him as I stride forward and yank the red satin sheet off of the bed that sits prominently in the center of the room. I don’t even want to look around in here. I know that these places exist, and while I’m personally not offended by anyone who enjoys their sex rough, I am disgusted and completely offended by this room. I know exactly what it is.

Dominic had one in New York, and it’s part of why my father sent him away. He uses these rooms to train the girls he sells. The ones he sells to men who want a sex slave. I’m well aware that for some, they choose that life, but Dominic… well, he forces them into it regardless of what they want.

The girl cries silently into her hands as I wrap the thin sheet around her shivering form. She’s tiny. Even smaller than Ana.At first glance, I thought she was a child, but as I cover her up there is no mistaking her for anything less than a full-grown woman. She pulls the sheet tighter around herself, her eyes focused somewhere near my knees. I rise and take a step away from her, not wanting to frighten her.

“Do you know if there is a key?” I ask, motioning to the heavy lock holding the chain around her bruised neck. She is a mess. I’m pretty sure that there is dried semen in her tangled hair, and on the irritated skin of her neck. I take another deep breath pushing my anger back down. Again.

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