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The people he’d invited—a group of known human traffickers from Eastern Europe—had decided at the last minute not to come, sending only Dimitri, a thug not only low on the totem pole but also low in intelligence, in their stead.
It was an insult, that was clear, and it meant they weren’t taking any of his efforts to gain access to their inner circle seriously enough.
He’d been trying for months to get close to this particular group of traffickers, but it turned out that the terrible reputation he’d careful cultivated, that had enabled him to gain their trust as far as it went, was now working against him.
This group were staunch family men, all with wives and children, and they did not want someone of Castor’s ilk joining them. It drew too much attention, apparently.
It was beginning to be clear to Castor that if he wanted to become one of them, he was going to have to do something to change their opinion of him.
He wasn’t sure quite what that something was yet, but he’d do it.
Once he was part of that inner circle, all he needed then was to get the location of their next ‘shipment’ and pass that on to the authorities so they could intercept it.
He was going to take those animals down and their loathsome organisation with them.
Starting with that bastard Dimitri.
Are you sure you want to go after them now? In public?
That was true. How disappointing. He would have to settle with discretion, then.
His gaze fell once again on the woman Dimitri was holding. She was very small and wrapped entirely in what was, indeed, a red cloak. Her face was pale and sharp and fox-like, and she had the largest, most liquid dark eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes that had been full of fear as they’d met his.
The people that came to his parties were carefully chosen. They had few boundaries and even fewer inhibitions, and if any of them were frightened at being handled by Dimitri, none would have been gauche enough to show it.
But not this woman. Her fear was written all over her face.
She doesn’t belong here.
Castor’s temper, already roused, began to seethe. He always checked his guest list rigorously and people who weren’t on it didn’t get in, and he was pretty sure this woman, whoever she was, hadn’t been on it.
So what she was doing here and how she’d got in, he had no idea.
What he did know was that he needed to get her out of Dimitri’s clutches and fast. The man was a brutal thug and Marie—who was ex-military and one of his security staff—would know how to deal with him.
‘Interesting?’ Dimitri echoed, frowning. ‘How interesting?’
Castor bent and murmured in Esme’s ear, ‘Off me, sweetheart. I’ll come and find you later.’
Esme slid off his lap without a protest and he got up, sending Tyler, who was playing the piano, an apologetic look.
Then he turned and headed for the doorway where Dimitri stood with Red Riding Hood, those dark eyes of hers getting rounder and rounder the closer he got. As if she’d never seen anything like him before in her entire life.
A small pulse of...something went through him, though what it was, he couldn’t tell. Strange. Lots of women looked at him that way. Women lovelier than she was, so why he should feel anything at all God only knew.
‘Come,’ he said easily, taking Dimitri by the arm. ‘Let me tell you about Lola.’
Dimitri frowned, but let go of the dark-eyed woman. She was trembling slightly. Castor couldn’t help but notice.
What on earth was she doing here? His parties were infamous, exclusive and wildly debauched, and they were not for the faint of heart.
What they were for was getting information from human traffickers about their operations so Castor could pass that on to the authorities.
It was not a place for someone who didn’t know what they were doing.
Marie, luckily, was standing near the doorway, dressed in a tight black cocktail dress that showed off her magnificent figure at the same time as it gave her room to move if there were any threats.
Castor signalled her and she approached, smiling at Dimitri. ‘Hi there,’ she murmured, taking him by the arm. ‘I’m Lola. Wanna go have some fun?’
