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“It’s Huntske. I mean, Jansen, he’s—”
“I thought you had that asshole sorted?” I interrupt. I hear Kris sigh on the other end.
“Apparently, he isn’t our onlyproblem. I’m sending you a link now.”
I click the phone shut and open my messages, the link opening immediately to a video of some kind of press conference. A pretty, middle-aged brunette stands at a podium with a large banner for the Department of Home and Human Services behind her. My brow furrows together as I fast forward a few minutes into her speech.
“And we here atthe Department of Home and Human Services are committed to working alongside relevant government agencies and fellow non-profits to prevent and cease the trafficking of human beings throughout the Netherlands and other parts of Europe. Though my husband is missing, I have no doubts….”
My mind wandersas the woman continues to speak. Another man steps up to the podium as applause rains down.
“Thank you,Andrea Jansen, for taking the time to speak with us today….”
I closethe video and put my phone down on the table, my eyes fixed on the bath bubbles slowly melting in front of me. Despite my racing mind, my heart is still beating slow and steady. It’s not fear that I’m gripped by so much as a need to be decisive.
Grabbing my phone once more, I rapid fire a message to Hannah telling her to find out more about this Andrea woman, who I can only assume is the wife of the meat bag downstairs. I close my eyes and lean back to the tub while I wait.
Despite the hour, Hannah doesn’t disappoint, and within minutes, PDC links with Andrea’s full background are in front of me. My frown deepens as I read until I dial Kris again.
“How the fuck did this happen?” I ask him.
He doesn’t reply immediately, and I feel anger rise within me.
My supposed head of security somehow let one of the heads of the largest international anti-trafficking organization inside my fucking walls. What’s worse, his wife is still out there.
“Meet me at seven in my office,” I command before I close the phone and throw it across the room so it lands in a pile of linens. Leaning forward, I pull the stopper on the tub and sigh.
No rest for the wicked.
* * *
It’s7:05 AM when Kris strides into my office. His face is severe, the angles of his cheeks more pronounced than usual. He looks like he hasn’t slept, with dark bags under his eyes. I feel no empathy as I narrow my eyes at him.
He looks over to where Sin is chained, the bag still over his head from yesterday. I haven’t said a word to my prisoner since I arrived, though I see how he shifts his head as Kris closes the door.
“How the fuck did this happen?” I ask Kris again, sitting back in my chair. A muscle twitches in his jaw as he glances at Sin, but I shake my head. I don’t give a shit about him being here, I need fucking answers.
“He was a referral,” Kris replies with a tight voice. “Henry had been on PDC duty.”
My teeth grind together at his words as I fight to keep my calm demeanor.
“So not only did you let Henry almost get away with vital information, but you also didn’t pay enough attention to realize that some of the biggest contracts of the year were vetted by the same man. And you did no follow up.”
Kris says nothing, standing in front of my desk with his legs spread and arms clasped behind his back.
“What the fuck do you do here again?”
His eyes narrow. “Watch it, Galina,” he retorts in Russian.
I dart a short glance to Sin.
“He speaks Russian,” I tell Kris in Cantonese, shaking his head.
“Why do you keep him here? Why haven’t you gotten rid of him? You think it’s smart to let him hear our business?” he replies in the same language.
“He’s never leaving this compound, so that’s not a concern,” I say in English as I stand. Ignoring the second question. “Huntske, on the other hand. And Henry….”
I make my way around the desk until I’m standing in front of my brother. He doesn’t flinch, looking down at me with a straight face.
