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“You don’t start big, you start small. Like Strat said, he broke with Ludlow years ago because of the product. Back then, it was hookers and testing the boundaries. Escalating to respectable women who’d be missed would’ve taken time. Now we find out they’re cocky enough to think they can control three?”
“They’ve been doing this a while.”
“Which means more victims. A lot more victims.”
“And you’ve got to wonder,” he said, glancing her way. “What will they progress to next?”
Not a pleasant thought, but someone had to have it. From three women, would they go to five? Go to more upper-class women? Instead of making home videos, would the Manzanis let their asshole customers take the women home?
Wow, just a hop, skip, and a jump to human trafficking. Something the Manzanis did engage in, if Sersha’s intel was correct.
They got to the Carlyle and parked on the same street as before.
“Will they see us here?”
“If they’re looking for us, they’ll see us wherever we are.” He cut the engine. “The big leagues play with different stakes.”
“It has to be Silvio Manzani, right? He has to be the one behind this.”
“Hell’s in prison. Vex is too caught up in himself, and Atlas took off long ago. Don’t blame him for that.”
“Did you ever think about it? Leaving the city?”
“Leaving it for what? To get away from this shit? Strat always told us to maintain our independence, never to ally ourselves. It happens slow, being in deep like that. And it’s a high to be included, involved, admired.”
“You were young.”
“Yeah. Walking away wasn’t easy. Not a lot of guys get away with it.”
“How did you?”
“I took a risk.” He glanced her way. “A calculated risk.”
“And it paid off?”
He raised his hands from his lap. “I’m here, right?”
Yes, back on the fringes of the Manzani world at her behest. “I’m sorry I brought you back into—”
“No more apologies,” he said, taking her hand. “We’re doing what needs to be done. I’ll always be with you for whatever you need.”
“My safety net.”
“Yeah.”
Man, she wished that were true. Leaning in, she intended to show her gratitude, but something caught his eye in the wing mirror and he sank back.
“Shit.”
A body appeared at the side window, a knuckle rapped on the glass.
“Who is that?” she whispered, almost afraid to ask. “A cop?” But there was no uniform. A plainclothes cop? If only wishing made it so. The guy bowed, revealing himself. Swerve. Again. “Jagg.”
She tried to grab for him, but he reached for the door. “Stay here,” he murmured back to her, slipping the key onto the center console. “Don’t get out of the car, no matter what happens. If it goes south, leave. Take the car and go, get back to Ford.”
“I can’t just—”
But he was already out of the vehicle.
