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“I like challenges,” he hisses, his breath hot against my cheeks. “And I don’t ever back down from them.”
I swallow hard. My skin prickles under his devious stare, so much fire glittering in his eyes. My heart thumps hard as the fabric slips from my grip and I push away from him. “Why are you here?”
I need to focus on the reason why my life is about to get turned upside down again, not the fact that my insides are melting because of the scorching heat radiating through me right now.
“What you need to know is that Quinn wandered into the lion’s den and set fire to it. And the lion is the Sinalia Cartel.”
“Those fuckers stepped too close to the line when they invaded my neighborhood.” Quinn’s expression darkens. “I just showed ’em what would happen if they got real stupid and crossed it.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and crack my knuckles one at a time while I process.
“You know that’ll give you early arthritis.”
My eyes float open. I flip Quinn off when I finish cracking my middle finger.
“So you’re basically tethering me to this guy, even though you know damn well that I can follow this new trail of breadcrumbs on my own and find Branko.”
“What is this, Rumpelstiltskin or some shit?” Quinn’s face pinches with confusion.
“No, dumbass. Breadcrumbs would be Hansel and fucking Gretel,” I scream, slamming my fists against my legs. I turn to Alek. “I’ve done everything you asked over the past few years. If you have something, let me run with it alone.”
“Can’t.” Alek walks over to the corner of his office and plucks the crystal stopper out of a bottle. He pours clear liquid into a highball glass and drops in a few ice cubes. With a long look at me, he sloshes the drink around the glass. There’s no label, but I know it’s Beluga vodka. His favorite. Despite being Russian, he’s a total vodka snob.
“Why not?” My voice shakes, and dammit, it pisses me off.
Showing weakness is the worst thing I can possibly do, especially as a woman. I have to be strong, always. That’s one of the things Kat always drilled into me from the first time I trained with her after my escape from that sex auction so many years ago. The one Charly wasn’t lucky enough to survive.
I haven’t thought about that night in so long. I used to think about the guy who saved me pretty often, wondering if I’d ever meet him again, then immediately wishing I wouldn’t since he saw me at my very worst. I buried that pathetic version of myself down deep along with the guilt of not being able to save Charly.
Forcing the memories to the back of my mind, I tap the toe of my flip-flop on the floor. “Hello?”
Alek takes a long gulp of the vodka, so it’s a long, agonizing minute before he speaks. “Based on intel my data team found, we have a link to Luis Navarro through the Sinalia Cartel.”
“The cartel that’s trying to take over my neighborhood,” Quinn mutters.
“The organization Luis heads up has cells in a lot of different cities, Vegas being one of them. They’re known for hosting sex parties where young girls are brought in with the hopes of being ‘discovered’ by supposed producers and directors and agents. Instead, they’re targeted by buyers and then ‘disappear.’”
“And by ‘disappear,’ you mean sold.” The words rake over my skin like the sharpest fork.
“Yes. Now, we know Colon is reclusive, like Branko. But if we get to him, we can nail Branko. And the guys found another connection, too.” Alek raises his glass. “Your almost-father-in-law.”
“Denis Stepanov?” My eyes narrow. “That rat bastard.”
“Yeah, well, thanks to your brothers, Nathan Van Dyne was encouraged to give him up. That’s two people who can lead us straight to the fucking toxic source of this ring.”
“Great that we have more to go on, but that still doesn’t explain why we need to get married.”
“The only way in is through membership. These guys are greedy scumbags and they want to attract money to build new hotels, host more parties, and smuggle as many girls as they can find. But you can’t just go in there waving a checkbook in front of them. You need to be one of them. They don’t want questionable money. They want legitimate business people funding their dealings because it’s cleaner. Keeps them off the radar.”
“Also, they want people to be part of the life they provide through their clubs and parties. Husbands and wives. It’s a commitment thing. They want to know you’re not a fly-by-night, and singles don’t have the same level of commitment that a married couple does. Shows you’re stable, even though it is kind of bullshit,” Kazimir says. “One of the requirements is that all applicants are married. No marriage certificate, no entry.”
“There are plenty of people who have sham weddings to get access to things like this. Why the hell should it matter? How does it really set people apart?”
Kazimir shrugs. “Not our rules.”
“It’s ridiculous. It doesn’t mean anything.” I let out a huff.
“It’s perception. Once you’re married, the paperwork will be expedited. You’ll be a shoo-in because of the family line and alias we had created for you. Money, husband, boom. You’re in.”
