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He doesn’t need to.

We’ve been here many times. Though never quite like this.

I switch back. “Mak. Have you got comms in the room?”

There’s a slight pause, then Mak’s voice comes through, unruffled as ever. “It’s all under control, Dimitry. You and Roman need to get to that auction room.”

I frown. I’m starting to get a really bad fucking feeling.

“I’ve got no ears in the room,” I snap. “Put Leon on. I need to know what’s happening.”

“That might be difficult.” Mak’s voice is light. “Leon isn’t with me.”

What the fuck?

I stare at Roman. “Leon’s gone,” I say blankly.

His face contorts into fury. “I fucking knew that bastard was planning something.”

In the distance, I hear a shot. Then more. Coming from the direction of the auction room.

“Whatever treasonous fuckery this is, Mak, I don’t have time for it.” I glance around, trying to gauge where we’re at.

“No treason, Dimitry.” Mak sounds positively delighted. “Just a fortunate convergence of priorities. Do trust me. And I advise you to think before pulling triggers in haste.”

There’s a sudden, deafening explosion behind us, in the dormitories.

I stare at Roman, my mind racing and the urge to murder Leon surging through me. But that will need to come later.

“Leon’s gone rogue,” I say into my comms. “We’re likely going in hot.”

“Yeah” comes Luke’s rather dry response, as I hear gunfire in the background. “Copythat.”

Roman and I race across the compound, keeping low to the ground. There’s not much point hugging shadows anymore. All hell is breaking loose, in every direction. Guests in evening wear erupt out of the sliding glass doors at the front of the hotel, screaming as they run toward the helicopter hangar at the rear.

We let them go. The billionaire guests at the auction aren’t my concern.

But whatever has made them run screaming is another thing entirely. The hotel was supposed to be the last point of contact. The operation was strategically planned to isolate everything before Jacey even knew what was happening.

I shoot Roman a look. “FUBAR,” I say.Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.

He nods. “No shit.”

“Abby.” My voice cracks. “I’m going in.”

Roman nods again. “Let’s go, brother.”

A group of guards spot us from behind and yell out as they start shooting. Bullets crash into the fountain out front of the hotel as we race around it. We don’t stop, just keep firing behind us as we run through the broken glass, toward the foyer. “No grenades,” I yell as I see Roman reach for one. “I don’t know where she is.”

He nods and throws the grenade behind him instead of through the doors. I pick off the rest of the men following us as we crash into the foyer. To my surprise, the hotel reception area is already littered with dead bodies.

Someone has already made a mess here.

A group of women in evening wear are still inside. It takes me a minute to notice the guns in their hands and to realize it’s the women themselves who are thesomeonewho made that mess.

“Don’t shoot.” The woman who speaks is tall, well muscled, and extremely grim-looking. “We’re Zinaida Melikov’s team.”

“What the fuck,” I say blankly.