Page 5

“Here.” I slip a business card into her hand. “Call me anytime. Day or night.”

She looks down at it, her fingers trembling slightly. “Thanks,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

I shut the door and watch as the car pulls away, taillights disappearing into the dark. The ache in my chest doesn’t fade. If anything, it deepens.

Back inside the club, the air feels heavier, the music louder. I scan the room, but Giscard’s nowhere to be seen. I approach the bar, catching the bartender’s eye.

“Where’s Lalonde?” I ask, my tone casual but my focus razor-sharp.

“Retired for the night,” he says, not looking up from the glass he’s polishing. “Sixth floor.”

Of course. The forbidden floor. No invitation, no access. My frustration simmers beneath the surface, but I keep my expression neutral.

I leave the club, the cool night air doing little to clear my head. The drive back to my Greenwich Village condo is a blur of neon and shadows. My mind’s already spinning, plotting the next move, but beneath it all, there’s a single, unshakable thought:She’s not safe.

I’m back in the penthouse, pacing. The city’s sprawl stretches below me, lit up like a carnival, but I’m not seeing it. My mind’s locked on two things: Giscard’s sixth floor and Raven. The sixth floor is a fortress—impenetrable without an invitation. And Raven’s caught in the crossfire just by being at that damned club. Women vanish from Area 51 like ghosts, and Giscard’s always there, smooth and unreadable, his hands clean of blood but dripping with suspicion.

My phone buzzes on the counter. I snatch it up.

“Kirk.” It’s Jareth, my tech guy, his voice crackling through the line. “Got some intel on Lalonde. You’re not gonna like it.”

“Try me.”

“He’s been making a lot of trips internationally. Russia, China, a few stops in the Middle East. All places with high-level defense contracts. And get this—every time he returns, another girl goes missing. Five in the last six months. All staff from Area 51.”

My grip tightens on the phone. “Pattern?”

“Too clean to be coincidence. He’s targeting them, Kirk. And your girl Raven’s been working there, what? A month? She’s on borrowed time.”

“She’s not my girl.” The words come out sharper than I intend. “She’s a liability.”

“Bullshit. You kissed her. You don’t kiss liabilities.”

“It was a maneuver.”

“Right. A maneuver.” Jareth’s tone is dry. “Look, I get it. You’re the Iceman. Emotions are for lesser beings and all that. But if she’s got Giscard’s attention, she’s in deep. You either pull her out or protect her. Either way, make a call.”

I exhale, the tension in my chest tightening. “What about the sixth floor?”

“Still nothing. That place is locked down tighter than Fort Knox. No heat signatures, no audio. Whoever’s running their security is a goddamn wizard. You’re not getting in without an invite.”

“Then I’ll get an invite.” My voice drops, cold and determined. “Lalonde’s throwing a private event tomorrow night. By invitation only.”

“You think he’ll bite?”

“He’ll bite. He’s too curious about me to ignore me now. But that’s not all. I need eyes on Raven. She’s not going back to that club.”

“You want me to babysit her?”

“No. I want you to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. She’s stubborn, scrappy. If she thinks she’s being watched, she’ll bolt.”

“Understood. But Kirk—be careful. Giscard isn't just any player. He’s Grolgath. That means he’s got resources, and he’s not above disappearing people himself.”

“I know.” My eyes narrow, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold. “That’s why I’m ending this.”

As I hang up, my gaze lands on the business card I gave her. It’s still sitting on the counter, untouched. She didn’t call. Not that I expected her to. Trust isn’t in her vocabulary, and after tonight, it’s even less likely. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s in danger because of me.

Two missions now. Expose Giscard and the Grolgath’s operation. And keep Raven safe from them. Both are tangled together, a knot I’ll have to cut through one way or another. But first, I’ll need to get closer to Giscard. Close enough to see the scales beneath his skin.