Page 66 of No Longer Mine

I didn’t stop running until I was half a block away, my breath ragged, my pulse hammering. I forced myself to slow, to walk like I belonged on this street at this hour. To not look like a woman who had just bolted from a man who was dangerously close to owning every single part of her.

He let me go.

That fact gnawed at me, gnawed at the part of me that hated loose ends. That hated the unknown. Dimitri Cristof didn’t let things slip through his fingers.

So why the hell had he let me go?

The flash drive burned in my grip. I clenched my fingers around it, tucking it into my pocket like it was just some trinket instead of a live grenade that could blow up everything.

I needed to get back. I needed to talk to Oliver.

I hailed a cab, my body still humming with leftover adrenaline as I slid into the back seat. The driver barely spared me a glance, his tired eyes fixed on the road.

“Where to?”

I rattled off the address to the safe house, my voice steady despite the storm brewing in my chest.

Oliver was waiting for me when I got back to the safe house. He was pacing the carpet in front of the TV. When he spotted me coming through the front door, he immediately stopped and ran to me. “You went to see Cristof.”

“How did you know I would come here?”

“He would follow you to your own home. Plus, I’ve been here all night. I knew there was a chance you would come here after you were done at Crenshaw’s place.”

He pulled me into his arms; I inhaled the familiar scent of disinfectant and some cheap cologne he used. It was comforting in its own way. I hugged him tight before I let go and threw my bag onto the counter. The stacks of cash were still in there, as well as the few jewelry pieces I’d stolen. The flash drive was still clenched tight in one of my fists.

I pried my fingers open and held out my open hand to Oliver. “This was in Gavin’s home. I thought it might help us.” I fished my phone out of my pocket and threw it onto the counterbeside the bag. “I also have pictures of what he’s involved in. Trafficking.”

The entire night came rushing back to me, and before I knew it, I was shaking. My entire body was a trembling mess. He was involved in trafficking, and somehow I hadn’t ended up a victim.

Oliver’s expression shifted from relief to something much darker. His fingers wrapped around the flash drive, his grip firm like he could crush it between his knuckles if he tried. His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his voice too controlled. That was always the first sign Oliver was about to lose his shit—he got quiet, sharp.

I exhaled sharply, stepping back, needing distance. “I’m fine.”

Oliver gave me a look. The one that said he knew I was full of shit.

“Did he hurt you?”

The question was quiet but lethal, like he was already planning Dimitri Cristof’s imminent death.

“No,” I said, maybe too quickly. “He—he saw the drive, but he let me go.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed. “Why the hell would he do that?”

I didn’t have an answer.

Oliver turned on his heel and stomped toward his laptop, already plugging the drive in, preparing to tear apart every single file inside it.

Oliver swore. “Its encryptions have encryptions. It’s going to take me hours to get into this, much less through it. Why don’t you go get some rest? I’ll wake you if I find something.”

I nodded my head, though I knew sleep was the last thing that would help me tonight.

Chapter Thirty-One

Dimitri

I tightenedmy grip on the glass in my hand, the amber liquid sloshing slightly as I stared at the city skyline beyond my office window. Two weeks. Two weeks since she’d stood in my bedroom, her eyes flashing with defiance, her body pressed against mine like she was daring me to break her.