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From the rearview, I see the concern etched on his face.
I exhale, cutting off their banter. “Where exactly are we going?”
Nick’s amusement fades. “Micah’s been funneling money through a small investment firm so we’re going to pay them a visit. He used the company to cover his tracks, buy properties under false identities, and I believe that includes a house upstate. If we confront them and get someone to talk, we can nail down the exact location of where he’s hiding Mia.”
The memory of Harper’s terrified face back on the mountain claws at me, and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. If I find Rhodes first, I might tear him apart with my bare hands.
“And if they won’t cooperate?” I ask.
Asher meets my gaze in the rearview mirror, voice ice cold as he says, “They’ll cooperate.”
The determination in his eyes leaves no doubt. This isn’t business anymore; it’s deeply personal for him, too, especially after everything Micah put Billie and Harper through.
We pull up outside a sleek glass-and-steel building that blends seamlessly into the upscale buildings surrounding it. My heart pounds steadily as I park the SUV and kill the engine.
Nick glances at me, his expression grim. “Let’s keep it professional, gentlemen. We need actionable intel, not more headaches.”
Asher scoffs, adjusting his jacket. “Speak for your-fucking-self.”
We exit the SUV swiftly, moving through the bustling lobby like shadows, drawing curious stares from late commuters. My pulse remains a steady drumbeat as we step into the elevator, moving rapidly toward the top-floor offices. When the doors slide open, a sleek reception area greets us. I step forward first, posture rigid with barely restrained anger. The receptionist looks up, startled by our sudden arrival.
“I’m sorry, do you have an appointment?” she asks.
“No,” I reply shortly. “But we need to speak with whoever’s in charge. Right now.”
She hesitates, eyes flicking nervously from me to Nick and Asher behind me, clearly weighing her options.
Asher steps smoothly forward, placing his business card firmly on her desk, his tone dangerously calm. “Tell them it’s urgent. I promise they’ll want to hear what we have to say.”
She picks up the card, her eyes widening in recognition. Asher is known as the Boogeyman of Business and can destroy any company’s reputation if he wants. Most in the city are scared of what he can do. Without another word, she quickly picks up the phone, dialing with trembling fingers.
The clock ticks louder with each passing second.
Mia is counting on us. Harper and Billie are counting on us.
Micah Rhodes won’t see us coming.
Within minutes, we’re ushered into an expansive corner office. Its large windows reveal an incredible view of downtown Manhattan. At the desk sits a well-dressed man in his late fifties, clearly used to this. His gaze narrows suspiciously as we enter, taking in our expressions carefully before gesturing for us to take the empty seats in front of him.
“I’m Garrett Vaughn. What’s so urgent?” His voice is calm but cautious. He glances up at the clock on the wall, making note of the time.
I watch him, keeping my gaze directly on his.
Nick closes the door behind us, subtly positioning himself to block any easy exit. I lower myself into one of the chairs, leaning forward, locking eyes with Vaughn.
“Micah Rhodes,” I say coldly, skipping pleasantries. “He’s one of your clients. We need everything you have on him. Now.”
Vaughn’s eyes harden. “I’m sorry, but client confidentiality?—”
“Your client has kidnappedanotherwoman,” Asher interrupts, tone deadly serious as he drops casually into the seat beside mine. “Mia Karrington, the chief marketing officer of Bellamore. There are handfuls of women tied to him who have disappeared, and trust me, you do not want your company tangled up in this. It’s enough to destroy you.”
Vaughn visibly pales. He swallows hard, trying to regain control. “I hope you have proof because that’s a very serious accus?—”
“We have plenty,” Nick cuts in smoothly from behind us. “More than enough to send Micah away for life and drag your firm down in the process if you keep stonewalling.”
The man’s gaze flickers nervously between us, hesitation clear in every subtle movement. My fists clench; impatience takes hold.
“Every minute wasted is a minute Mia might not have,” I growl. My voice is barely restrained. “You really want that on your hands?”