Page 50 of Always A Villain

“Well, fuck me,” Arsen mutters, the weight of the realization sinking in. “That’s one hell of a common thread. How the hell did I miss that?”

I shake my head, teeth grinding. “I didn’t piece it together either.”

Arsen lifts an eyebrow.

“Rory did.”

His smirk is quick. “No shit.”

“This is a fucking human trafficking operation,” I growl.

He shakes his head. “The Sovereign don’t deal in human trafficking.”

“NottheSovereign,” I snap. “ASovereign.”

He goes still.

“Think about it, Arsen. We control ports in Spain and Portugal. Someone with enough pull could use those routes to move kids—ship ’em across the ocean, cut deals with existing networks, and rake in the profits. And no one would look twice at the Sovereign.”

His eyes narrow, skepticism flickering. “That’s a big assumption. You can’t know that for sure.”

I glare at him. “Got a better explanation?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just rubs a hand over his face, frustration burning in his eyes.

“We need to tell Isaac,” he mutters.

“What? No. Not yet. We don’t have anything solid. This is just a hunch. We need more information.”

“It’s not just a hunch. You’re probably right.”

“But we can’t pull Isaac in until we’ve got something concrete,” I bite out. “We have no names. No proof. Just a fucking theory.”

Arsen nods, though reluctantly. “Fine. We’ll tell him when we have something solid. Let’s narrow down where these men crossed paths, dig into the missing kids' reports.”

“And check the port logs,” I add, mind spinning. “Especially over the last five years. See if anything looks off.”

“Good idea.” Arsen moves toward the computers, already dialing in.

My phone buzzes. I glance down, expecting more intel, but instead, my stomach twists when I see the message.

Rory

I need you. Please.

The Pavilion.

For a second, I stare at the screen blankly. Then it clicks. She’s not texting me—she’s textinghim—the masked man. My grip tightens on the phone until the plastic case cracks in my hand.

The urge to destroy something,everything, surges through me. I'm going to kill her. She's fucking asking for the masked man?

“Arsen, I gotta go. Call me if anything changes,” I snarl, shoving my phone deep into my pocket.

I gave her everything. Held her. Fucked her. Cleaned the blood off her skin. Let her fall asleep in my arms.

And now she wants him?

What the fuck is wrong with her?