Page 36 of Beautifully Ruined

Harry:I’m sending some files to you. But not sure they fit someone who went missing 8 months ago. But I have an interest in our diplomatic bratva fool, who turned up with a ‘broken’ arm that rumor says is a gunshot. Any knowledge on that?

Me:I couldn’t possibly confirm or deny.

Harry:Andronski’s name is known in the elite trafficking circles. Not something that happens to the innocent.

Me:Fuck.

I openone of the files sent to me.

Pretty, young, rich, and important parents linked to politics. No report on her missing yet. They’d hired a lot of people until Harry.

He found her, but the man who’d bought her had been killed.

Lucky? Unlucky? I really don’t know. But there’s no trail back to Andronski.

I open another.

The girl managed to get free a few years ago. Not Harry’s client, but he seems to have amassed some in his search for the girls he has been hired to find. Which makes sense. Learn as much as possible to make each job faster.

Not one word in any of these about Ivan.

Me:You have contacts?

Harry:Of course, I do. Suspected that piece of shit Andronski of trafficking but can’t get anything to stick. Or I’d have handed him to you.

Me:Thanks. Keep me posted.

I gothrough it all again.

Why do these fuckers always get away with it? Bathing in Teflon?

The Ghost would annihilate Ivan in an instant, but to do that, I need evidence. And the tiny poke around on the computer at Ivan’s told me Ivan is completely old school.

He would do things by calls. In person. Word of fucking mouth.

Sure, it only takes one person to spill, but who is going to risk Ivan Andronski’s wrath?

If we hadn’t killed Isaac, Ivan would have.

Elite and bespoke trafficker, one I suspect deals with the regular kind behind other names. But it makes sense because, why have one girl kept prisoner for so long?

He’s using her parents for money, power, information, and then…he’ll sell her on.

Keeping her that long usually means the girl won’t see the light of freedom when a deal is finally done.

I feel her before I hear her or see her.

Vi.

And I can’t help the smile, or the uptick in the beat of my heart. Just like I can’t help that thing inside which makes me somehow complete.

She does that.

Fuck. Is Enzo actually right about her? That I liked her before I even realized it?

Probably. Yeah.

Her sweet scent of fresh flowers on a summer eve weaves around me, and she touches the back of my neck with her soft, warm fingers. “What are you doing?”