Page 86 of Fallen Heir

I gave a nod.

He moved to the corner, voice low but clipped.

“Lex, it’s Ben. I’m at a hot drop. Trafficking op—bodies cold. One still breathing. Sending coordinates now. We need medical and tactical response, fast.”

He hung up without waiting for questions.

That was Ben. Efficient. Connected. And always ten steps ahead.

I didn’t need to ask who Lex was. I just knew someone would be here. And soon. We’d successfully completed too many missions for me to start questioning his every move now.

My rage was boiling, and my heart was sinking with each room. Each body we found lifeless, a silent prayer that it wasn’t her as we searched their faces. And when it wasn’t, I felt a stab of relief. I should’ve felt remorse. I should’ve mourned them. But all I could feel was hope—hope that I hadn’t lost her yet.

Every hallway felt like it stretched deeper into the devil’s stomach. And still—I didn’t see her. I didn’tfeelher.

Until the final room.

It looked no different at first—mattresses, chains, rot.

But then I saw it.

Tucked under the edge of a stained sheet like it had fallen in a struggle.

A shimmer of gold.

The delicate gold chain was broken, one half looped through the small charm she never took off. My hand moved on instinct. I dropped to my knees, grabbed it—cold now, but not forgotten. She’d worn this every day since the moment I met her.

The charm was anS. Her initial. I knew exactly what it meant. Probably the only thing still reminding her of who she is.

I turned it over in my palm, the metal dull under the low light. I didn’t know if I could fix it. But I would. Or I’d replace it. Either way, she was getting it back. Because she had to be alive.

Ben stepped into the doorway, watching me with a clenched jaw.

“She was here,” I said, low. Certain. “She was right here.”

He gave a single nod. “Then she’s not far.”

Nic’s voice crackled through the earpiece, laced with static but steady. “You’re not going to like this,” she said. “Surveillance picked up a van about five minutes ago. Plates came back to a shell company Bruce used years ago—logistics front. It’s clean. No alerts. No stops. They know exactly what they were doing.”

Ben and I locked eyes as her voice continued in both our earpieces, each word pulling tighter on the wire inside my chest.

“Direction?” I asked.

“North.”

That was all I needed to hear.

We made our way back to the trucks. Millie was already pacing near the loading dock, arms crossed, eyes blazing.

“Don’t even start,” she snapped before I could say anything. “I’m going.”

“Millie—”

“She’s my best friend, Jaxson. You don’t get to make me sit this one out.”

But I wasn’t the one who stopped her.

Ben stepped forward, silent and immovable. “You’re not going.”