Page 30 of Gilded

LUKA

I swivel my chair side to side, trying to fish out whatever my subconscious is struggling with. No matter what situation she’s put in, she never shows any of the dark traits of people living in the trafficking world.

I’m afraid she’s become a blind spot.

I stand and turn toward the guards, bullshitting among themselves. “Why do you all dislike her so much?”

A look passes among the men before James says, “Just watch your dick. She’ll cut it off and stuff it in your mouth. She’s done it before.”

A glance at the other two tells me I won’t be getting any more information, and my mind is spinning with doubt. But all it takes is one memory of the fresh blood transferred to my pants when I lifted Malia off my lap to confirm she is—was—a virgin.

She could have led someone on or had an emotional affair with the promise of more. Her virginity would have been a huge turn-on to a lot of men.

“What are you saying?” I demand. “That she uses sex as a weapon?”

“Most of us want to live more than we want to fuck her.”

“ Most of you? Stop with the fucking riddles.”

“She’s as manipulative as her father.” James refocuses on dealing cards to the other men. “You’ve been warned.”

The men pick up their cards and ignore me. I pace toward the front of the plane and call Jairo.

He picks up on the first ring. “How’s it going, boss?”

“I’ve been better. Give me something new.”

“I’ve got a blip in the employment records that’s interesting. One of the guards stopped showing up on the payroll the day Malia says she tried to leave the island.”

My brain clicks a puzzle piece into place. “He was helping her.”

“That’s my guess. Google says he went missing, and the boat he used to go to and from the island was found drifting out at sea, nobody aboard. I just sent you his information.”

My heart unexpectedly fills with jealousy. “Another fucking half-truth. How long did he work there?”

“Looks like a year.”

A year . She knew this guy for a fucking year ?

“I’ll dig deeper,” Jairo says. “See what comes up.”

I scan my mind for the locations of my guys. Diallo is the closest, in Yemen recruiting workers. “Send Diallo to me instead of having him go home. I want some backup.”

“You got it.”

I disconnect, and Jairo’s message pings on my phone. Yari Slavic. Forty-two.

I head to the bedroom and enter without knocking.

Malia is sitting on the side of the bed, her gaze out the window, a Lego moving between her fingers.

After her shower, she dressed in black jeans, a white hoodie, and Converse.

She looks so normal. So young. Like any young adult I’d pass on the streets of New York.

It’s like seeing a different part of her.

When I close the door, she drops her head on an exhale. “I really am tired.”

I sit in the chair facing her and don’t wait for her gaze to meet mine before I say, “Yari Slavic.”

She pulls in a sharp breath, and her head comes up. Pain breaks across her face. As I wait for her answer, tears gather in her eyes, and the realization that she really cared about this guy twists inside me.

“How did you hear about Yari?” she asks.

“Tell me what really happened the night you tried to leave the island.”

“I’ve told you. I left Yari out because…” She pulls in a shaky breath. “It hurts. Losing him really hurts.”

“Did you love him?” The words fall out of my mouth and hang between us, as ugly as they feel. They expose my weakness for her. Jairo’s right, she really is under my skin.

“Are you asking if we were having an affair?” She huffs and looks out the window shaking her head. “Why does everyone think a friendship between a man and woman has to include sex?”

“Because ninety-nine point nine-nine-nine percent of the time, it does.”

She cuts a look at me and holds my gaze, “Then our relationship was that one-hundredth of one percent. You, of all people, should know that. He was the only person at home who was nice to me. Who cared about me. He was a good man, and he had a fucking family.”

A good man.

Those words stick in my ribs, reminding me that I’m anything but good.

“He hated the way I was treated, so he worked his way into becoming my bodyguard so he could act as a buffer. He was easy to talk to. Kind. He told me how the real world works. We spent a lot of time talking about his family and how much he lov?—”

She chokes on the words, takes a breath, and continues. “Then I learned what my father does, and Yari agreed to help me get away. That’s why I told you not to show me any favoritism. They’re hyper-aware of how people treat me now. And they’re willing to kill anyone who tries to help me.”

I lift her chin until her gaze meets mine. “No more half-truths. I need to know what’s going on in this house.”

“ Half-truths? I’ve been nothing but honest with you. I can’t read your mind. I can’t know what you need, and I don’t know enough about what’s going on in that house to understand anything.”

“You didn’t think it would be beneficial to me to know your father killed a man close to you?”

“Soren is the one who put you close to me. My father condoned it, and you accepted it. If there’s a problem, it’s not on me. Yari’s death was my fault. I asked him to help.” Her breathing grows choppy. “But I’m telling you not to, because I can’t watch you die too.”

Tears slip over her lashes. I desensitized myself to crying a long damn time ago. Nothing can kill your soul faster than listening to a stolen child cry for their parents, but her pain cuts right through me.

I pull her into my lap, and she melts into me, crying harder.

Fuck me.

I stand and transfer her to the bed, lying beside her. She curls onto her side, facing me, head on my shoulder, arm tight across my body like she’s afraid I’ll disappear.

“I’m sorry, love.” Those words feel strange on my tongue. Even stranger in my body. The last time I apologized, I was living at the work camp, begging a guard not to punish me. It never worked, but I clung to hope that one time it would.

She calms and eventually falls asleep, leaving me with lingering doubt.

We’re heading into a critical phase of this mission, and I need to know exactly how honest she’s being, because it’s not just my life on the line, it’s my men’s.

And she has the potential to be a gifted manipulator. After all, she learned from the best.