Page 36 of Gilded

LUKA

I pound another seven-and-seven, looking out over Central Park, lost in misery.

Since Nairobi, I’ve been feeling wickedly dark and wildly impulsive. As much as I wanted to do nothing more than spend the last couple of days with Malia, I need to find an escape route for her—without blowing this once-in-a-lifetime chance to crush this devil’s empire.

I told Tarik and Zeiger I’m ramping up the manpower for the takeover.

But I’m still as twisted as when I got here, with no more idea of how to keep her away from Zeiger than when I came.

She’s been innocent from the start, and I’ve wasted precious time I could have used to form an escape plan for her.

But all my options seem to have evaporated.

I haven’t taught her half of what I should have, and I somehow keep thinking I have more time. She may think she’s got the basics covered via the internet, but there’s a lot she doesn’t know. A lot .

Jairo walks in and dumps a pile of reports onto the dining room table, followed by several thumb drives. “Xavi did it. South America is done.”

Excitement zings hope back into my heart.

I move to the table, pick up a report on the top of the pile, and leaf through it.

They’re as detailed as I expect. These men do incredible work.

Floor plans, site plans, staff details, weapons and supplies available, a detailed security grid with graduated manpower based on the number of detainees, and finally, three different escape routes if things go south.

Then Malachi calculated the numbers, validating my assertion of the money Tarik will save by following these plans, and it’s a nine-digit figure.

What brings the whole thing home to me is the number and age of the victims. Most are on the young side, children and teens. Real people who have been plucked out of their lives, taken from their families, and thrown into hell. Real people suffering the way my team and I suffered.

“These are perfect.” The only viable plan I’ve been able to come up with is to show them what we’re capable of and then pitching the idea of getting all the locations right now. As soon as we have them, I can end Tarik and Zeiger.

It’s the best, most viable plan we have, which isn’t making me feel any better. I know it’s a long shot.

“But we may have a problem with Malia.”

I lose all interest in the reports. “What problem?”

“She’s been searching for information on overdosing and death with Oxycodone and Xanax.”

I plant my hands on the table, drop my head, and exhale hard.

“Where would she get those drugs?” Jairo asks.

“Their private doctor is generous with his prescriptions. Could you tell if she was thinking about killing someone else or killing herself?”

“There was no mention of suicide, but there’s no telling.”

“ Fuck .” I push off the table. Knowing she won’t be at the house after the wedding, knowing I won’t be able to check on her myself, gives me an irrational sense of panic. “Have you been able to kill the trust contract?”

“Davey’s handling it, but it won’t keep Tarik from taking what he wants, whether she’s signed it over to him or not.”

Davey is my attorney and one of the most intelligent men I’ve ever met. Knowing he can save the trust for her gives me a sliver of satisfaction and hope for her future.

“For now,” I say. “But when they’re gone, it will be there for her.”

My phone pings with a message from Simms. Waiting.

I text back: Wait a little more. In the middle of something.

“It’s smart to bring him in,” Jairo says.

“Stop reading my texts,” I snipe with no heat.

“I know it’s hard to give up control of something we’ve been working toward for decades, but it will catch more fuckers faster, before they have the chance to hurt more people.”

Malia is the reason I’m approaching Simms. Malia’s freedom. Malia’s future. Before Malia, I wouldn’t even entertain the idea of letting someone else in. Before Malia, I wanted to rip every goddamn piece of Tarik’s empire away myself, piece by excruciating piece.

“I just hope the red tape doesn’t tie his hands,” I tell Jairo.

“Only one way to find out.”

I stare at the ocean. “Zeiger will destroy her. How can I just leave her with him? She’s not tough that way. She’s so fucking innocent.”

“You know I’ve always hated the let-one-perish-to-save-many mentality.” Jairo’s voice holds understanding. “That said, you’ve known her a month, and you’ve been working toward this for twenty years. Think of how many other innocent people we can save with this information.”

Jesus, that’s a heartbreaking truth.

“We could have probably maneuvered some kind of intervention if it hadn’t taken you so long to decide she’s on the right side of this,” Jairo says. “But twenty-four hours isn’t enough to get it planned and executed without risking everything.”

We’ve brainstormed ways to get her out of this for days, but Jairo’s right. I wasted valuable time trying to prove to myself she’s not involved. Spent too much time worrying about my own preservation instead of hers.

“Thanks for rubbing that in, asshole.”

My phone pings with Simms’s: I’m in the middle of things too .

I ignore it. My chest is twisted into a knot that makes it hard to breathe.

Another ping lights my temper, but when I pull up my phone to write a scathing return text to Simms, I find a message from Malia that simply reads, Hi.

My heart rises to my throat.

My phone pings again. Are you okay? Will I see you today?

I text her back. I’m fine, love. Just tending to business. I’ll be back soon.

She returns a heart emoji. I’m staring at it when Jairo makes a negative sound in his throat. “Looks like she may have caught feelings.”

“I’m going to start putting blinders on you.”

“Sounds like you might have caught some too.”

I scowl at him, but Jairo just smirks and lifts his brows. “A little young for you.”

“She’s naive, but she’s not immature.”

“Yeah, that heart emoji screams mature to me too.”

“You’re making me want to punch you.”

He takes one giant step back. “Does this mean we won’t get to train her with you?”

“Fucker.”

I move to the window and let my gaze blur over Central Park. I catch sight of St. Patrick’s spire, turning my mind in another direction. We’ve been focused on getting Malia out from the inside. But not controlling things from the outside.

“The church is booked years out,” I say while the idea still takes shape. “If we stop the wedding from happening tomorrow, they couldn’t just reschedule it.”

“Several thousand dollars and all the strongest contacts in New York would encourage the priest to set up a special ceremony after hours. Short of setting the church on fire, I don’t see?—”

I cut a look at him, and he reads it immediately.

“Dude, we’re not burning down an iconic cathedral.”

I return a petulant “We’ve done worse.”

“Even that won’t help, because she’s twenty-one today. Tarik doesn’t need her anymore. Zeiger can still claim her without a wedding.”

“I’ve never wanted to kill someone so badly in my life.”

A headache has developed at the base of my brain, spreading upward like squeezing hands.

If I kill Tarik, I don’t get the locations of his facilities.

If I kill Zeiger, even if I managed to make it look like a rival, Tarik will go on lockdown until he feels safe again.

And with no need for Malia, he’d kill her in a heartbeat.

“What if we sent the guys to stage another uprising somewhere? They both jetted off at the mention of issues in Colombia.”

Jairo doesn’t answer, and when I look at him, he’s just staring back at me with that we-talked-about-this-already look on his face. Because we have talked about it. We’ve talked about all of it, and every idea had one or more fatal flaws.

I. Fucking. Hate. This.

“You better get downstairs,” Jairo says. “Simms sucks at waiting.”

“You’ll come back to the island with me. Add some credibility to my plans. Maybe your smooth talking will get them to release more locations.”

Jairo sputters a laugh and shakes his head. “I’ll go, but don’t count on me being able to do anything you couldn’t.”

“And we can have another set of eyes on Malia. I don’t want her off our radar for even a second.”

“Can’t wait to meet the woman who’s got the unrelenting warrior wrapped around her finger.” Jairo hands me several reports with a thumb drive. “Duplicates for Simms. Get out of here.”

On the elevator ride to the lobby, I call my assistant.

“Hi,” Barbie answers, distracted. I tasked her with digging into Malia’s grandparents. “I’m still working on it. The shipping company looks legit. Their books are clean. Their employees squeaky. I’ll have to go deeper.”

“I need a birthday gift.”

“Aw,” she says. “How sweet, but you sent Carlo and me on a cruise already.”

I smirk at her sarcasm. “I’m thinking of something unique and specific, and it’s last-minute. Tell Julian I’ll pay double for the rush.”

I describe my idea for Malia’s gift.

“That’s not last-minute,” she says. “That’s last week.”

Julian is a private jeweler to the wealthy who has adapted the items I bring to him, trophies from traffickers I’ve killed, to create statement pieces that remind me of my mission.

“He’s a metal-casting genius,” I tell her. “And I know he has everything on hand he needs to make this.”

“Boss, you’re certifiable if you think this will happen by tonight.”

“I believe in you both.”

I disconnect from a grumbling Barbie, bitching about having to pull her focus away from her obsessive-compulsive need to finish something she’s started.

“Burning down that fucking church is the best idea I’ve had in a long time,” I mutter just before the doors open on the first floor.

Outside, I head to the coffee shop I frequent most days I’m home. Simms is sitting in the back corner, scrolling on his phone, sipping something fancy.

I grab a newspaper from the counter, order black coffee, and take the table next to him. I sit with my back toward him and open the browser on my phone. “Have you been screened for ADHD? Or are you just a perpetual two-year-old who can’t wait for anything?”

“Why are we here?”

“You offered to help me out.”

“No, I offered to take him off your hands.”

A waitress brings my coffee, and I thank her and take a sip.

“I don’t have time to play games,” I tell him. “So, I’m going to offer you a deal. Take it or leave it. Up to you.”

“Can’t wait to hear this.”

“I give you the information about his facilities in one country.” I tap the reports. “If you can get those shut down, nice and quiet, and get those fuckers through your red tape, I’ll give you more.”

He stands and takes the seat across from me with an impatient glare. “You’re forgetting I’m law enforcement. You’re a vigilante. If you don’t give me the information you have?—”

“No time for empty threats. I’ve got shit to do. Do you want them or not?”

He sighs as if I’m a nuisance. “I’ll take them.”

He reaches for the reports, and I grip his wrist. “There is one catch.”

“Of course there is.” He pulls his hand back.

“Malia Eros.”

He pauses before offering a suspicious “Yeah?”

“It’s already floating through certain circles, and it will come out tomorrow, so I’ll tell you: she’s Tarik’s daughter.

It’s a bit of a convoluted story I don’t have time to explain right now, but I’ve vetted her to the nth degree, and despite being the face of his charities, she’s not involved in the money laundering or the trafficking.

She’s been raising money for charities in good faith.

She didn’t know what he did for a living until recently.

She’s been insanely sheltered and controlled.

Believe me when I tell you she is trapped. ”

Simms rolls his eyes with a dry smirk.

“I understand that’s hard to swallow. If I were you, I wouldn’t believe it either. But honestly, have I ever been wrong about this type of thing before?”

I wait a beat, and when he doesn’t respond, I add, “And given the track record you seem to think is mine, do you think I’d let anyone— anyone —who was involved in this business walk away?”

“Fine.”

“You have to promise me, give me your word as a white hat, that she is not touched by this mess.”

“You know I can’t?—”

“You can, and you will, or I take this offer off the table right now and you continue to live in the dark, watching from afar as I burn all the fuckers you wish you had the power to end. And just in case you’re considering saying one thing and doing another, if you come down on her, you’ll answer to me.

And you really don’t want to answer to me. ”

“What country are you giving me?”

I push the reports across the table. “Uruguay.”

He barks a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me? The smallest country in South America? You think that little of me?”

“It’s our government I think so little of. Let’s see how long it takes you to handle these. I estimate your timeline will be four or five times slower than ours. That gives sick fuckers a lot more time to hurt a lot more people. And I know you don’t want that.”

I stand. “If you can manage to close them down faster than expected, I’m happy to share more locations as I get them. And, dude, there are hundreds upon hundreds. Believe me, you want in on this.”