Page 54 of Gilded

LUKA

I close the room’s door as Malia curls into one corner of the couch. I take the middle cushion beside her, leaving enough room for her to breathe, but close enough to touch her.

I reach out and lay my hand over her foot. When she doesn’t pull away, I ask, “Where should we start?”

“You promised me the truth,” she says, bold and forward. “Can you live up to that?”

Resignation crowds my chest. She’s going to demand every last dirty scrap of information.

I know that look of determination. And once she has it all, she’ll never want to see me again.

I thought I resigned myself to that while sitting in the hall, but it’s so much harder to accept when I’m with her. When I’m touching her.

But I also know it’s only right. I’ll give her the information she needs to file this away with some sort of understanding so she can move on. Move past it all. Move past me. It’s the least I can do.

“Absolutely.” I already feel her slipping away.

She exhales, and her shoulders lower. “Are you the phantom?”

It takes me a second to get the words out. “The phantom is not one person. It’s a team. And yes, it’s my team.”

Despite the answer she probably knew was coming, she looks shocked. “So, you kill traffickers.”

I’ve never cared what anyone thought of me, but this is so different. “Yes, we kill traffickers. Taking the legal route lets way too many sick men go free to victimize more innocent people. That’s not our model of justice.”

She takes that in. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Twenty years.”

“Is that really what you do for work?”

“I’d say it’s more like a calling. We only get paid to find the victims. We just make it a two-for-one deal and either kill the trafficker while we’re there or go back to do it.”

“So, you don’t make money on real estate.”

“Most of my wealth still comes from real estate, but there are a lot of missing people and families who come to me to find them.”

“Why did you come to work for my father? At the hospital, you said you didn’t kill him because you couldn’t reach him. But after you were in, why didn’t you?”

“I needed all the locations of his holding facilities. Without them, I can’t get to the victims.”

“I thought you had that. You had a map.”

“That was only South America.”

“What do you mean ‘only’?”

I brace for her reaction before I tell her. “He has facilities on five of the seven continents.”

She looks confused for a moment, but when the enormity of that information hits, she doesn’t melt down again like I expect. She rises on her knees, balancing with a hand against my chest. “That motherfucking psycho.”

I huff a laugh, happy to see her fierce side returning. “That’s not the reaction I expected, but you’re always surprising me.”

“Where are they?” she demands.

“We don’t know. We worked our asses off to get the facilities in South America mapped out before the wedding, hoping to get the others before you were stuck with Soren. But your father’s too cautious.”

“That’s what you were looking for that night in the office.”

I nod.

“That’s why you were going to let me marry Soren.”

“I wasn’t going to let you marry him, love. I had my core team at the wedding. We were going to kidnap you and string Soren along for ransom. I thought it would give me time to get close to your father and earn his trust without letting that fucker have you. Then?—”

“James.”

“James.”

My phone rings. “It’s Jairo. My team has been searching the house for them all night.”

I connect with Jairo on speaker. “Anything?”

“Nothing.”

“Fuck,” Luka says.

“Does Malia know anything?”

I look at her, but she just stares back. “Not off the top of her head.”

“We’ve turned this place upside down,” Jairo says. “Searched all the houses, the basement, the outbuildings, the garages.”

“His office,” Malia says.

“Already tore it apart,” Jairo says.

“Did you find the space hidden in the wall?”

Jairo hesitates. “No.”

“What space?” Luka asks.

“When I was young, I went into my father’s office to ask for something, and he had that compartment open.

I remember being confused, wondering how a wall could open like a door.

It stuck in my memory because of how angry he got and essentially threatened to kill me if I ever mentioned it again.

I don’t know how it opens. I tried to find it when I was older but couldn’t.

I don’t even know if it’s real or a figment of a little girl’s imagination. ”

I’m betting it’s not a figment. “Where?”

“Behind his desk on the right, hidden in the paneling. About two feet wide. I don’t know how tall or how deep.”

“Hold on.” Jairo relays the information to someone, and a clatter of noise comes over the phone as they tear the wall apart.

I can’t hear what the guys are saying to Jairo, but there’s a tinge of excitement filtering through.

“All of them?” Jairo asks one of the other men.

“Please, please, please…” Malia murmurs.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Jairo says. “We’ve got ’em. Nice job, Malia.”

“Yes,” I hiss and drop my head back, eyes closed, soaking in this huge success. Then I kiss Malia.

“Have you heard from Davey?” I ask.

“Who’s Davy?” she asks.

“Our attorney. He’s been looking into ways to crush that contract you signed for your father, though it might not matter now that he’s dead.”

“Do you know who made it for me?” She asks.

“Your mother’s parents.”

“Oh, wow. I do have family out there. Are they still alive?”

“They are,” Jairo says. “As far as your father goes, you’re his only living family, that we know of anyway, and New York state law says his estate will be disbursed to his heirs.

Though if they can make a case against him for trafficking, the state could seize everything as fruits of illegal activity. ”

“What about his will?” I ask.

“He doesn’t have one,” Malia tells me. “Soren was constantly nagging him to make one. He wanted to be the beneficiary, but as far as I know, my father never did.”

“He was probably too arrogant to think he’d ever die,” Jairo says.

“Or not having one kept Soren from killing him,” I add.

“Get everything problematic out of that house and off that island,” I tell Jairo.

“Get teams together to go to all his islands and do the same. If they don’t have enough evidence to go after him for trafficking, they don’t have enough evidence to fight for his assets. ”

“But what about the money laundering?” Malia asks.

“New York has some solid protection for the property owner in civil asset forfeiture,” I tell her.

“The burden of proof is on the government. Without solid evidence, they can’t seize anything.

And you were never the state’s target. We’ve combed through your father’s financials.

Your only contribution is bringing in money for charity.

Nothing illegal about that. And if they decide to try to freeze assets, there’s a lot of red tape between here and there. ”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about any of that,” Jairo says.

“Why not?” Malia asks.

“Based on the company your father kept, there are a lot of people in the upper echelon, including law enforcement and politicians, who will want to stay as far away from their association with your father as they can get.”

I disconnect from Jairo and pull Malia into my lap, thrilled when she leans into me instead of away. “I’ve been working toward this day for so long.” I pull back and kiss her. “You’ve made a priceless dream come true.”