Page 111 of Sweet Deception

My hands clench when I spy men in alcoves assessing and appraising the younger girls as though they’re livestock, but I maintain my cover, scanning methodically for Lucy.

And finally, I spot her—miraculously, incredibly, impossibly—through an archway that leads to a private alcove. A middle-aged man in an expensive suit runs his hands over her shoulders while she stares straight ahead, her face blank.

For a split second, our eyes meet.

And now, it’s over. We’re all done here.

Releasing Darren, I stagger forward, crying out in distress and falling against a nearby table just as he told me to. The noise and movement draw everyone’s attention, creating the perfect cover for Darren’s team to fan out and maneuver into position.

The ensuing takedown is swift and well-choreographed.

Darren moves like a shadow, the team following his lead.

Within seconds, everyone’s subdued. Some are unconscious, others zip-tied and face down. None get the chance to radio for help.

As soon as it’s finished, the women on display descend from their pedestals, teary eyed and trembling. I don’t waste a second before I’m running to Lucy. She’s heading for me, too, when Sophia Kovaleva steps out from a hidden nook and snatches her wrist, dragging her backward.

My stomach drops. “No!”

Kovaleva has a knife to Lucy’s throat, and she digs the tip in just enough for a tiny stream of blood to drip down the cutting edge and onto her white bodycon dress. Lucy whimpers, her face pale.

“Not another step.” The woman spits the words, pressing the tip of her blade harder into Lucy’s throat.

I’m frozen to the spot.

No, no, no, no. Not now. Not when we’re this close to getting away.

Kovaleva’s perfect composure seems at odds with the chaos around us.

Lips curling back to reveal her pearly teeth, she sneers. “Everyone’s going to stay very still while my security guards get the girls back here, or she di?—”

“Think again.” Darren catches her attention just as an explosion rocks the far side of the building. Kovaleva’s grip loosens as she loses her balance, and Lucy drives her elbow into the bitch’s ribs, exactly the way I taught her.

“Lucy!” When I throw my arms out, she dashes into them. We embrace each other tightly as the tears spring full force.

Darren’s second charge brings down part of the ceiling between where we’re standing and where Kovaleva stumbles back.

“Move!” he shouts, grabbing us as a wall begins to collapse. Accompanied by the Kings’ tactical team, we book it through a pre-planned escape route while the final explosions take down the building and scores of human traffickers.

We emerge into the cool night air, unharmed, Lucy clinging to me, and dozens of other women and girls huddled together and clutching each other. The Irish Kings got them out. And now we have to get them to safety. But just as my hearing starts to come back, an ominous sound cuts through the fog.

A slow clap reverberates through the parking lot.

Troy Sullivan stands by a black SUV, his smile cold as ice.

“Well, isn’t this touching?”

Chapter Forty-One

Troy’s soldiers spill out of out several SUVs, positioning themselves around their leader, and two of my men drop before I can even react.

My weapon is drawn, but his is trained on me too.

This isn’t the first time I’ve stared down the barrel of a gun, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’m not afraid of death. And I’m sure as hell not afraid of Troy Sullivan.

All my focus is on the black hole at the end of Troy’s handgun. Because if it moves at all, I won’t be the one in danger.

Nika.