Chapter 25 While the Lights Were On
Sloane
"Sloane," he said finally. His voice was low, vibrating with a tension he was trying to hide. "Tell me exactly. What’s happening?"
The leather seat of the limousine felt too soft, like it was trying to swallow me whole. I stared at the back of the driver’s head through the frosted glass partition. He couldn't hear us, but I still felt like the walls were listening.
I swallowed, my throat feeling tight and dry. I looked at the partition again, making sure it was closed tight. "I heard Richard. I went back to get my lipstick case, and the door was cracked. He was talking to someone. It was the same man that came while we were having dessert in the hall."
I paused, the memory of Richard’s cold, professional voice making me shiver.
"He was talking to him about a 'smooth transfer,'" I whispered. "He asked the man if it was done. And the man said yes. He said the logistics were handled while the dinner was going on."
Cade’s brow furrowed. He didn't look confused; he looked like he was trying to put a puzzle together in his head. "A transfer? Like a bank move?"
"I don't think it was money, Cade," I said, my voice trembling. "I think... I believe that somewhere else in the hotel, a trafficking operation was happening. Right under our nose.
I paused, trying to catch my breath.
“And Richard... he was using our engagement as a cover. He wanted the whole family, the press, the staff, everyone to be focused on that room so the rest of us wouldn't know what was going on."
Cade didn’t blink. He just stared at me, like something had finally clicked into place. The shock wasn’t loud. It settled in, heavy and controlled, like a decision being made.
He looked away, his jaw tightening so hard I thought his teeth might crack. He looked upset, not just at Richard, but at the whole situation. He looked like he wanted to punch the window out, but he stayed perfectly still.
He leaned back, exhaling a long, angry breath through his nose.
"So they're done? The whole thing. It’s over?"
"Yes," I said, a tear finally escaping and rolling down my cheek.
"Dammit," he muttered. “I knew it. I knew Lily didn't just stumble into this. They didn't just use the dinner, Sloane. They used us”
"It must have been planned so perfectly. It lasted exactly from the moment the dinner started to when it ended. While we were eating, while we were laughing and taking photos... people were being moved. They waited for when everyone else in the family was occupied so that no one could interfere. No one was looking elsewhere because they were all looking at us."
Cade’s hands clasped together in his lap. He looked like he was trying to hold himself together.
“Then whatever it was,” he said slowly, his voice sounding like gravel, “it’s already finished.”
I nodded. “For tonight.”
Cade didn’t look at me for a long time. He just stared straight ahead at the partition. He let out a sharp, jagged breath. It was more anger than surprise now.
“And that means that Richard stayed behind. When he stepped out of the room specifically to check on it.”
“Yes.”
“To supervise.”
“Yes.”
Cade finally turned his head back to me. “Did he see you? Or realize someone was listening?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, trying to remember every detail of those few seconds. “He didn’t react. He didn’t look toward the crack in the door. If he knew I was there, he would’ve stopped talking. He was too busy looking at that stranger.”
Cade nodded once. “Good. Then you’re still invisible.”
“But he knows I was unsettled tonight,” I admitted. “He saw me watching him at the table. He saw me look at him when he got up. He knows I’m not stupid, Cade. He knows I saw something in his face earlier.”
Cade nodded once. It was a short, sharp movement. “So he knows you suspect something. But he doesn’t know exactly what you heard.”
“Yes.”, I confirmed.
That seemed to bother him more than if Richard knew everything. It was the uncertainty. Richard was a man who liked to be in control, and a loose thread like me was a problem.
“Which means,” Cade said, his voice dropping into a low, serious tone, “we can’t act like this scared us, else he’ll notice something’s up.”
I looked at him, my eyes wide. “But Cade, I am scared. My heart hasn't slowed down since I left that room.”
“I know,” he said immediately.
Then, after a pause:
“But right now, what matters is that you don’t look like it.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Then what do we do?”
Cade didn’t answer right away. He looked out the window as the limo slowed down, turning onto our street. The tall, elegant townhouses lined the road, looking peaceful and safe under the warm glow of the streetlamps.
“For now,” he said, “we don’t change anything.”
I frowned, feeling a surge of frustration. “Nothing?”,I brought my voice to a whisper. “We just go on like everything is fine? People were trafficked tonight, Cade. I heard it.”
“I hate the idea more than you do, believe me Sloane”, Cade said, as he looked out the window. “If your uncle was here,” Cade said, his voice tight, “I’d make him talk.”
He stopped himself, jaw flexing.
“That’s how this ends. Someone talks.”
I looked at him. I saw how this was a weight for him too. This is the closest we’ve gotten to confirming the truth about his sister since we started this
I leaned back against the plush leather, the weight of his words settling in. It felt like a trap.
“So we keep playing along.”
“Yes,” Cade said quietly. “And you don’t miss a single thing.”
The limousine pulled to a stop in front of our house. The driver got out and walked around to open the door. I smiled a small, tired smile at the driver as he handed me my bag. I walked up the steps with Cade, his hand on the small of my back, playing the part of the happy, exhausted couple.
Once we were inside and the door was locked, the silence of the house felt heavy. I went straight to my bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed.
I tried to sleep. I really did. I lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, listening to the house creak. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Richard’s face. I heard the word transfer over and over again. I thought about the girls. I wondered if they were cold. Iif they were scared.
I felt a deep, sick sense of guilt because I was safe in my bed while people were being moved like property.
Eventually, exhaustion won. It wasn't a restful sleep. It was a series of dark, blurry images and the feeling of being followed through a maze.
In the morning, I got up and moved like a robot. I took a shower, the steam filling the room, but I still felt cold. I put on my charcoal-grey suit and spent extra time on my hair and makeup.. I needed to look like someone who didn't have a single care in the world.
I went down to the kitchen. Cade was already there. He was dressed in a navy suit, drinking a cup of black coffee. He looked tired, but he was composed. He didn't say good morning. He just handed me a cup.
"You okay?" he asked. His voice was steady.
"I'm fine," I lied. I took the coffee, the heat from the mug seeping into my frozen fingers.
He nodded like the answer was enough, even if it wasn’t true. I reached for a piece of toast, but I couldn't even bring myself to take a bite. My stomach was in knots.
Suddenly, a sharp noise broke the quiet.
My phone, sitting on the marble kitchen island, began to vibrate. It buzzed loudly, sliding an inch to the left. The screen lit up, casting a pale blue glow on the counter.
Cade stepped closer, his eyes dropping to the caller ID. He didn't pick it up. He just stared at it. And then he looked at me, and I saw the flicker of dread in his eyes.
“Sloane,” he said quietly.
His hand didn’t reach for the phone.
“It’s Richard.”