Chapter 6 Chapter 6
"Jimmy's Bar was exactly the kind of place desperate people came to for quick
money— dim light,sticky floors, the smell of stale beer and broken dreams hanging in the air like
fog."
I'd been a regular here a few times in my old life, meeting Elena after her shifts.
But I ‘d never come as a woman looking for work,
Until now.
I sat in a back booth, nursing a drink I had no intention of finishing, waiting for Victor Lenn to
arrive.
Alex’s intelligence said he came to Jimmy's every Thursday night, scouting girls.
Lenn had a particular method: find vulnerable women, offer them good money for easy work,
slowly escalate the danger until they were too deep to escape.
“I was about to become one of those women. On purpose.”
The surveillance earpiece in my ear was almost invisible, just a small bud that looked like a
hearing aid.
Alex was listening from a van three blocks away, along with Dave, his
second-in-command.
"Are you okay?" Alex's voice was soft, careful.
A version of him I only heard when we were alone, away from business.
In the past month, we'd become something more than allies. Not
quite lovers, but something more than friends.
"Fine," I answered back, moving my jaw slightly so it looked like I was chewing gum rather
than speaking.
"He's here," Dave said. "Just walked in, heading to the bar."
I resisted the urge to turn and look. Instead, I took a delicate sip of my drink and tried to look
sad.
Elena had helped me perfect the look,exhausted, broke, desperate. A woman who'd
made poor life choices and was looking for a way out.
"Don't make eye contact yet," Alex instructed. "Let him come to you."
I'd been dressed carefully for this. A blouse that showed off my shape without being obvious,
jeans that were just expensive enough to suggest I came for something but worn enough to
suggest I'd come down.
My hair was down, and I'd done my makeup to emphasize my
exhaustion rather than my beauty.
I was a bait. And I'd never felt more alive.
It took 25 minutes,Victor Lenn walked past my booth twice before finally stopping and
leaning against the table like we were old friends.
"You look like you could use some company," he said. His voice was smooth, practiced. He'd
done this a hundred times before.
"I look like I could use some money," I said, not looking up at him.
He laughed. "Same thing, usually." He slid into the booth across from me without being invited.
"I'm Victor. And you are?"
"Mia," I said, meeting his eyes for the first time. "And I'm not interested in whatever you're
selling unless it pays really, really well."
"How well?"
“Enough to make it worth my while to disappear from a life that's not working."
Victor leaned back, studying me. I could see the moment he decided I was viable. The moment
the predator in him recognized something he thought he could use.
"I have opportunities," he said. "For the right girl. What kind of work are you looking for?"
"The kind with money," I said. "I don't care what I have to do."
"Even if it's not... conventional?"
"Especially if it's not conventional." I leaned forward slightly, letting him see what he expected to
see , mouth dropping open ,a woman desperate enough to be malleable.
"I've lived my whole life being conventional.
It got me nowhere."
He smiled, and it was the smile of a predator who'd just identified its prey.
"Okay, Mia. Let me tell you about the opportunities I have..."
For the next two hours, I listened to Victor explain his operation in increasingly explicit detail.
The man was arrogant, confident that I wouldn't betray him because I'd be too deeply invested
in the money by the time I understood what I'd agreed to.
He told me about the fighting rings. The fighting rings were where he tested girls' loyalty and
pain tolerance.
About the hospitality services code for what amounted to legal human
trafficking.
About the research facility outside the city, where certain women with special
characteristics were kept for study.
He was confessing everything, and he didn't even know he was doing it.
"What kind of special characteristics?" I asked.
"Some girls are pretty in interesting ways. Some have skills that are useful. Some have genetics
that are valuable."
He leaned back, proud of himself. "I work for someone who collects rare
things.
Girls with unusual abilities. Genetic anomalies. Supernaturals who can't hide what they
are."
My heart rate spiked. This was it.
This was the information Alex had been looking for.
"Supernaturals," I echoed.
"Like what?"
"Like werewolves who can't shift. Sirens with unstable power.
Vampires with human blood sensitivity.
People who are broken versions of what they're supposed to be. Those are the most
valuable.
“Valuable?” I echoed,the word catching in my throat. What do you mean by valuable?"He leaned across the table and brushed his fingers against my cheek, gentle and sure.
“Because scars teach strength. And people who’ve survived the—breaking , they fight harder,they love deeper and are more honest than anyone else.”
"What about you, Mia? Are you
broken in an interesting way?"
I had to control the instinct to rip his hand off and snap his wrist.
"That depends on what you meant by broken," I said, pulling back slowly. "When do I start?"
"Tomorrow,said Victor. I'll text you the location. You'll come alone, no phones, no cops. We'll do a preliminary valuation to see if you're suitable."
He stood up, straightening his jacket. "Welcome to the
family, Mia."
He left before I could respond, disappearing back into the crowd at the bar.
In the Van, Alex's voice came through my earpiece, and it sounded like barely controlled
rage.
"We have everything we need. Come back. Now."
I wasn't supposed to go home. It was dangerous, everyone agreed. Elena was there when I
got to my apartment, worrying made her face tight.
"Where the hell have you been?" she demanded, pulling me inside. "You've been gone for a
month.
No calls, no texts messages, nothing. I filed a missing person report. I thought something happened to you."
"Something did happen to me," I said quietly. "I met someone."
Her expression shifted from anger to something more careful. "What kind of someone?"
I looked at my best friend, the one person in this city who'd shown me unconditional kindness,
and made a decision that would change everything.
"The kind of someone who knows what I am," I said. "The kind that might be able to help me
stop being hunted."
Elena sat down on my couch like her legs were shaking uncontrollably. "Mia, what are you saying?"
So I told her. Not everything ,I wasn't ready to tell her about the pack, about my parents, about
the transformation that had made me a murderer at sixteen.
But I told her about Alex. About the Alpha King.About the research facility.
About Victor Lenn and the girls being trafficked and studied.
She listened without interrupting, her black-streaked hair catching the light as she processed.
"You're working for a crime boss," she finally said.
"Not exactly working for him, "Working with him. “I corrected.”
"Are you in love with him?”
"I don't know," I honestly said. "It's complicated."
"It always is," Elena said. She stood up and hugged me, fierce and tight. "But if he's the kind of
person who'll help you stop being a victim, then I'm in for it. What do you need from me?"
"Just—be there," I said. "When this is all over, be there so I know I still have something real."
" Always will," she promised.
The next morning, I received a text with an address. A warehouse on the outskirts of the city,
abandoned-looking but probably heavily secured.
Alex and Dave were waiting for me in the safe house they'd set up three blocks away.
"You're not going in there," Alex said immediately.
"Yes, I am."
"No. It's too dangerous. We have enough intel. We can go to the authorities, get a warrant"
"A warrant for what?" I interrupted. "We have circumstantial evidence. Victor confessed in a
public bar to a girl who works for a crime boss. “That's not admissible in court.You know that,right?”
”I konw..but I’m left with no choce.”
And Victor knows it, which is why he was so comfortable talking."
Alex’s jaw clenched. "I won't lose you."
"You're not going there," I said, and I mean it. I'd spent five years running from myself. I wasn't
running anymore.
"But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me do this."
He looked at me for a while, and I could see the war happening inside him. The need to
protect is warring with the need to trust me.
He finally agreed.
"...And if I hear anything that suggests you're in danger…”