He tilts his head, studying me like a predator. “Nolan’s blackmail is gone.”
The room goes silent.
My jaw drops. Micah jolts, straightening immediately. Heather inhales sharply. I realize that we’re all standing now.
“W—what?” I croak.
Rafe smirks. “Adela’s been using some resources at her firm. We tracked them. We know exactly where they are. That’s part of what we’ve been doing.”
Tears spill down my face.
“That’s fucking incredible, man,” Micah exclaims, his eyes shining as well. “Are you able to see who else might have those files?”
Rafe crosses his arms and nods. “The files are located in two other places. Both are in Moscow.”
My stomach twists at that. “Can you find out who?”
Adela steps forward now. “Working on it, love. I imagine one of them is Alexei, and the other is someone acting more for insurance purposes. Like if Jude, in a sudden rage, killed Alexei, he’d still lose everything. That’s really common.”
“Okay,” I nod, hugging myself. My whole body is shaking right now, probably from the adrenaline.
“I ordered catering for us tonight,” Adela says casually. “Didn’t feel like dealing with dishes. It’s on its way, so come down, and we can talk about some logistics when we arrive. Nico and Kieran will be joining us as well. Please ensure you have everything packed. We have one more thing to deal with tonight. But we will be leaving here tomorrow morning at five.”
We all say, “Okay" in unison. I can’t help but watch the confident way that they walk together. They exude a power I’ve never felt or seen before. I’m curious to know more about them, even if I’m also a little scared of them. I feel like I’d be stupid not to be.
“Emma, I think we have everything packed,” Heather says from her spot on the bed, where she’s cozied up to Micah. “We’re ready. Relax.”
I stop and sigh, running an anxious hand through my hair.
“Did you take your medicine? It’s okay if you needed to,” she says quietly, her brown eyes sweeping over my face.
“I just did,” I gesture to the bathroom. But before I can say anything else, the door opens, and Rafe and Adela step inside together. Her expression is unreadable, but elegant. His mouth curves faintly, but there’s no humor in it. Heather’s laptop snaps shut, and Micah straightens.
“Come with us,” Rafe says flatly, leaving no room for negotiation.
Adela’s eyes flick to me.
“I, wh—now?” I ask. “Why?”
“There’s something I’d like you all to see before we go to Russia,” Rafe answers, his voice eerily soft. My heart is hammering so hard it feels loud, like someone might comment on it if I don’t get the damn thing under control. Heather brushes past me, her hand briefly squeezing mine as we follow them out into the hallway. I want to ask where we’re going and why. But I don’t.
Rafe glances back once, his eyes locking on mine. And another wild chill runs down my spine. This man and his effect on me might just kill me before Alexei could get a chance.
I can’t stop my stupid fingers from fidgeting as we step out of Rafe’s black limo. The night air is sharp and far too cold for my already shaking body. We’re surrounded by trees on all sides,meaning that if any of us were to scream, no one would likely hear it. A warehouse looms ahead, half-swallowed by shadow. Old auto parts are scattered outside like this place was once a repair shop, maybe.
I touch my sternum, and Heather tracks the movement. She gives me a look that says,calm down. We’re okay.
Rafe doesn’t hesitate. He reaches for the warped metal door and yanks it open, and we hesitantly follow him inside. And then I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. A man is chained to a wall on the other side of the room.
Heather tenses beside me, her entire body going rigid. Micah’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening. The man’s head hangs forward, chains digging into his wrists. When he lifts his face, my stomach lurches. Blood streaks his cheek and jaw, already drying dark against his skin. One eye is swollen nearly shut. His short black hair is matted and uneven, like someone grabbed fistfuls of it and yanked his head around.
He looks like he’s in his forties. Maybe older. It’s hard to tell when someone’s been reduced to...this.
“What is this?” I hear myself ask, my voice thinner than I’d like.
No one answers.
We move closer, my feet carrying me forward even though my brain is screaming at me to run. Up close, the damage is worse. His lip is split, breathing shallow, and his remaining eye flicks over us.