Bonds of Obsession (Pretty Ruthless Monsters #3)

29. Quinn

29

QUINN

My heart pounds against my ribs as I crouch behind a parked car, watching the luxury hotel’s entrance. Two of Arturo’s men stand guard out front, their hands resting on concealed weapons.

“The left one keeps checking his phone,” Nico whispers beside me. “He could be our weak link.”

“Or he’s waiting for check-in signals,” I mutter back. “Atlas, how long until your distraction hits?”

Atlas checks his watch. “Three minutes. My guy knows what he’s doing.”

“He’d better,” Killian growls. “We only get one shot at this.”

Through my binoculars, I track movement on the penthouse floor. More of Arturo’s men are patrolling up there, keeping Celine locked away like a princess in a tower. Except this isn’t a fairy tale—it’s a fucking nightmare, and she’s living it.

“There are four on the top floor,” I whisper to my men. “Two guards by the elevator, two roaming.”

Nico nods. “We know from Elliot’s intel that there are two cameras in the hallway, one at each end. But the service corridors are blind spots.”

Killian’s massive frame shifts beside me. “Phone boy’s getting antsy.”

“Yeah, we need to get this fucking show on the road,” Nico says. “Atlas?”

“Ninety seconds.”

All four of us are armed to the teeth—guns, knives, flash grenades, the works—and we’ve gone over the plan a dozen times, but my stomach is still churning. Not because I’m afraid of what we’re about to do, but because of what the Dark Lotus Syndicate expects us to do.

“Remember,” I whisper, “She’s very pregnant. We have to keep her alive through the initial break-in, and we can’t risk roughing her up too much.”

“We know, mia cara,” Nico murmurs. “We’ve got you.”

A loud crash echoes from the parking garage, followed by shouting and the sound of breaking glass. The front guards exchange looks.

“Think that’s enough of a distraction?” Atlas asks dryly as both guards jog toward the sound.

“Subtle as always,” Killian says, but there’s approval in his voice.

“Move,” I whisper. We slip from shadow to shadow toward the service entrance, my heart in my throat. If this goes wrong, we’re all dead.

The service door’s lock is pathetically easy to pick. Within seconds, we’re inside the fluorescent-lit corridor that runs behind the hotel’s glossy facade.

“Clear right,” Nico murmurs.

“Clear left,” Killian responds.

“Security patrol schedule?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

Atlas consults his phone. “Maintenance is done for the night. Next patrol’s not due for forty minutes.”

“Unless phone boy called them,” Killian adds.

“If he did, we’ll handle it,” I say, but my heart rate kicks up.

We move silently past stacked linens and cleaning supplies, our boots barely making a sound on the concrete floor. The maintenance elevator is exactly where Elliot’s blueprint indicated, tucked away in a corner where the hotel’s wealthy guests won’t have to see the machinery that keeps their paradise running.

“You good?” I whisper to Atlas, noticing how he’s favoring his left side.

“I swear, vicious, if you ask me that one more time?—”

“She asks because she cares, asshole,” Nico cuts in.

“I know.” Atlas’s face softens. “But I need you focused on the job, not on me.”

“I can do both,” I mutter, knowing he’s right but still pissed that he thought he needed to point it out.

The elevator requires a key card scan. I slide our copy through—courtesy of an Enigma member who used to work here. The light blinks red.

“Shit,” I suck in a sharp breath.

“Try it again,” Nico says.

I do. Red again.

“Third time’s the charm,” Atlas says quietly. “Always is with these readers. Something in the magnetic strip has to catch just right.”

I swipe again. Green light. The doors slide open with a soft ding that sounds deafening in the quiet corridor.

“See?” Atlas smirks. “Told you.”

“Shut up and get in.” I roll my eyes, but I’m fighting a smile.

Once we’re inside, I hit the button for the service level of the penthouse floor and the elevator groans to life.

“If anyone’s monitoring the elevator…” Killian starts.

“They’re not,” Atlas assures us. “Checked the security setup when I was planning the distraction. They only watch the guest elevators.”

“Ready?” I ask as we near our floor.

Three slight nods answer me.

The doors open to darkness that’s barely illuminated by the red glow of exit signs. We move together as one unit, our weapons ready.

“Two by the main doors.” Nico holds up two fingers. “Just like we thought.”

“Quick and quiet,” I whisper. “No guns unless we have to.”

Killian’s voice is barely audible: “I’ve got right if you’ve got left.”

“Done,” Nico confirms.

They move in perfect sync, closing the distance before the guards can react. Nico’s hand clamps over one guard’s mouth while Killian’s arm locks around the other’s throat.

“Put them in the storage closet,” I hiss, already moving to open it. Atlas covers me, knife ready.

The guards struggle, but my men are stronger and we have the advantage of surprise on our side. Within seconds, both guards are dead. We drag them into the closet, but hear footsteps approaching just as we’re closing the door.

“The patrol,” Atlas whispers.

“How many?” I ask.

“Two sets of steps. Coming from the east wing.”

I press myself against the wall with my knife ready. Atlas mirrors me on the other side of the hallway. Nico and Killian crouch in the shadows, ready to back us up.

The guards are in mid-conversation when they come around the corner. “—said the boss wants hourly checks now?—”

I strike before he can finish. My blade finds the sweet spot between his ribs while Atlas takes his target down with impressive efficiency. A wet gurgle, then silence.

“Fuck,” Killian mutters. “Now there’s blood on the carpet.”

“Arturo’s gonna have a hell of a cleaning bill.” Nico smirks in the darkness. “Good thing he’s dying tonight too. Get these guys in with the others.”

My hands are slick with blood by the time we’re finished hiding the bodies. It’s far from the first time I’ve killed, and it definitely won’t be the last. But this wasn’t ever supposed to be my fight.

“They chose this life,” Atlas says quietly, reading my expression. “They chose to work for a monster.”

It’s the one small consolation I can take with me tonight. The guys we’re killing are the lowest of the low, and the world will be a better place without them. And their boss.

“I know.” I wipe my blade clean. “Their blood is on their own hands as much as mine.”

“The hallway is clear,” Killian reports. “But we need to move. That check-in they mentioned—someone’s going to notice they missed it.”

“Then let’s not waste time,” I say. “Ready?”

My men nod, and we move toward the penthouse doors.

The penthouse door opens silently—thank fuck for well-maintained hinges in expensive hotels. The whole place is dark, but there’s enough moonlight coming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that we can easily navigate around the furniture.

Killian gives the hand signal that we’re clear on the left, and Nico does the same for the right.

“Should we split up?” Atlas asks.

I shake my head. “It’s too risky. We stick together.”

“Let’s check the kitchen first,” Nico suggests. “Most people run there for weapons.”

We move together, checking corners and doorways. The kitchen is empty, except for a handful of gleaming appliances and an expanse of marble countertop long enough to land a fucking plane.

“Christ,” Atlas mutters. “Look at this place.”

“Blood money buys nice things,” I say. Everything here was paid for by human trafficking.

“Movement,” Killian hisses suddenly. “From the main bedroom.”

We freeze, listening. Nothing but silence follows.

“It could be the target,” Nico says.

“Or a trap,” I counter. “Does everyone have eyes on the exits?”

“Two windows,” Killian reports. “And the fire escape is on the left.”

“The door on the right leads to the bathroom,” Nico says.

“The master closet will be straight ahead once we’re inside the bedroom,” Atlas adds.

I signal them forward toward the doors to the master suite. They’re barely cracked open, enough to see that we’ll be in complete darkness there too.

“I don’t like this,” Nico whispers.

“Me neither.” I shake my head. “But we have to get her out of here. Time is running out.”

“Watch the corners,” Atlas warns as we approach the doors, and I can’t shake the feeling we’re being watched. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. Something is wrong. This is too easy too?—

A dark figure launches from behind a decorative screen, catching me in the side. The impact nearly knocks me to the floor.

“Quinn!” Atlas hisses.

“Stay back!” I order, recognizing my attacker’s size. “It’s her!”

Celine is obviously in fight or flight mode, and she’s choosing to fight like a cornered animal. She clips my jaw with an elbow, and I taste blood.

“Stop,” I try to say, but she’s already swinging again.

The men move to help, but I wave them off. “I’ve got this!”

“Let us—” Nico starts.

“No! She’s pregnant, remember?”

“Fuck,” Killian growls, clearly torn between protecting me and not hurting Celine.

She throws another wild punch, but I catch her arm and use her momentum to spin her around, pulling her back against my chest. She thrashes, but I hold her tight until she goes limp in my arms.

“Please,” she begs, voice raw with terror. “Don’t—my baby?—”

“Stop fighting,” I tell her, pressing my knife to her throat just to give her a little extra incentive to calm the fuck down. “We’re not here to hurt you.”

Yeah, she’s not buying it.

“Liar!” She starts to struggle again. “He sent you—Arturo sent you?—”

“If Arturo sent us, you’d already be dead,” Atlas says, moving around the perimeter of the room with his gun drawn, securing windows and doors as he goes.

“Your husband’s not walking away from tonight,” Nico says. “But you can.”

That catches her attention. “What?”

“We’re here to help,” I say. “But you have to trust us.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you’re going to die if we don’t get the fuck out of here really soon,” Killian rumbles. “Which one sounds like the better option to you?”

She trembles against me, but some of the fight drains out of her. “He’ll find me. He always does.”

“Not this time,” I promise. “Not ever again.”

Celine looks from me to the guys and back again. “If you’re not here to kill me, then what do you want?”

I ease the pressure of my blade but keep hold of her arm. “We’re getting you out. But you have to work with us.”

“The men you killed?—”

“Were working for a monster,” Killian cuts in.

“Your husband traffics people,” Nico adds bluntly. “Women. Children. You know what he is.”

She shudders. “Yes.”

“Then you know what he’d do to your baby,” I say quietly. “Boy or girl, that child would never be safe.”

“He said—” Her voice shakes. “He said he’d make the baby his heir.”

Atlas makes a disgusted sound. “Yeah? Like he made those other girls his ‘employees’?”

Fresh tremors run through her body. “You know about that?”

“We know everything,” I tell her. “By morning, he’ll be dead. Along with everyone loyal to him.”

“Arturo’s enemies?” Real fear enters her voice. “You’re with them?”

“Yes.” No point in lying now. “But I’m not like the others. I don’t kill innocent people.”

“Then why did they send you?”

“They ordered me to kill you. I chose to do something else.”

She turns to face me, rubbing her throat. “But… why?”

“Because I’ve done some fucked up shit,” I say. “But I won’t add killing an innocent woman and her baby to that list.”

Nico moves closer. “We can protect you. We’ll get you somewhere safe.”

“But we need to move fast,” Killian adds. “Before someone realizes those guards missed their check-in.”

She looks between us all again, desperate hope outweighing the fear in her eyes for the first time. “If you’re lying…”

“We’re not,” Atlas says softly. “Quinn doesn’t lie. And honestly? We wouldn’t go through the trouble.”

Celine sways slightly, and Killian steps forward to steady her. She flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“When is the baby due?” I ask, trying to build some connection.

“Three months.” Her hand drifts to her stomach. “I haven’t… he wouldn’t let me see a doctor.”

“Fucking bastard,” Atlas mutters.

“We’ll get you proper care,” I promise.

“He always finds me,” she whispers. “I tried running before. Three times.”

“What happened?” Nico asks, although his tone suggests he already knows.

She pulls up her sleeve, revealing cigarette burns. “He said the fourth time, it wouldn’t be me he punished.”

My jaw clenches. “He won’t touch you again. Either of you.”

“You don’t know him,” she says. “His reach?—”

“We know exactly what he is,” Killian cuts in. “A fucking coward who preys on people weaker than him.”

“But he’s not weak anymore,” she argues. “The things he can do, the people he knows?—”

“Won’t matter when he’s dead,” Atlas says flatly.

She searches my face. “You really think you can protect me?”

“I know we can.” I hold her gaze. “But you have to trust us. Can you do that?”

“I—” She swallows hard. “What choice do I have?”

“There’s always a choice,” I tell her. “But only one leads to freedom.”

Tears fill her eyes. “I want my baby to be free.”

“Then work with us,” Nico says gently. “Let us help you.”

She nods slowly and takes a deep breath. “What do you need me to do?”

“Is there cash here?” I scan the room. “Anything valuable we can grab quickly?”

Celine’s eyes dart to a painting on the wall—some abstract piece that’s probably worth more than most people make in a year. “Behind that. There’s a safe.”

“You know the combination?” Nico asks.

She nods, then pales. “But I can’t—he checks the cameras. If he sees me touch it?—”

“Hey.” I catch her gaze. “He’s not checking anything anymore. That money’s yours now.”

“He’ll kill me.” Her voice shakes. “Last time I even looked at it too long?—”

“Celine.” Atlas’s voice is gentle but firm. “He can’t hurt you anymore. We promise.”

“The cameras,” she whispers.

“Already looped,” Atlas assures her. “No one will see anything.”

Killian moves to the painting. “Show me where.”

She approaches slowly, like she’s fighting against invisible bonds. “Right here. Behind the left edge.”

He lifts the painting down carefully, revealing a wall safe. Her fingers tremble as she spins the dial.

“Seven right,” she murmurs. “Twenty-three left. Nineteen right.”

The safe clicks open. Inside, stacks of cash and jewelry spill out.

“Holy shit.” Nico’s eyes go wide. “That’s got to be at least half a mil.”

“Take it all,” I tell her. “Every fucking penny. You’ve earned it.”

She stares at the money. “I never—he wouldn’t even let me buy my own clothes.”

“Well, now you can buy whatever the fuck you want,” I say. “Consider it payment for everything that bastard put you through.”

She reaches for the cash with shaking hands. I dig out the duffel bag we brought and help her load it up.

“The jewelry too?” she asks.

“All of it,” Killian nods. “Everything you can carry.”

As she works, I keep watch on the door with my gun ready. Every second we stay increases our risk of getting caught, but I’m not going to rush her. Not when it comes to securing a future for herself and her baby.

A soft meow breaks the silence, and Celine freezes mid-reach. “Princess. Oh god, I forgot?—”

A sleek Siamese cat emerges from under the bed holding its tail high. Because of fucking course there’s a cat. Like this wasn’t complicated enough already.

“We can’t—” I start to shake my head, but Killian interrupts me.

“We’ll handle it.” There’s something in his voice that makes me turn.

The cat winds between his legs, purring, and his face softens in a way I’ve only seen a couple of times before, and only when I’ve been alone with him.

“Really?” Celine asks, hope creeping into her voice.

He nods. “We’ll make sure she’s looked after. I’ll make sure.”

“Fine.” I sigh. “Get her carrier if she has one.”

“In the closet,” Celine says, already moving. “Princess, come here baby.”

The cat settles into her carrier without fuss, like she knows something’s changing. Maybe animals can sense shit like that.

“Thank you,” Celine whispers to Killian. “She’s all I had, some days.”

He just nods, but I see something deep and wounded flash in his eyes. Sometimes I forget that under all that muscle and violence, he’s got his own scars and demons. His own need to protect the innocent.

“Time to die,” I tell Celine, pulling out the bags of blood we’ve brought for the final phase of our plan. Her eyes widen until I explain. “We need everyone to think you’re dead, or they’ll never stop looking.”

“Where’s the best place?” Nico asks her. “Where would someone expect you to hide?”

She swallows hard. “The bathroom. He—he always said that’s where he’d do it. When I stopped being useful.”

“Fucking bastard,” Atlas mutters.

“Show us,” I say gently.

She leads us to a massive bathroom, all white marble and gold fixtures. I tear down the shower curtain while Nico starts working with the blood bags.

“It’s pig blood,” he explains when he sees Celine watching. “Close enough to human to fool the people who will come looking for you.”

“We need to make it look like you fought back,” I tell her, smearing bloody handprints across the shower wall.

We work together, adding the little touches that make a scene feel real. Overturned bottles. Blood spatter at the right height. A few strands of her hair pressed into the “blood.”

“Enough?” Killian asks after we’ve used both bags.

I step back, studying our work. It looks like someone died here. Violently. “Yeah. This would convince the hell out of me.”

“What about my… my body?” Celine says nervously.

“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “That’s what’s next. Unfortunately, it’s also the hardest part. We need to carry you out like you’re dead. Covered in a blanket.”

Panic flashes across her features. “What if someone stops us?”

“They won’t,” Nico says, simply.

“But if they do,” Atlas adds, “we’ll handle it.”

Killian steps forward and begins draping a clean sheet across her body. “I’ve got you,” he says quietly. “Just stay still and trust me.”

“Still as a corpse,” she whispers, trying to smile.

“Exactly.” He wraps her carefully, then lifts her like she weighs practically nothing. “Is this okay on your stomach? Can you breathe?”

“As long as we don’t have to go too far.”

“We’ll do our best to make it quick,” he says. “Just keep your breaths shallow.”

“The cat—” she starts.

“She’s in good hands, I promise,” I say. “We’ll keep her safe.”

A tear slips down Celine’s cheek as she nods. I pick up the carrier, and Nico grabs the bag full of money and valuables. Atlas takes point as we head back to the service elevator.

We move silently through the penthouse hallway, past the storage closet where the guards are stashed. The elevator arrives quickly and empty, just like before.

The ride down feels like it’s never going to end, and my heart is pounding faster with each floor we pass. Celine stays perfectly still in Killian’s arms, playing her part. Even the cat seems to understand the need to stay calm and quiet.

Finally, we reach the ground floor. The service corridors are still empty thanks to Atlas’s perfect timing between security rounds. We retrace our steps through the maintenance areas quickly and efficiently, constantly moving until we make it back to my waiting car.

The trunk is already prepped with blankets. Not ideal, but better than the alternative if she’d stayed up in that penthouse.

“Just for a little while,” I promise as Killian lays her inside. “Once we’re clear, we’ll move you somewhere more comfortable.”

She nods bravely. “Thank you. All of you.”

I close the trunk and hand the cat carrier to Killian, who takes it with surprising gentleness. As we pull away from the hotel, I can’t help thinking about all the dangerous shit we’ve done tonight. But this time we did it to save a life instead of take one.

“You did a good thing,” Nico says, resting a hand on my thigh.

“We did a good thing,” I correct him with a tired smile. “And we’re not done yet.”