Protecting Lanie (Club Tales #6)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

ARCHER

T wo Years Ago

Boston, Massachusetts

The rain came down in sheets, soaking Archer Vaughn to the bone as he pressed his back against the cold brick of the warehouse. The constant patter of water masked the sound of the boots from his team moving into position, but Archer barely noticed. His earpiece buzzed with static as Kane, who was acting as his second-in-command, whispered from the other side of the building.

“West entrance secure. Two guards down. Your move, Archer.”

Archer didn’t respond immediately. His focus was razor-sharp, locked on the entrance. Before him a pair of burly guards smoked beneath a flickering floodlight. The air stank of damp concrete and burnt tobacco, and Archer’s gut twisted as he thought of what waited inside. The bastard traffickers weren’t just selling people tonight—they were selling them like commodities, stripped of names, dignity, and freedom. Among the victims, Archer’s sister, Meri, haunted his every thought.

“Copy that,” Archer finally replied, his voice low but firm. “Team two, stand by for breach on my mark. Remember, getting the girls out is our top priority.”

“You got it,” Reyna whispered. She sounded calm, but Archer could hear the tension. This wasn’t her first op with Cerberus, but it was her first against the Master’s Market. It was personal for all of them.

Archer raised a gloved hand, signaling Logan, their demolitions expert, to get into position with a breaching charge. The young man moved with precision, his lean form almost blending into the shadows. When Logan gave a thumbs-up, Archer nodded. “On three,” he murmured into the comms. “One…two…”

The explosion wasn’t loud, but it was enough to send the guards scrambling. Before they could react, Archer was on them, his movements fluid and brutal. His elbow cracked against one guard’s jaw, sending the man sprawling. The other reached for his weapon, but Kane appeared like a phantom, snapping the man’s wrist and slamming him to the ground.

“Stay quiet,” Archer growled at the groaning men, pulling zip ties from his vest. He glanced at Kane. “Inside. Now.”

The two of them slipped through the breached door, followed closely by Logan and Reyna. The warehouse was a cavernous maze of dimly lit corridors, the air oppressive with the stench of sweat and fear. Archer’s gut twisted as they neared the main room, where muffled voices and occasional cheers echoed.

He signaled for silence, holding up a clenched fist. The team froze, their breathing barely audible. Archer crept forward, peering around the corner. His blood ran cold.

The room was a twisted mockery of an auction house. A raised platform held a line of young naked women and girls, their wrists bound, their eyes wide with terror. Men in suits lounged in the front rows, holding tablets where they placed their bids. At the back of the room, Daryl DeLuca leaned against a desk, his dark eyes scanning the room with predatory ease. Archer’s stomach clenched at the sight of him. The man oozed control, his smirk a reminder that he believed he was untouchable.

And among the captives on stage was Meri.

Archer’s breath caught, but he shoved the panic down. There wasn’t time for emotion. Not yet. “Logan, take out the lights,” he whispered into his mic. “Reyna, be ready to move the girls. Kane, on me.”

The team responded with a chorus of quiet affirmations. Archer counted down silently in his head. The second the lights went out, chaos erupted.

Men shouted as darkness swallowed the room. Archer surged forward, his night vision goggles sliding into place. He took down the first guard with a swift kick to the chest, then spun to disarm another. Gunfire erupted, the muzzle flashes briefly illuminating the room, but Archer was already moving, his focus honed on one target: DeLuca.

“Get the merchandise out!” DeLuca barked into his mic. “Do not let them get taken!”

Archer reached the stage just as DeLuca’s men began herding the captives toward a side exit. Meri was among them, her slight frame almost hidden by the taller girls. Archer’s chest tightened as he fought his way through the crowd, every fiber of his being screaming to reach her. But DeLuca was already moving, dragging Meri with him toward a black van waiting just outside.

“ DeLuca! ” Archer roared, his voice cutting through the cacophony. The trafficker paused, turning just enough to meet Archer’s gaze. For a split second, their eyes locked—one man filled with icy resolve, the other with calculated amusement.

“You’re too late, Vaughn,” DeLuca called, his voice smooth and taunting. “This round is a draw—you might nab the buyers and the girls already sold, but I have the premium merchandise.”

Archer raised his gun, but DeLuca ducked behind a wall of his men, forcing Archer to take cover as bullets ricocheted off the metal scaffolding around him. When he looked up again, the van was gone, and with it, Meri.

“Dammit!” Archer slammed his fist against the stage, rage and frustration boiling inside him. But there was no time to dwell. His earpiece crackled.

“Archer, we’ve got the remaining girls secured,” Reyna reported. “But we’ve got incoming—more of DeLuca’s men.”

“Blow the hard drives,” Archer ordered, his voice like steel. “Leave nothing for them to use. Kane, regroup at the extraction point. We’re pulling out.”

Kane’s voice came through, grim but resolute. “Copy that. On our way.”

As Archer made his way back through the chaos, he saw the faces of the girls his team had managed to save. Their expressions ranged from terrified to relieved, their whispered cries a stark reminder of what they’d endured. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. But they were alive.

Archer and his team regrouped outside the warehouse as flames began licking at the inner structure of the building. Logan’s handiwork had ensured there’d be no evidence left behind for DeLuca’s operation to recover.

“Mission accomplished,” Kane said, clapping Archer on the shoulder. “At least for tonight.”

Archer’s jaw clenched as he stared at the burning building. “Not for me,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Reyna stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm. “We’ll find her, Archer. We’ll find Meri. And we’ll end DeLuca and his Master’s Market.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the horizon where DeLuca’s van had disappeared. The night was far from over. And as the embers of the warehouse glowed in the darkness, Archer made a silent vow: he would tear DeLuca’s empire apart brick by brick, no matter the cost.

LANIE

One Year Ago

Boston, Massachusetts

The apartment smelled like danger. She wasn’t sure what danger smelled like, but this had to be it. Lanie didn’t know how else to describe it. The faint, metallic scent of Vinnie’s gun seemed to hang in the air, mingling with the cloying scent of Vinnie’s cologne and something else. Fear? She stood frozen in the dim living room, her hands clutching the strap of her purse as she watched him pour two glasses of whiskey. Although his movements were casual and fluid, Lanie Cross saw through them. There was something simmering beneath his cool facade tonight. Something darker than usual.

“Relax, baby,” Vinnie said, his smile slick as he offered her a glass. “You’re wound tighter than a clock.”

Lanie hesitated before taking it, her fingers brushing against his for the briefest second. She hated that she still flinched at his touch, hated that her body betrayed her even when her instincts screamed to run. But where would she go? She had nowhere. No one.

She swallowed hard. “You said you wanted to talk,” she said, keeping her voice steady despite the knot in her throat. “What’s going on, Vinnie?”

He chuckled, taking a sip from his glass as he leaned against the edge of the couch. His dark eyes raked over her, sharp and assessing. “Straight to the point. That’s what I love about you, Lanie.” He gestured toward her with the glass. “That, and that you’re perfect. Too perfect to waste flipping pancakes at some greasy diner.”

Her stomach churned. She didn’t trust compliments from Vinnie. They always came with a hook. “I don’t mind my job,” she said carefully. “It pays the bills.”

“Come on, sweetheart. You think I don’t know you’re better than that?” He pushed off the couch and moved toward her, circling her like a predator stalking its prey. “You’ve got this…innocence about you. It’s intoxicating. Hell, it’s exactly what the right man would pay a fortune for.”

Her breath hitched, and she took a step back. “What are you talking about?”

Vinnie smirked, setting his glass down on the coffee table. “I’m talking about opportunity, baby. For both of us.” He tilted his head, his gaze narrowing. “I’ve been investing in you, haven’t I? Helping you become the woman you’re meant to be?”

Her pulse thundered in her ears. She thought back to the nights he’d coaxed her into wearing clothes that felt too revealing, the times he’d pushed her boundaries in ways that left her questioning herself. He’d called it “helping her grow.” She’d called it unsettling.

“Vinnie,” she said slowly, “you’re scaring me.”

He laughed, but it was humorless. “Don’t be scared. I’ve been taking care of you, haven’t I? You trust me, right?”

Her stomach twisted into a knot. She didn’t trust him. Not anymore. Not since she’d glimpsed his phone weeks ago and seen the name the Master’s Market at the top of his screen. She’d brushed it off as her imagination then, but now? Now the pieces were clicking into place, and the picture they formed was horrifying.

“I…” Her voice cracked, and she forced herself to look him in the eye. “What do you mean, opportunity? What are you planning, Vinnie?”

He sighed, as if disappointed. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you yet. You always overthink things. But fine, I’ll spell it out.” He grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer until their faces were inches apart. “I’ve been talking to some buyers. Good men. Powerful men. They’ve seen your pictures, Lanie. They’re interested.”

The blood drained from her face. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Don’t act so shocked,” he said, his tone hardening. “You were made for this. You’ve got that sweet, submissive look that drives men crazy. And you’ve been practicing, haven’t you? Learning to obey, to trust?”

Her chest tightened. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. “I thought you were helping me,” she said, her voice trembling. “I thought...”

“Helping you?” He barked out a laugh. “I was preparing you. And now it’s time for you to step up and do your part. Tonight, we’re meeting with a buyer from the cartel. He wants a taste, and if he likes what he sees, we’re talking six figures.”

“No.” The word burst from her lips before she could stop it. She yanked her wrist free, stumbling back a step. “No, Vinnie. You can’t do this.”

His expression darkened, and for the first time, she saw the full weight of his cruelty. “Don’t be stupid, Lanie,” he snarled. “You think you have a choice? You owe me. Every meal, every piece of clothing, every night I let you stay under my roof—you owe me.”

Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I’m not your property,” she said, her voice firmer now. “And I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He moved fast, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her hard. “You listen to me, you ungrateful little...”

The sound of her glass shattering against the side of his head interrupted him. Lanie didn’t hesitate. When his grip faltered, she twisted free and bolted for the door. She could hear him cursing behind her, the thud of his footsteps growing louder as he chased her down the hallway.

“Lanie! Don’t you dare...”

She didn’t look back. Her bare feet pounded against the linoleum as she sprinted down the stairs, her heart pounding like a drum. She burst out into the chilly night air, the sharp wind biting at her skin. Her only thought was to run . Run and don’t stop.

She darted into the shadows of an alley, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She could still hear his voice echoing in her head, promising retribution. But he wouldn’t follow her. Not if what he said about the cartel was true. If his boss, Daryl DeLuca, found out Vinnie had gone rogue, it would mean more than a scolding. Vinnie was as much a pawn as she had been.

Still, she couldn’t take any chances. She had to disappear, to vanish so completely that even Vinnie wouldn’t dare come after her.

She pressed a hand to her chest, willing herself to calm down. “Think, Lanie,” she whispered. “Think.”

Her gaze fell on a bus schedule taped to a nearby pole. Chicago. It wasn’t far, and it was big enough to get lost in. A spark of hope ignited in her chest, faint but insistent.

The sound of a door slamming nearby jolted her into motion. She darted out of the alley and toward the bus station, her determination drowning out the fear.

As the city lights blurred around her, Lanie swore to herself she’d survive. She’d start over. And she’d never let anyone control her again.