Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Azrael
Jensen is waiting in my office when I arrive, and I already have a buzz of adrenaline running through my veins to get back to the girl upstairs.
I’ve never felt this excitement before in my life. Something inside me calls to her; she’s completely different to all others, and I want to keep her.
Jensen turns to face me, but I ignore his presence and head straight for the Scotch. I pour myself a healthy glass of the amber liquid, knowing full well Jensen already has one. Then I drop into the leather chair with a heavy sigh; I know I won’t like whatever it is he’s about to say.
He waits for me to take a swig of the drink before opening his mouth, and I’m grateful for it. I sure as shit need it after the night I’ve had.
“I found a girl at the auction.” He blows out a deep breath.
This is to be expected, so I know damn well there’s more to it.
“She was young, Azrael.”
My blood turns to ice as he stares at me, his eyes drilling into me.
“How young?” Not that it truly matters. Anyone below the age of eighteen is an issue for me. Although I insist on all the women being above twenty-one to work at the clubs and to serve me.
“Barely a teenager, though she looks younger.”
My insides twist. “Fuck,” I seethe.
This is what I’ve been concerned about. There have been rumblings about my father and his associates debating whether to begin trafficking children as well as adults.
While we are relatively flying under the radar, dealing in the adult skin trade, the prospect of throwing children in the mix is deeply concerning.
It’s going to raise more awareness of our endeavors, and quite frankly, I draw the line at dealing with children.
As a child who was abused abhorrently and witnessed the agony and trauma of child abuse, I take fucking issue with it.
Still, trying to insert that into an already twisted lifestyle is almost impossible, especially when the likes of Vector are whispering in my father’s ear in encouragement.
Our half-brother, Stone, received sickening torture as a teenager, and that’s something that has stayed with both Czar and me. I refuse to accept more of it.
“Was she hurt?” I choke out, still in shock at the fact that a minor was on the premises, and it appears my father has taken my concerns out of the equation altogether. Taken me out of the equation.
What the hell is my father thinking? This was not part of any agreement; the bastard has taken this on himself.
I’m unsure what’s more concerning: the knowledge of his actions or the fact that he’s preparing to go even deeper than ever before and I have no control over it and the filth he associates with.
We already have enemies; this is only going to make us more of a target.
Jensen can read between my words; we both know she was more than likely harmed at some point, but sexual abuse is another layer of harm.
“She was.”
“Fuck!” I throw myself back in my chair and drag a hand down my face. “He’s becoming worse,” I grunt out. “Is that even possible?” I ask, but don’t expect a response because we know the answer already.
Still, he gives it to me anyway. “He is,” he agrees. “What the fuck are we going to do, Azrael?”
I stare up at the ceiling. “I don’t know,” I admit, though I hate to do it.
“I refuse to be a part of trafficking children,” Jensen bites out. “Standing by and watching some of the men and women is bad enough.” He glowers.
I lower my head to face him, my eyes searing into him. “You knew the business when you got into it,” I snipe out.
He swallows hard. “I know. But Azrael, kids? She’s so small, Azrael, she’s—” He swallows again. “Hurt. A grown-ass man hurt a kid that way.” He shakes his head, disgust marring his every feature. And knowing how brutal some of these men can be, I’m sure my expression mirrors his, haunted.
I clear my throat. “Where is she now?”
He studies me, his gaze ping-ponging over mine, and I hold his stare, then his shoulders relax. “At mine.”
I nod. “Good. Keep her there.”
“She’s safe with me,” he states.
His words are a contrast to the man I know. Jensen is deadly, full of muscle. He’s ex-military, loyal to the bone. I saved his life after he became a target at a charity event. His team had turned on him, and in return, he became my guard.
He protects the very thing he swore to take down. It’s funny what betrayal can do to you, how your morals can change in a turn of events.
Of course, I’m well aware of his connections. Though he thinks I’m oblivious, I’m sure, but not once has he stepped out of line. Not once have I had reason to doubt him, though there’s only one man I trust with my life completely—Czar. But Jensen is a very close second.
I drag a finger over my lip. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
This seems to satisfy him, and he pushes back in his chair. “Azrael, I found her in one of your father’s bedrooms. He might be aware she’s gone.”
The wing in the mansion that my father and I use is the only one without CCTV.
The rooms are checked by our staff for bugging devices, and women are brought into the rooms on our arrival.
There’s no reason for anyone to go into the bedrooms unattended, and only someone with fingerprint recognition can get out of the wing.
When my little toy ran, she was completely unaware of this. She wouldn’t have gotten far, not without my help anyway. Pride fills my chest at knowing how much she does indeed need me.
“Leave it to me,” I say, and the tension slips from his face.
He jerks his chin and opens the door, but just as he’s about to walk through it, he turns to face me. “One day, I’ll repay you, Azrael.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he walks through the door, leaving me with a deep-seated hatred for the man who gave me life. Deep in my soul, I can feel the darkness looming over us, seeping in. He’s determined to make this new endeavor a reality, and I refuse to comply with it.
Only death and destruction await a demon, and I happen to be named after one.