CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LUCA
That evil bastard.
Fabian is fucked in the head, so the fact that he’s involved in the flesh trade isn’t a total surprise. You’d think after a childhood of violent lessons where Conrad taught us how to murder and manipulate men that nothing would shock me anymore.
But the sight of these shipping containers being filled with women is hard to watch.
And, to think, Eden accidently discovered this entire operation based on weird videos on the internet and a victim's bracelet.
When Jonah texted me, I’d slipped from our bed to dress and drive to the docks for the takedown. The flight from Italy to Massachusetts had been long, and Eden fell asleep almost immediately upon our arrival at the manor—Beanie snuggled close to her chest.
Never one to be far from my wife, I’d joined them for a nap until Jonah’s late-night message.
“Nathaniel and his team are in position. Everyone ready?” Dmitri took point the moment he arrived at the docks with Blackthorn reinforcements. Affirmatives ring out over the comm line, and anticipation buzzes through my veins, a live wire prepared to burst free and wreak havoc.
Tonight will be another dose of payback to Fabian for what he did to Eden, since I already dealt with the thugs who hurt her. It’ll also serve as a foreshadowing of what’s to come for the entire D’Amora organization, then The Syndicate.
Take no prisoners. Total decimation.
Dmitri gives the signal. He and I flank one container while Jonah and Hugo move to another. The D’Amora guards aren’t expecting trouble based on the lazy way they lounge around the dock. I wonder how many shipments have passed through here without a hitch for them to be so comfortable.
The likelihood of dozens of victims causes bile to rise in my throat, but I swallow it down, focusing on what I can control—saving these women tonight—versus what might have happened in the past.
Sneaking up behind a man lighting a cigarette, my knife slices across his carotid artery in a whisper-soft swish. A gurgle of blood follows before he drops to the ground. Like a game of dominos, each unlucky D’Amora bastard tumbles until only Blackthorn men remain in a field of bloody bodies.
We usually send a clean-up crew to wipe away the evidence of our presence, but not this time.
We want Fabian to see the carnage.
We want everyone to know that the Blackchapel Bastards won’t stand for human trafficking in our city.
***
It’s dawn by the time I return to the manor.
Dmitri and the rest of the guys are transporting the women we found to Polina’s Place—Dmitri and Aleksei’s safe haven for victims of abuse—but they don’t need my help anymore.
I’ve got my own woman to check on. Especially after witnessing the terror cloaking those we rescued.
The bedroom door silently opens to reveal Eden sprawled across our bed with Beanie holding court at the bottom of the mattress, her intelligent eyes tracking my steps. She must have had enough of Eden’s cuddling and decided to keep watch as her mistress’s sentry.
“It’s been a while since you’ve caught me sneaking into our girl’s room, huh?
” I whisper, petting her soft head. She’s used to my clandestine antics.
Beanie purrs, butting herself harder into my scratches, while I let the night’s activities drift away, enjoying the immediate peace just being near Eden causes.
Pale yellow light creeps over the floor and comforter in a single beam to highlight Eden’s relaxed features. Her mouth is slightly open, slow and steady puffs of air filling the quiet. Her fingers hold a fistful of the charcoal blanket under her chin.
She looks so innocent. Angelic . Tearing my eyes away, I escape her thrall to shower off the dirt and blood clinging to me. I don’t mind dirtying my sweet wife, but with sex and filthy words whispered in her ear, not the blood of other men.
The hot water washes over my body, and I lean against the tile for a moment, letting it carry away the evening’s activities, before scrubbing at my skin and hair.
Steam rises in the air, and my eyes half-close from exhaustion.
My movements become robotic. Automatic. Until I finally crawl into bed and curl an arm around Eden’s waist.
Sleep hovers around the edges of my consciousness when she twists around and blinks awake with an adorable yawn. “Where have you been? Did you just get home?”
“Yeah, Jonah and Hugo found shipping containers where Fabian was transferring women. It took some time and help from Dmitri and Blackthorn, but we rescued all the women at the docks. Thanks to you.” I press a kiss to her forehead.
Her eyes widen in shock, though she shakes her head in disagreement. “I didn’t do much. You and your brothers are the ones who actually saved them.”
“If it wasn’t for your gut instinct and the memory of that bracelet, we wouldn’t have known to even look for those women,” I say, recalling her concerns and the subsequent conversation I had with Rafe and the rest of the guys.
Rafe immediately went into research mode, and it hadn’t taken long for him to find some questionable correspondence and bank statements between Fabian and his clients.
Eden hums in her throat noncommittally as her finger draws a random pattern on my arm. “I know the internet can be a dark place, but I still can’t believe those ASMR videos popped into my feed. That they led to this.”
“Fabian is smart, but he’s not clever enough to figure out that all the apps access IP addresses and tailor videos to users’ local surroundings.
He thought hiding his tracks in innocuous-seeming massage videos and vague hashtags would be enough.
But it only takes one person with a bad feeling and computer skills to deep dive and discover what he’s really up to. That’s you and Rafe.”
Eden nods thoughtfully before another yawn takes over.
“That’s enough for tonight. You’re still tired, and I’ve been up for hours. We can both use more sleep.”
“You more than me after what you’ve had to deal with.” She stretches to press a kiss to my collarbone then sighs. “Thank you for believing in me.”
“Always,” I murmur as we both drift off, our breaths evening out, our hearts beating together in a steady rhythm.
In sync.
As one.