15. Cipher
CIPHER
T he stench of blood hit me before I even stepped out of my truck. The scene, a narrow strip of desolate road between Silverdale and Port Townsend, was bathed in the faint glow of red and blue lights. The surrounding forest loomed, dark and silent, as if it too mourned the woman who now lay lifeless on the ground.
Aiyana was already there, crouched near the body, her gloved hands steady as she examined the girl’s neck. The word slut was carved deep into her chest, the jagged letters once again stark against another pale flesh. Rage simmered low in my gut, threatening to boil over.
This wasn’t just a message anymore. It was a fucking signature.
“Another one of Illicit’s girls,” Aiyana muttered, her voice tight with barely restrained anger. “She’s been dead for hours, maybe more. Same MO as the others—ligature marks, signs of struggle. He’s escalating.”
“Trail her movements,” I said, my voice rough. “Where was she last seen?”
“We’ve got a partial. She was spotted leaving the Silverdale hotel around midnight, heading toward a car, a black sedan, but no one saw her after that. This road…” Aiyana gestured toward the empty stretch of asphalt. “It’s a dead zone for cameras. He’s getting closer, Cipher. He’s fucking with us. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Tire marks down the trail show that the body was dumped here.”
“He’s meticulous, but he’ll slip.” My hands clenched into fists as I glanced down at the victim. Her lifeless eyes stared into the darkness, and for a moment, all I could see was Mila. Her fiery defiance. Her vulnerability. The way she had looked at me last night, trembling but unyielding.
I shook my head, forcing myself to focus. This wasn’t Mila. It wasn’t her.
“We need to bring in Sabrina Wellchild,” Aiyana said, rising to her feet. “She runs Illicit and knows these girls better than anyone. If anyone can tell us who might be targeting them, it’s her.”
“Set it up,” I said, my tone clipped. “I want in on the questioning.”
“The FBI will need to be communicated. We’re running an investigation that could potentially fuck over theirs. If we don’t bring them in they’ll barge in.”
“Fuck,” I uttered. “If we have to then let’s do it, but after we speak to Wellchild.”
Seated back in my truck, my mind drifted to the night before. Mila—wild, unbroken Mila. She’d burned herself into my skin, her touch leaving marks deeper than any scar. The way she looked at me, daring me to cross a line I couldn’t uncross, had been both infuriating and addictive.
She was mine. She didn’t know what that entailed, but I’d make sure she knew exactly it meant to be a Bastard’s woman.
Last night, I’d seen something raw in her, something that mirrored the chaos in my own soul. She fought me at every turn, but there was a part of her that surrendered. And fuck if I didn’t want to be the one she gave in to.
But now, with another body in the morgue and Yulian Volkovgrowing bolder, the danger to her was becoming more real. I’d sworn to protect her, even if it meant going to war with everyone who stood in my way.
The two-hour drive to Seattle stretched out in tense silence, the air inside the car suffocating as the storm clouds gathered in the distance. By the time we pulled into the city, the weight of what awaited us pressed heavy on my chest.
Sabrina Wellchild's office was a far cry from the seductive allure of Illicit. It was a cold, sterile cage of glass and steel, every detail sharp and designed to strip away comfort and leave you exposed. It mirrored the woman herself—powerful, unyielding, and deadly precise.
She sat across from Aiyana and me, her presence filling the room like a coiled cobra watching its prey. Her eyes were weapons, dark and calculating, cutting through every movement, every unsaid word as if she could carve out our intentions with a glance. Yet, beneath that ruthless facade, I saw it—the crack in her armor. Her jaw was tight, her fingers resting a fraction too still on the pristine desk, betraying the unease she fought to bury.
Sabrina was a woman who thrived on control, who wielded power like a scalpel. No amount of expensive perfume and rich jewels could hide the shadow of something darker lurking in her expression—fear, perhaps, or the weight of secrets that could crush her if they ever escaped.
“My girls are disappearing,” she began, her voice steady but tinged with frustration. “This isn’t just bad for business; it’s personal. They’re my responsibility.”
“And yet you’ve done nothing to protect them,” Aiyana said, her tone icy.
Sabrina’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t presume to know what I’ve done. Illicit is as secure as I can make it without drawing the wrong kind of attention. But this…” She gestured toward the file Aiyana had laid out, the photos of the victims. “This is something else entirely.”
“We need names,” I said, cutting through the tension. “Anyone who’s been frequenting your club, anyone who’s shown interest in these girls.”
Sabrina hesitated, her polished facade cracking slightly. “We do not give out client’s names. They pay for discretion.”
“This isn’t about discretion,” I leaned forward. “This is about murder.”
She paused before nodding. “There is one name…Tommy Lingdale. He’s been circling my girls for weeks, and now this? If it’s not him, it has to do with him.”
“And Mila Stepanovich?” I asked, watching her closely. “What do you know about her?”
Sabrina’s eyes darkened. “What do you know about Mila?”
“That’s none of your concern. But I do need you to enlighten me as to how she fell into your grasp.”
Sabrina leaned forward in her chair, pressing a manicured fingernail down onto her desk as she spoke. “Mila is under my protection. She’s… special. Her father saved me once, years ago. I owe him my life, and Mila’s safety is my way of repaying that debt. If you think for a second I’ll let anything happen to her…” Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “You’ll have to go through me, first.”
“Then why is she in danger?” Aiyana demanded. “If you’re so invested in her safety, why is she on the run? Why isn’t she with you?”
Sabrina sighed, the weight of her secrets pressing down on her. “Because Mila doesn’t want to be caged. She’s stubborn, headstrong, and fiercely independent. I tried to keep her close, but she slipped away. And now, with that monster hunting her…” She trailed off, her expression grim.
“Which monster are you speaking of, Ms. Wellchild?” I asked.
Her eyes turned toward the window. Outside was dark, and it had started to rain. Drops of water trickled down the glass as she spoke. “You know nothing of the monster you’re trying to track. Yulian Volkov is beyond dangerous. He’s cruel, and when he sets his eyes on you, you’re as good as dead.”
“How is it he hasn’t dug his claws into you. Illicit is right up his alley.”
She turned that icy stare on me. Conviction shone in her tone. “What I do here is legal. I do not need young girls to satisfy my clients. Every one of them gets run through a background check, non-disclosure agreements are signed, and every one of my clients is clear on the fact that my girls are not to be hurt.”
“So you’re saying you never had dealings with Yulian Volkov?”
“What I am saying is that he has tried, and this is probably payback for my rejection. Or maybe he’s found her and is pushing me to give up Mila’s location. Either way I don’t know where she is and I need my girls protected.”
The tension in the room thickened as Sabrina’s words hung in the air. Her gaze shifted back to the window, the rain outside casting jagged shadows across her face. She looked untouchable, yet the tremor in her voice hinted at a deeper fear.
“ She needs to be protected,” Sabrina continued, her tone firm but laced with urgency. “If Yulian gets his hands on Mila, it won’t just be her life at stake. He’ll use her to send a message, one drenched in blood.”
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the cold steel of her desk. The urge to shove past her words and pull the truth from her lips clawed at me, but I held back, forcing control into my voice. “If Mila’s safety is at risk, we need to know everything. No omissions. No half-truths. What exactly does Yulian want with her?”
Her sharp eyes pinned me, calculating whether I was someone she could trust—or just another threat to her carefully constructed empire. “He wants what he always wants—power, submission, control. Mila’s father was a powerful man, one who stood in Yulian’s way. His death didn’t end that grudge. If anything, it gave Yulian leverage.”
“And Mila’s his pawn,” Aiyana murmured, her voice quiet but cutting. “He’s using her to erase the last trace of her father’s legacy.”
Sabrina nodded, a small, reluctant movement. “Mila’s not just a pawn; she’s the prize. She’s strong, though. That girl’s been through hell and still managed to keep fighting. But that’s also what makes her dangerous—to herself and to anyone around her.”
I pressed, my voice dropping into a growl. “Why drag her into your world? Why use her?”
For a moment, Sabrina’s carefully maintained mask slipped. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her fingers curled into fists against the desk. “I owe her father my life. He saved me when I was nothing more than a scared girl trying to survive. Hiding Mila was my way of repaying that debt. But even I couldn’t keep her safe forever, stubborn girl, not if Yulian keeps coming. She’s a beacon to him, and he’ll never stop.”
The storm outside raged harder, the thunder echoing through the sterile office. I met Sabrina’s gaze head-on, letting the weight of my words sink into her. “Then help us stop him. Give us what we need to find Yulian and end this.”
For the first time since we’d entered the room, Sabrina’s control wavered entirely. Her shoulders sagged, and the edge of vulnerability in her expression struck harder than any words could. “I don’t know where he is, if that’s what you’re asking. No one does. And even if they did, they’ll never tell you because their life matters more than your investigation. But I will tell you this, Detective. Yulian isn’t just a man you can kill. He’s a force. You cut off one head, and ten more grow back in its place. But I’ll tell you this—if you want to protect Mila, you’ll need to become the monster he fears.”
The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the steady patter of rain against the window. Sabrina’s final words hung like a noose around my neck, a promise of the darkness I’d have to embrace to keep Mila safe.
I stood, fists clenched, my mind already racing. Aiyana rose with me, her expression as grim as my own. As we turned to leave, Sabrina called out, her voice low but resolute. “Find her before he does. And Detective… don’t let him take her alive.”
Back in the truck, Aiyana glanced at me. “You know where she is, don’t you?”
I stared ahead, not responding.
Aiyana sighed. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Cipher.”
“I’ve been playing dangerous games my whole life,” I said, gripping the wheel.
“Bulldog is…”
“Bulldog has gone through enough with this shit. I don’t want his name being dragged into this again.” I glanced over at her. “And I trust you won’t tell him anything until we get this contained.”
“Is she really worth all this? Your patch?”
“Normally I’d tell you nothing is worth my patch. But this woman? This woman’s worth is beyond my patch. She’s worth my own life.”
The road stretched out before us, dark and endless, but my thoughts remained on Mila. I’d protect her, even if it meant burning everything else to the ground.