Coveted by Cupid (RBMC: Loveland, Colorado #1)

Prologue

UNKNOWN

Three Months Earlier

Any day now…

Annoyed, I drum my fingers against the steering wheel of my unmarked van parked west of Colorado State University on Prospect Road, waiting for my scout to arrive with a potential recruit. The area offers less foot traffic compared to the surrounding campus, allowing our meeting to be private.

With our operations branching out into new territories to acquire more stock for our demanding client requests, a college town is the perfect environment to plunder. All these unsuspecting marks, walking around without a care in the world, are ripe for the taking.

It’s almost too easy. Night classes, bar closings, even the local hiking trails where students like to get out by themselves to escape the public are all prime locations for abducting young women to be sold underground to the highest bidders or used in the slave dens until they are no longer of any use.

The problem is we need an inside person to tell us where the hot spots are or what areas to avoid.

It could take months of scouting the area, losing out on potential sales.

We’d have to reuse a lot of our inventory, keeping women drugged up, fed, and maintained until new inventory emerged—money the organization I work under doesn’t want to spend.

Most of our clients don’t want the same woman after they’ve had her. It’s not as fun fucking a used-up toy compared to a new, shiny woman they want to break in.

Hence, I enrolled my scout in CSU to help us find a willing recruit to give us the lay of the land.

Most college students are broke. Offer them a job with lots of cash, and they turn a blind eye. And when the recruit has served their purpose, a bullet to the head and a body dump in the mountains for scavengers to pick clean is an easy way to dispose of an eyewitness.

There’s a knock on my driver’s door window. My scout is on the other side of the glass, waiting expectantly like a good little foot soldier.

Finally. I roll down my window, breathing in the frigid January air. “About time. What took so long?”

“He took more convincing,” she says, turning to look over her shoulder where a young man with one of those stupid bird’s nest haircuts all the kids are sporting these days is standing idly on the other side of the road.

He’s dressed in layers of flannel and a bomber jacket, looking like some Abercrombie & Fitch model—not the typical type my scout picks for recruiting.

The young man’s eyes dart around the deserted street with unease, probably wondering why he’s having a business meeting here of all places.

I raise an eyebrow at my scout. “What kind of convincing? I didn’t give you permission to spread your legs.”

Her eyes widen with alarm. “Not like that, boss. He has a girlfriend, and he was supposed to see her tonight. I had to reassure him I was helping him as a friend only, convincing him to cancel on her to learn about the job.”

“But you like him?” I say deadpan, reading right through her.

She worries her bottom lip, looking at the ground. “He’s cute, I guess.”

I snort, shaking my head at her choice of male attractiveness. “Who is he?”

“He’s a guy in my business program. We sit next to each other in class.

I ran into him at the commons on campus, buying coffee.

He was short on cash, so I paid for his beverage.

He thanked me, and we shared a table. When he mentioned his finances were tight and not getting enough hours at the CSU merch shop where he works, I told him I knew of a gig where he could bring in a few thousand a month in cash. He’s intrigued.”

“Mmm,” I hum, eyeing the guy. He certainly looks like a tool, a gullible one at that.

“He’ll do it,” she says earnestly. “He just needs some convincing.”

I turn my attention back to my scout. “You better hope he does, or else you’ll find yourself on your back, taking dick after dick at the whorehouse where I found you. You’re a pretty girl with a lot of potential to lure in men for our hustle. Let’s keep it that way, da?”

My scout shivers, not from the cold, but from my promise, knowing without a doubt I’ll follow through if this recruit tucks tail and tries to run. I’ll have to kill him on the spot, dealing with a mess I’d rather avoid.

She gives me a stiff nod before adjusting her face into a pleasant smile for her companion, turning to wave him over.

The guy comes willingly, plastering on a polite smile. He holds his hand out to me. “Hi, I’m?—”

“Get in the van,” I say, cutting him off with my heavy Russian accent. “I don’t talk business in the open.”

The recruit stammers. “Oh, um, okay.”

He walks around the van, climbing into the passenger seat while my scout climbs in the back.

With the van doors closed, I turn to the recruit. “You want to make some dough?”

“Yes, sir,” he says earnestly. “I’m a quick study. Whatever the job is, I’m sure I’ll excel at it.”

“Good,” I say, pleased. “How long have you been a student at CSU?”

“Almost six years,” he answers. “I’ll be graduating in the spring.”

“You know the campus well then, da?”

“Oh yes,” he says, nodding. “Real well. I could give tours. What is it you need me to do?”

“The job is…unorthodox. It is not everyone’s cup of tea.

You’ll be doing something similar to your friend here,” I say, motioning to my scout.

“As a scout, you’ll be recruiting others to join the labor portion of the business.

You’ll get a list of characteristics our clientele are looking for in a recruit.

Your job is to find someone who checks all the boxes and inform me and my men where the recruit is located, allowing us to…

set up a meeting. Each recruit you land, you get a few grand. ”

The guy nods along, smiling. “Sounds doable. When do I start?”

I smirk, turning to my scout in the backseat. “Тебе повезло в этот раз.”

She gives me a thin, tense smile, doing her best not to reveal her nerves in front of the recruit who is watching our exchange.

Returning my attention to the college kid in the passenger seat, I pull out a slip of paper from my inside coat pocket and hand it to the guy. “Here’s your list. Find a potential source that fits all the criteria and notify our friend here in the backseat when you find the person.”

He takes the list from my hand, reading through the checklist with a furrowed brow of intent. When he’s done, he looks back at me with an unfazed expression—still clueless what I plan to do with the potential victims he finds me.

“Okay, I can work with this. How much time do I have to find someone who fits all this?” he asks, holding up the list.

“Two weeks. If you can’t fulfill the order, you don’t get paid.”

I lean into his space, getting right in his face to let him know I mean business. He blinks in surprise, shrinking against his seat.

“Don’t fuck this up. You’ll not like the penalty for failing.”