30. Candy
CHAPTER THIRTY
CANDY
F irst thing the next day, I’m back in the larger conference room with the team leading the operation in the Aspen sex trafficking case.
As ungodly early as our day kicks off, I’m grateful we didn’t start back in the gym. My body is still achy from Triple’s self-defense training yesterday and the earth-shattering orgasm Butch gave me last night. I need a few more hours of rest before going through the battering ram again.
This meeting is a small blessing. But my training is far from over. This morning’s assembly will focus on different areas relevant to our work.
I’m sipping my big mug of steaming coffee, loaded down with chocolate creamer and nibbling on one of Opal’s delicious homemade bagels slathered in cream cheese while I listen intently to Gauge and Atlas explain the positions each team member will play in the investigation.
“It’s important we have our roles perfected prior to going into this operation,” Gauge informs us, probably more for my knowledge since I’m new to all of this.
The VP points a thick finger to whom he’s addressing as he speaks. “Piero will play himself, wanting to build ties with Duffy or whoever else may lead the flesh trade. Keep us informed of any convos between you and Duffy prior to the auction. It’s important our team knows all the details to prevent being ambushed by our enemy. It goes without saying, but make sure you withhold your disgust for their actions. We can’t afford for our personal feelings to affect the case.”
“Understood,” Piero agrees with a small nod of his head, impeccably dressed in a three-piece business suit. Even this early in the morning, the don dresses to impress. He’s so polished compared to our crew in their worn denim pants, scuffed biker boots, Henley long-sleeve shirts, and black leather cuts—he sticks out like a sore thumb. The guys will need to step up their game and splurge on some Armani suits or equivalent if they’re going to pass for Piero’s security detail.
Gauge continues on to the next. “Butch, Tank, and Ziggy will be your muscle for the event, along with three of your men—Nico, Davide, and Enzo. No crime boss goes anywhere without his bodyguards. Piero’s men are for him. Our crew is for Candy.”
Seems like overkill. I quickly swallow down my mouthful of bagel. “Three bodyguards for me? Isn’t that excessive?”
“No,” Atlas chimes in, his voice firm. “For appearances, all the men will be there as Piero’s security detail. However, three bodyguards for each of you will be effective if something were to arise where you needed protection.”
“But six bodyguards is a lot,” I explain to Atlas and the team. “The few times I went with Lorenzo to auctions, the most guards accompanying him were four.”
Piero waves off my concern. “No one will be surprised to see me with such a large party. I’m a new investor walking into unfamiliar terrain. It would look more suspicious if I didn’t bring a bigger detail. Better to have more manpower than not enough.”
“Okay,” I concede. “Makes sense.”
“Butch and Ziggy will also work inside tech if need be, while Chase works his magic from the outside,” Gauge says to the guys before turning his attention to me.
“Candy, you’ll play Piero’s escort for the event—our secret weapon. Point out all important buyers you may come across if you know them, show us the access points inside the house where the women are most likely to come out of or are being held, and let us know of anything else that may be beneficial for our success while inside the auction site. Don’t talk to anyone unless you have no choice—let Piero do the bulk of the work.”
“Our goal is to keep you out of the limelight as much as possible,” Atlas adds. “You’re the familiar face, putting Duffy and whoever else at ease. The less you interact with others, the safer you’ll be.”
“Fine by me,” I agree.
Interacting with Duffy or any of the buyers present isn’t something I want to do beyond what’s necessary to bring these women home. However, it would be nice contributing beyond pretending to be Piero’s arm candy. Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.
“You can back out at any time,” Atlas instructs me. “Say you ‘need out’ into the comms, and we’ll pull you. We can always create a scene where you act up and Piero sends you away for being disobedient.”
Atlas is a good man, always making sure the women in our crew are safe. It’s comforting knowing he cares about my mental health and well-being—how all of them care for me. Yet I care more about the victims than my emotions getting triggered. Guess I have a bit of the hero complex, like the rest of the guys.
I give him a reassuring smile. “Thanks, Atlas. It’s good to know I have an exit strategy if I need it. But you should know, I don’t plan on using it.”
Butch groans next to me, rubbing at his forehead. “Figures you’d say that.”
“All the same,” Atlas continues. “Don’t put yourself through unnecessary turmoil. Understood?”
“Got it, Prez. ”
“The rest of our crew will surround the perimeter, blocking all escape routes. None of these fuckers are leaving the auction without cuffs,” Gauge says, ending his directions.
“Does that mean we have a location?” Stage asks, rubbing his hands together.
Atlas turns to Chase, a smirk on his face. “Care to answer?”
“Please,” Chase says, with a roll of his whiskey-colored eyes. “It’s insulting you even ask.” His fingers run along his keyboard on his laptop before the monitors on the wall display coordinates, maps, and aerial footage of a large stone property.
“That’s it,” I say, pointing to the screens. “That’s the manor where I went to the auctions.”
Piero snorts. “It helps I got confirmation of the location for the auction in a text from Duffy last night.”
Chase glowers at the mobster. “Hey, man. I was ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure this was the location, based on the info Candy provided prior to you forwarding Duffy’s text. All I needed was Candy’s confirmation. Therefore, I found it first, Jackass.”
Piero hides his chuckle behind his hand, shaking his head.
“Well done, Chase.” Atlas turns his attention to the crew members across the table. “Eagle, Stage, and Triple—you’re going to stake out the property. Scout every inch of the terrain. Make sure we have all the exits and entrances to the property accounted for. I want every road and trail marked for the position of our crew. The more we know, the more success our team will have at stopping any of those fuckers from escaping.”
“Atlas, the house had cameras everywhere,” I warn. “Inside and out from what I saw. And it wasn’t some kind of shabby technology. More than once, a captive has tried to make a run for it on auction day. They never got far.”
“Then we avoid the manor and stick to the surrounding property,” Atlas tells the scouts. “There’s more than one way to get knowledge about the inside of the house. Chase can continue to dig for blueprints on the build-site. Gather your gear, brothers. I want you on-site today and reporting back within forty-eight hours. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Prez,” the three scouts say in unison before heading out of the conference room.
Atlas turns his hard face to Piero. “Did Duffy send you headshots of the women in his text?”
“Yes. I got a link and passcode. I passed it on to Chase as soon as it came through.”
“How many victims are being auctioned?” Atlas asks Chase.
“Twenty in all.”
Chase’s fingers tap feverishly across his laptop. The monitors on the wall change from the property to the faces of the women being held captive. Some look too young to be adults.
Everyone seems to hold their breath, taking in the many scared faces on display and committing them to memory.
“This isn’t accounting for all the women we have on record as missing,” Punk says heatedly between his teeth. “Where are all the rest?”
“Not part of this auction,” Chase replies, his voice heavy with disappointment. He indicates to the monitors. “Based on the profile descriptions, this is Duffy’s prime selection.”
The crew scoffs, shaking their heads and cursing under their breaths.
“The rest of the missing people are either being reserved for a different auction or already sold off to other buyers who have certain requests.”
“Or shoved into underground brothels,” I add coldly.
“Could be,” Chase says gravely, agreeing.
“Looks like our missing college girls are among the auction profiles,” Butch chimes in, his eyes focused on the twenty faces staring back at us.
“Indeed they are,” Atlas says, his eyes fixed on the monitors.
“Who are the CSU students?” I ask, wanting to see the faces of the women taken close to our home .
Ziggy goes up to the touch screens and circles the three women in red, saying their names in order. “Stacy Gander, Jolie Hernandez, and Bree Nowak.”
I take in the photos of the three women. All of them are pretty and young. Stacy is a blond with pixie hair and glasses, the bookish type—she’ll be popular among some buyers. Bree is a willowy woman, with long chestnut hair and sad blue eyes. She’ll fetch a heavy price. I stare at Jolie’s photo the longest. She’s a beauty, with long black lashes and a shoulder-length bob of thick black curls. But it’s the cherry emoji on her profile that grips my heart.
“The handlers will keep Jolie separate from the others,” I inform the group, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Why?” Gauge asks, his eyebrow cocked.
I point to her profile. “A cherry means she’s a virgin. She’ll be among the last of the women to be brought out—perhaps the last. Virgins are popular among the buyers, and they save the most profitable for last. They also keep them away from the others being sold, so as not to confuse the men guarding the rest.”
“Why does it matter if they’re separated?” Punk presses me for more information.
It takes a moment for my nerves to settle before I can answer without crying. “They keep them separate so the guards don’t confuse a virgin for a non-virgin, in case a guard treats himself to a prisoner. It’s how they ensure the virgins remain virgins through the sale.”
Tank snarls with disgust, turning his head away from the faces on the screens. “Fucking hell.”
The tank-size biker’s reaction is understandable. It’s tough to have an objective conversation regarding what horrors the women are potentially facing when you’ve seen their faces. It makes the job that much harder to endure.
“Disgusting,” Piero mutters, his nose turned up. “But makes sense from the business perspective. A seller needs to ensure its buyer their product is what they say it is. ”
“This is helpful, Candy. We know the victims will be kept in at least two different holding areas,” Atlas muses aloud, staying focused on the task. “Do you know where in the building the prisoners are kept?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t, only that it’s underground. They come up through elevators on either side of the auction stage, where the buyers can observe them from their personal box seats.”
“Can you see the other buyers?” Ziggy asks.
“Not really. The luxury box windows are tinted to protect the identity of the other buyers. Only the stage is lit. Someone would have to be pressed against the glass to get an idea of who sits there.”
“Nothing a little night vision wouldn’t help with,” Punk muses aloud.
“There’s no way our inside team can sneak night vision goggles in. But when the rest of us ambush, it’ll help to have them,” Atlas says before motioning with his hand for me to continue.
“As I was saying, the bulk of the captives come from the left elevator, while the most valuable come out the right elevator. That’s how I learned about the virgins. I overheard Lorenzo mention to another buyer how they separate them from the gen pop to ensure the ‘quality isn’t tainted.’”
“Still valuable intel,” Atlas says. “Every bit helps.” He signals for the discussion to move on to the next topic, clapping his hands together once. “Updates are done. Let’s try some roleplay scenarios to see how this team will act under pressure.”