Chapter 52 Ryder
Ryder
If you’d told me six months ago that I’d be wearing a fancy tuxedo to an event where I was looking for a potential sex trafficker, I’d have said you were crazy. Unless I was there specifically to steal some snob’s family heirloom, of course. Where else would I be?
“It’ll be okay,” I said, holding Violet’s hand so she’d stop picking at her nails. “We’re just going to go in, have a look around, and leave. Okay?”
Violet swallowed and looked up at me with brown doe eyes. It threw me every bloody time, seeing her with dark contacts and a brunette wig. For a second she looked almost like Greta… if you ignored the very obvious detail that she wasn’t her biological mother.
Plot twist of the century.
Violet’s nod was jerky, her knee bouncing as she sat beside me in the car. It had been almost a week of planning, of studying the building and potential guest list. Violet had a front row seat to my masterful prepping skills, and if that didn’t make her all hot and bothered, nothing would.
Leaning over, I slipped my arm beneath her and drew her firmly to my side. She was startled for a moment but relaxed as I settled my hand along her hip, fingers finding the edge of the high slit in her gown.
Aeris had chosen our outfits, my standard black tuxedo and Violet’s matching floor-length dress. Classic. Elegant. Meant to let us blend in without drawing attention.
The masks, though, had been a surprise. Mine hid my entire face, a stark, predatory thing with hollow mesh eyes and jagged, sculpted teeth. Violet’s was the opposite, a delicate slip of lace that covered only the top half of her face, softening more than it concealed.
I wanted her to stay at home, but unsurprisingly, she’d refused.
“Did you manage to speak to your mum before we left?”
The outside world blurred to nothing, the window becoming a smear of lights as the car carried us toward the edge of the city.
“No,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper in the darkness. “She still refuses to speak to me.” A pause. “She’ll understand… right?”
Violet had set boundaries, and I was actually proud. Even if it hurt her.
“She’s just scared,” I said gently. “She’ll come around.”
Violet nodded. “I just… I don’t really know what she went through, not really. This is the only thing I can do to save her.” Her eyes met mine, and once again I was taken back by the colour.
Yes, I was the one who’d insisted on the contacts, but with the wig and the makeup specifically to hide her freckles, it didn’t look like her.
And I hated it.
“It’s going to work out.”
She blinked up at me. “You believe that?”
“I do, because you do.” I cupped her jaw, my thumb stroking along her skin until I pressed against her bottom lip. “You’re not alone in this.”
Her cautious smile burned something deep in my chest.
“One word,” I murmured, “and we leave. Okay?”
She shook her head. “We don’t leave until we get something. Anything that connects to Mr C. We stick to your plan.”
I wanted to argue, to tell her again that we could walk away. But the car began to slow, and the moment slipped through my fingers. We rolled to a stop outside what appeared to be a generic office building.
The kind of place that could’ve easily been a call centre if not for the two armed guards flanking the entrance.
“You ready?” I asked.
Turning to face me in her seat, she nodded. “Do it.”
I reached around her delicate throat and clicked the necklace into place. It was a choker, thick, black, with the words ‘WHORE’ in the centre. Christ.
Slipping my mask on, I adjusted Violet’s for her before we stepped out into the cold air.
“Invite?” the guard on the left grunted, holding out a hand.
He and his friend wore black masks that covered their eyes like a budget Batman. He studied the expensive card longer than necessary, eyes flicking between us and the embossed lettering, before finally giving a curt nod to the guard on the right.
The inside was anything but generic. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high, exposed beams, scattering fractured rainbows across the dark hardwood floors.
Velvet sofas and low lacquered tables were arranged with deliberate elegance, all angled toward a small stage where a five-piece orchestra played.
I swept the room quickly, memorising every member of staff and possible exit.
“Bloody hell,” Violet whispered, accepting a champagne flute from one of the many waiters weaving through the room. Canapés, champagne, cigars—everything you could possibly want circulating as if money wasn’t an object.
“Aeris was right about the masks,” I muttered to her, keeping myself close as we walked through the crowd.
The men wore grotesque, almost predatory designs. All sharp angles and hollowed eyes, while the few women present were adorned in delicate, feminine pieces that glittered under the light. Most wore a similar choker, and even a few of the men who were kneeling on the floor, heads dipped.
“What is this place?” Violet asked, people turning at her voice.
I caught her wrist immediately, guiding her aside with a low murmur. “I’m getting the impression you’re not meant to speak.” I flicked a glance over her shoulder, noticing the way several men leaned together, whispering as their eyes followed her.
“Jesus,” she whispered, and of course, that’s when a bastard in a devil’s mask waddled over to us.
“You’re new,” he commented. His face was mostly hidden, but his bulging stomach and the sweat glistening along his hairline gave away more than he intended.
I stepped smoothly in front of Violet before he could get a closer look, angling my body so she was shielded without making it obvious. “What makes you think that?” I asked, trying to sound amused.
He laughed, a sickly wet sound behind the mask. “Only the new ones let their pets speak back.” His gaze crawled past my shoulder toward Violet. “Has she had much training?”
I smiled at him, slow, friendly, the kind of smile that should’ve put him at ease. Instead, it made him swallow. Oops.
“Why?” I chuckled, my fingers tightening around Violet’s wrist, both to steady her… and to keep myself from breaking this idiot’s jaw in the middle of a room full of witnesses. “You offering lessons?”
The man snorted. “No, no. I prefer them fully trained when I purchase them. Although, she’s pretty.”
He went to touch her, but I immediately tugged her further behind me.
“Ah-ah. No touching, mate.”
His hand froze mid-reach. “Of course,” he said, lowering it. “How rude of me. Please, where did you purchase her?”
“Mr Caretaker,” Violet blurted before I could get a word out.
He turned fully to face her, fixing her with the kind of stare that made my grip tighten instinctively. His beady eyes were barely visible beneath the mask, but they lingered on her a moment too long.
“Interesting,” he said at last. “If you’ll excuse me.”
He gave me a stiff nod, then moved off into the crowd.
I waited until he was well out of earshot before leaning down to her level, my mouth close to her ear. “What was that?” I murmured.
“I panicked,” she whispered, eyes wide beneath the lace. “Shit, do you think I’ve fucked up?”
I shook my head, gripping her tighter to my side. “Maybe don’t talk to anyone else.”
Violet nodded, then immediately opened her mouth.
“Seriously?” I muttered. “It hasn’t even been thirty seconds.”
“Stop being a dick,” she growled under her breath. “I want to know why Aeris is here.”
Frowning, I turned. Aeris was like a siren with her dark red dress, the shade matching her hair perfectly. She stood talking to a man with a full skull mask.
Her eyes brightened when she noticed us, and after a practiced smile she expertly excused herself from the conversation and slipped effortlessly to our side. She was one of the few women without a choker, her features concealed behind a delicate Venetian half-mask.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said, keeping my voice low. “What is this?”
“I have my reasons, as you have yours,” Aeris whispered, lifting her drink just enough to disguise the movement of her lips. “Caretaker is here.”
“I didn’t think he was supposed to attend?” I kept my eyes on the crowd, irritation tightening in my chest. I hadn’t planned for him to be here, which meant I needed to adapt.
Normally, that would’ve been easy because I was a fantastic-fucking-thief. But this wasn’t a normal job, not with Violet beside me. And every change to the plan felt like another crack waiting to split everything open.
“He’s not,” Aeris admitted, her voice dropping until she was barely audible over the orchestra.
“It could be a coincidence,” Violet said, though the uncertainty in her eyes betrayed the thought. The unease in my stomach surged. I’d worked enough rooms to know when instincts were worth listening to.
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” I muttered.
Aeris shifted her weight, her impossibly tall heels elongating her already long legs. A small, anxious movement. Jarring coming from a woman usually radiating confidence.
“Something’s changed, I just don’t know what,” she murmured.
“Nothing’s changed,” Violet added, looking at me. “We stick to the plan. We… you talk to people, ask around until we find out who he is.”
I let my eyes sweep the room again, scanning past masks, glittering dresses, and clusters of murmuring guests. Everyone was gravitating towards the stage, almost every single sofa already occupied.
“Then we’d better get started.”