9. Royce
9
ROYCE
L eaning over the back of the desk chair in Xander’s too-small office, I squint at the grainy picture on the screen.
“Dude, I swear, if your putrid breath hits my cheek one more time…” Dax growls. He raced back here after his fight in New York when Blue notified him of this possible lead.
“Fuck off.” I smack the back of his head, but not hard enough to do any real damage—he is helping us, after all. “I popped a breath mint.” Ignoring him, I lean in closer to the screen once more, scanning every pixel of the photo.
A photo that shows a brown-haired—is that a hint of red?—little girl. Her face is down, her hair falling forward, preventing us from getting a half-decent look. She’s dressed in a worn, blue-green princess dress that looks a size too big for her, and beneath the picture is the name Ariel.
Definitely not her name . Still… my nose presses closer to the laptop screen. That is, without a doubt, a hint of red, right?
“I’m serious, man. I can’t work if you’re blocking my view.” Dax shoves at my shoulder, and I grunt a half-hearted apology as I reluctantly lean back.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I scan the dozen other photos alongside Ariel’s . All are little girls dressed up and renamed as Disney princesses. In each one, the dresses are a little torn or tattered, the girls are barefoot, and most aren’t looking at the camera. The ones who are… they are the photos that scare me the most. While the images are grainy, making it impossible to discern individual features, there is no mistaking the fear in those kids’ eyes—the red noses from endless tears.
A commotion in the hall is quickly followed by the door being thrown open, and Logan rushes in. Riley is on his heels, Gray bringing up the rear.
“You have a lead?” Riley asks, breathless and wide-eyed as she stares at me.
Fuck, there is so much hope in those eyes. This lead better pan out because the thought of getting her hopes up only to be crushed sickens me. I’m already in a state of constant agitation, made worse when Riley startles awake in the middle of the night from a nightmare. I can’t bear the thought of adding even more disappointment to her plate.
“Maybe,” I hedge.
“What the fuck do you mean, maybe?” Gray snarls. “You said you had a fucking lead.”
I arch a warning brow at him. Now is most definitely not the time for his temper to get the better of him. This room is already suffocatingly small with all of us in it.
Teeth grinding, he sucks in a breath before slowly exhaling.
“What’s the lead?” Logan asks, defusing the situation as he pulls Riley into his arms, holding her steady.
Dax turns the laptop to face them, giving them a second to take in what they are seeing before pointing to Ariel’s picture. “Do you think that could be Aurora?”
My gaze remains glued on Riley’s pale face as her eyes bounce over the screen, seeming to linger on every one of the twelve pictures before coming to rest on the one that may be of her daughter.
Her throat stretches around a swallow before she steps forward, coming closer to the screen as Logan’s arms fall away. However, he doesn’t let her go far, remaining right behind her in case she needs him. He’s the source of comfort she has needed this past week. The only one of us who knows how to care for her while I do everything I can to track down the sick bastard who purchased Aurora, and Grayson… Grayson gives Riley an outlet for all those ugly emotions she’s feeling and unable to process or give voice to. He has a knack for sensing when she needs that outlet—someone to explode on—and he’s perfected the art of pissing her off.
“I—I don’t know,” Riley admits in a tight voice after staring at the photo for several long moments. “Maybe?” She shakes her head, eyes never leaving the screen as frustration creases her brow. “I can’t be sure. The hair looks like hers, and the size and build look similar, but…” Her eyes lift to mine, the turmoil I find in her hazel depths slaying me. “Shouldn’t I know what my own daughter looks like?” Her lips tremble, and my heart openly bleeds for her. It takes everything in me to remain in place. To not round the table and pull her into my arms so she can freely fall apart.
“It’s a poor-quality photo, sweetheart,” I try to soothe instead. “And you can’t see her face. We didn’t expect you to be able to discernibly identify her.”
Tears rim the bottom of her lids as she holds my gaze. “But you’re going to investigate anyway?”
I nod, holding her stare and hoping she can see that I won’t stop until I find her little girl. She latches onto my gaze like it’s a lifeline. A buoy in rough waters preventing her from being dragged under.
“What is this anyway?” Gray asks, stepping up beside Riley to get a closer look at the screen.
“We think it’s some sort of auction,” Dax explains.
“You think ?” Grayson’s harsh snap might have others jumping out of their skin, but Dax doesn’t even miss a blink.
“As I was saying,” Blue drawls, interrupting the stare-off between Gray and Dax—oh shit, I completely forgot he was on the phone—“That’s all the info I can get without registering to attend the event. Whoever is organizing this has covered all their bases. They have everything locked down. I’ve been searching for hours but can’t find a backdoor past their security.”
“Keep trying,” Dax tells him as he grabs his phone from the desk and ends the call. Pushing to his feet, he casts his eyes around the room. “This is a discussion between the four of you.” Meeting my gaze, he adds, “Whatever you decide, you know you have my support. I’ll get a team organized.”
I nod, and without another word, he strides from the room, leaving oppressive silence, the stench of fear, and the tiniest amount of, dare I say, hope in his wake.
“What’s he talking about?” Logan asks, glancing between the closed door and me.
“Along with the image Blue found, there’s a link to a private room where you can get the event details—when, where, etc.” My gaze drifts over each of them. “There’s a price simply to get into the chat room—it’s steep.”
Riley’s face drops as Logan scoffs. “Whatever it is, we’ll pay it.”
“Agreed,” Grayson adds.
“I figured as much.” Given how, between us, we had agreed to put a hell of a dent in our inheritances to get Aurora away from Lydia. However, since we don’t know for certain that this is Aurora, I needed to run it past them first.
Riley glances between us with an open mouth and so much gratitude shining in those hazel eyes. However, she doesn’t mount a word of protest—for once. I didn’t expect she would, not when it comes to something so precious. She may feel guilty, but she won’t object. Nor would we let her get her way, even if she did.
What is the point of having money if we can’t spend it on making the woman we love happy? And nothing will make her happier than having her daughter back in her arms. Not that I’ll let that stop me from spoiling her. I might not have the same bottomless pit of inheritance the others do. In fact, I have pennies in comparison—My dad all but disinherited me after I publicly disgraced the family . In other words, he didn’t give two shits about what I’d supposedly done when he’d swept it under the rug, but once Halston got wind of the accusations, and the rumor mill started, he claimed he needed to ‘distance’ me from the King name. If he had another child, I’m confident I’d have been excommunicated. As it was, he settled for publicly disowning me and financially cutting me off to teach me a lesson .
The only lesson I learned was that I don’t need my father’s money to survive. I do just fine with what I make from my fights, plus a few well-placed bets on myself.
However, I do have a small inheritance from my grandfather that I have never been more grateful for than I am now. That is the money I plan on using to help get Aurora back, and I don’t give a shit if I spend every penny achieving it.
As far as I’m concerned, it’s the investment of a lifetime.
Knowing we’re all in agreement, I sit in Dax’s vacated chair and drag the laptop closer. Unlocking my phone, I pull up the username details Blue sent me for an account he’s been warming up for the past couple of weeks. He reckons—and I’d agree—that if whoever runs this thing is so tight on security, they’ll vet anyone who tries to join the group, regardless of how much they are willing to pay to get in.
Once I’ve logged into the account, I glance at the others crowded around me before requesting to join the private room. A message pops up on the screen. Your request is pending approval.
“What now?” Logan asks, his arm around Riley’s waist as he flicks his gaze from the screen to me.
“Now, we wait.”
Dinner is a quiet affair. The laptop sits open on the kitchen island, and I’m pretty sure we all spend more time glancing at it than at our plates.
“What’s the plan when we have a time and location?” Gray asks when the scrape of cutlery against porcelain becomes cloying.
Riley abandons any pretense of eating—all she’s done is push food around her plate since Logan set it in front of her—to look at me. It’s the set of her jaw and the spark of determination in her eyes that gives away her intentions before she says, “Whatever the plan is, I’m coming.”
“Absolutely not.” Grayson’s harsh tone cuts like a blade, earning him an incinerating look from Riley.
“Ry—” I try more tactfully before she shakes her head, cutting me off.
“No. You kept me out of the loop last time, and while I understand why you did, I’m not doing it again. I can’t sit here and wait for you to return, wondering whether you have my daughter with you. It’s not happening. I’m coming with you. ”
Her declaration is met with a moment of silence as I exchange glances with the guys. Gray looks like he’s about to mount another protest— fucking idiot . Thankfully, before he can incite World War Three, Logan interjects. “Alright, so looks like we need to find a way to get the four of us into this event.”
“You can’t be fucking serious?” Grayson growls.
Seriously? Dude needs to learn to recognize a losing battle. Do I want to put Riley in danger by bringing her with us? No. Do I want her exposed to the sick underbelly we’re going into? Hell no. Do I recognize that wild horses won’t stop her from coming? You can bet your ass.
Instead of trying to talk her out of coming—or knowing Grayson, devising ways to ensure she can’t —my priority needs to be ensuring she is safe and protected at all times.
“Grayson,” Riley snarls in a tone so vicious that I can’t help but smirk. In a fight between Mama Bear vs. Grayson, my money is on Riley. Every. Single. Time. “If you so much as think about keeping me away from this, I will blend your balls into soup and force it down your throat.”
Coughing to disguise his laugh, Logan not so subtly lifts his hand from the table to cover his balls.
Unperturbed, Grayson’s dark eyes narrow on Riley. “While you’re focused on your daughter and these two idiots are too pussy whipped to say no to you?—”
“Hey!” Logan interjects with a scowl.
“— I am trying to keep you safe. You don’t need to see the shit that goes down in a place like that.”
“But my daughter does?” Riley spits back.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Grayson’s shoulders drop on an exhale. “Of course not.” Bottling up his anger, an emotion I’ve never seen on him before flares from his eyes as they meet Riley’s. “If I could prevent Aurora from stepping foot somewhere like that, I would.” He swallows roughly. “But I can’t.”
“You can’t stop me either, Grayson. And if you try, you will destroy any hope of there ever being anything between us.”
Nostrils flaring, the grind of Grayson’s teeth is the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Just when I think he’s going to shoot himself in the foot and forever ruin whatever they might have, he manages to swallow back his protests. Sounding like he’s chewing on nails, he spits a “Fine.”
“It’s not like we’re going to let anything happen to her in there,” I point out. “She’ll always be with one of us, and Dax will have a team on standby.”
Grayson’s curt nod is the only response he seems capable of making as he sulks in his chair, looking like someone pissed in his cereal.
“Laptop,” Logan barks as the screen lights up with a notification. Chair legs scrape against the floor as we all crowd around the island. Me in front of the laptop with Riley on my left, Logan looking over her head from right behind her, and Grayson on my right.
I can feel the tension coiling through the air around us as I type in my password and bring up the site. A notification pops up saying I have a new message. All it contains is an amount and a phone number. Probably a burner, and the bank account it’s connected to is emptied as soon as the money hits and closed once the event is over.
Should the organizers check, we’ve already moved money into an account Blue set up that will link back to my dummy online account, so I quickly transfer it over.
This time, we only have to wait several minutes before we’re sent a link to the private room.
Welcome to the Royal Ball , is written on a banner across the top, where you have the opportunity to find your perfect little princess.
“Jesus, this is sick,” Logan unnecessarily comments.
Beneath are profiles for each of the princesses . I scroll to the Ariel one. The pictures are all as grainy and out of focus as the initial one Blue found. However, the unhelpful photo includes details such as the girl’s height, weight, eye and hair color, plus any unique features.
Riley’s sharp inhale has us all straightening. “Aurora has a birthmark on her lower back,” she exclaims with restrained hope, reading the unique feature mentioned for Ariel .
“Eye and hair color match,” I point out.
“And the height and weight are about right. I hadn’t checked her height since I started at Halston, but she’s shot up several inches since last summer,” Riley supplies. I notice her squeeze Logan’s arm from the corner of my eye. “Oh my god, it really could be her.”
“When is the event?” Grayson asks, his impatience audible.
Scrolling to the bottom of the page, I find the details we’re looking for—date and time along with an image of a map with a circle indicating the general area of the event and a note that an entry pass and coordinates will be sent fifteen minutes before the start time.
Reading the date and time, my gaze snaps to the digital clock. “Shit, it’s in two hours.” I shouldn’t be surprised that we’re only finding out at the last minute. Why announce a highly illegal event days or weeks in advance and give the authorities time to find out about it and assemble a team.
“Where is it?” There’s an urgency behind Logan’s question. “Can we make it in time?”
Fuck, I hope so.
Typing the name of a nearby town into the browser brings up the location as close to three hours away. “It’ll be tight, but we can make it if we leave right now.” I’m already closing the laptop and grabbing my phone to call Dax. No way do I want to go into this without knowing we have backup ready outside.
“Hold on, we can’t go like this.” Grayson gestures at the sweats Logan is wearing. “It’s a ball. They’re going to expect us to be dressed up.”
“Shit, he’s right.” Logan swipes his hand through his hair. “I’ll be ready in five.”
Grayson has a point, though. “We all need to change. Full suits. Ry, you got a dress you can put on?”
She nods, pupils dilated with anxiety, leaving only a thin ring of hazel as she nibbles on her lip. “Are they going to let all of us in?” she asks nervously, glancing between us.
“You’ll go in with Grayson. Logan and I will pretend to be his muscle. There to ensure the cargo is transported safely.” Riley’s nose isn’t the only one that scrunches.
“Alright, so we have a plan,” Logan states seriously.
“Yup, go get ready, and I’ll call Dax.”
“Got it,” I state as coordinates, and a QR code appears on my phone. We broke every speed limit and took more than a few risks climbing the steep mountainside roads to get here on time, and I had pulled into a mostly empty gas station a few minutes ago to await this message.
Plugging the coordinates into the GPS of the unmarked SUV Dax lent us to protect our identities and help sell our aliases, I glance at Riley in the rearview mirror before I pull the car onto the road. She’s sitting in the back with Grayson, the two of them finely dressed, as she stares out her passenger window and chews on her lip.
Leaving behind the small mountainside town, I follow the directions along a winding road. The SUV’s tires glide over the asphalt, the hum of the engine the only sound as we draw nearer. My hands grip the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, my jaw set in a hard line as I navigate the treacherous curves. The headlights cut through the inky darkness, revealing the perilous drop just inches from the road’s edge.
Beside me, Logan stares out the window, his thoughts a storm of fear and resolve. I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves, mirroring my own anxiety. I can’t fail Riley again. I need this little girl to be Aurora, and this time I’m not fucking leaving without her.
Flicking my attention to the rearview mirror, my gaze catches on Grayson, his focus on the winding road ahead. His face is stoic, but a tightness around his lips and eyes belies his concern—not only for Riley but for Aurora. For all of us, really. Grayson’s anger comes from a place of caring. He’s a strategist. A planner. He despises how we’ve had to rush into this without knowing all the variables. I can’t say I disagree.
The road twists and turns as we drive in silence, each lost in our thoughts. The gravity of the situation is a dense cloud surrounding us all. Finally, a faint light appears in the distance, our destination coming into view as the SUV’s headlights sweep over a set of tall, imposing gates guarded by men in dark uniforms. The sight brings a mix of emotions—relief, anxiety, and a flicker of hope. Riley takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what’s to come as she leans forward between the two front seats. I catch a whiff of her perfume and inhale deeply, breathing it into my lungs.
A short line of high-end cars forms a line in front of us, each vehicle inching forward, their occupants masked in shadow and secrecy. I pull the SUV into the line, my heart pounding louder with each passing second. Logan shifts beside me, his gaze sharp and alert as he scans our surroundings.
As we near the front of the line, my pulse quickens. “Remember your roles,” I remind everyone as the first guard approaches, his expression stern and unyielding. He motions for me to lower the window, and I comply, feeling the cool mountain air rush in.
“Your QR code,” he demands, holding out a scanner. He runs it over my phone screen, and the device pings in confirmation. With a nod, he signals to another guard, who approaches with a different device.
This one begins meticulously scanning our SUV, running the device over and under the vehicle. I grip the steering wheel tighter, every muscle in my body taut with anxiety.
“How many are in the car?” the first guard asks, pointing his flashlight into the backseat before I’ve had a chance to respond. In a panic, my gaze snaps to the rearview mirror, and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief when I see Grayson has pulled Riley in against him. Her face is hidden from view, his hand high on her exposed thigh as he nuzzles her neck.
As the flashlight glances off his face, he lifts his head, scowling at the guard. “Aren’t we done already?” he drawls in that perfected haughty arrogance. “I want to get this party underway.”
“Apologies, Sir. We’re just doing a quick sweep of the car, and then you’ll be on your way.”
With a grunt, Grayson dismisses the guard as he buries his face in Riley’s neck, eliciting a fake moan.
My fingers tap against the steering wheel, counting out each tense second until the second guard gives a curt nod to his colleague. The first guard steps back and gestures for us to proceed. “Enjoy your evening.”
One hurdle down , I tell myself as I roll the SUV through the open gates. I swear the entire car releases a collective breath as we leave the guards behind and move down the driveway.
“Who knew your assholery could be used for good?” Logan taunts in a bid to break the cloying tension.
Riley’s laugh is strained, and Grayson merely grunts in response, any levity falling by the wayside as a mountain lodge comes into view, exuding timeless elegance and rustic charm. The car’s headlights sweep across the exterior, illuminating the striking combination of natural stone and rich, dark wood, which blends seamlessly with the surrounding forest. Towering evergreens frame it, reminding me that we’re a long way from Halston.
The lodge's exterior lights, positioned to highlight its architectural beauty, cast long, dramatic shadows across the front lawn and the surrounding forest, highlighting the number of parked cars.
I roll the SUV to a stop at the foot of a stone pathway that leads up to the front door. “Ready or not,” Logan murmurs. The significance of what we’re about to do crackles in the air as we all share a final, loaded glance before I push open my door and step out of the vehicle.
“Keep it nearby,” I tell a valet as I hand him the car keys. “We won’t be staying long after the event.”
“Sir.” With a nod, he hurries into the driver’s seat, and I move to open the back door, maintaining my role of bodyguard as Grayson elegantly exits the car. His posture straightens as he takes in our surroundings with an air of indifference before turning to offer Riley his hand, helping her out.
Her heels clack against the stone as she clings to his arm. She smiles up at Grayson like he hung the moon as she plays the part of his alluring side piece. Her red dress shimmers in the dim light, highlighting her pale, creamy skin on display. My jaw tightens, and I have to rip my gaze away before I toss her back into the car and drive her the hell out of here.
Grayson keeps Riley tucked beneath his arm as they walk ahead of us along the stone pathway lined with softly glowing lanterns. The lanterns guide visitors to the set of heavy wooden doors wedged open, allowing bright light to spill into the night. Logan and I fall into step behind them, our expressions stern and unyielding, embodying muscle and intimidation.
Two guards stand on either side of the entrance, their eyes cold and calculating as they skim over each of us before dismissing us as we step over the threshold and into the lodge filled with its sickening opulence.
“Looks like the lodge has been rented by a private corporation,” Dax informs me via the tiny earpiece hidden in my ear as I glance around the lobby. High ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers cast a warm glow over the marble floors and plush carpets. A soft, seductive melody plays in the background, enhancing the atmosphere of luxury and decadence. Guests mill about, their conversations a low murmur that adds to the air of exclusivity. Most of the attendees are men dressed in tailored suits, their eyes scanning the room with a mix of curiosity and predatory interest. Scantily clad women accompany them, their laughter ringing out like the tinkling of glass.
I’d sent Dax our coordinates before I climbed out of the car. He has a team stationed back at the village, should they be needed.
If all goes well, they won’t be.
“Probably a shell corp.”
Meaning, there’s no way to trace it back to whoever is behind this sick sense of entertainment.
Grayson leads the way, his confidence unwavering as he navigates through the crowd with pretentious swagger. Riley stays close, her hand delicately resting on his arm, her eyes taking in the surroundings with feigned disinterest. She plays her role perfectly, the epitome of a woman who knows her place in this world of wealth and power. Logan and I flank them, our eyes constantly scanning for any sign of trouble, our presence a silent warning to anyone who might think of crossing our path.
As we move deeper into the lodge, we pass through a set of heavy wooden doors into the main hall. This room is even more lavish, with rich draperies lining the walls and an elaborate stage at the far end. Tables covered in fine linens and adorned with crystal centerpieces fill the space, each occupied by men sipping expensive drinks and engaging in hushed conversations. The scent of expensive cigars and perfume hangs in the air, creating a heady mix that only adds to the sense of indulgence.
Grayson beelines for a vacant table near the front, a prime spot with an excellent view of the stage. He pulls out a chair for Riley, who sits with practiced grace, her eyes subtly scanning for any familiar faces. Logan and I take our positions behind them, our gazes sweeping over the room, noting exits and potential threats.
“There are more people here than I thought there would be,” Logan says in a low voice, ensuring it doesn’t carry to the nearby tables.
My hard gaze skims over them regardless, ensuring no one is paying us any attention.
“Pretty sure I just saw Senator Torrence over there,” Grayson disguises behind his hand as he shifts closer to Riley. One arm goes across the back of her chair as his other lands on her exposed thigh. “Get us drinks,” he orders in an arrogant tone that fits perfectly with this place. “A martini for the lady, and I’ll take a whiskey.”
“Coming right up, sir, ” Logan drawls before casting me a look that says he’s already had enough of this performance before heading toward a bar at the back of the room.
“How long until…” Riley gestures toward the stage.
“Probably not long. They’ll want to give everyone time to arrive and have a drink or two, but they won’t want to wait too long and risk exposure,” I tell her, keeping my face impassive and attention on the goings on in the room.
“You’re doing great,” Grayson assures her. “Just keep your focus on me. That can’t be too much of a hardship.”
I barely restrain my eye roll, my lips twitching ever so slightly when Riley doesn’t bother to smother her snort.
Grayson’s hand moves from the back of her chair, sliding into her hair and holding her captive as he nips at her jaw, working his way along it to her lips. I know it’s mostly for show, but I don’t pull my gaze away as I watch her reaction to every one of his touches—notably, the heat that builds in her eyes, how her skin flushes beneath his touch, and her breaths grow shallow.
Oh yeah, Riley might protest there being anything between them, but there is no denying that chemistry.
A presence appears out of nowhere, dropping into one of the empty seats at the large, round table and forcing them apart as we all stare at the unwelcome newcomer.
“Haven’t seen you at one of these before?” the man drawls, eyeing Grayson before his gaze flits to Riley, and a salacious grin brightens his otherwise hard face. He looks as though he’s not much older than us—late twenties to early thirties—and is as crisply dressed as Grayson. Unlike Grayson, though, he doesn’t appear to have any security. Although, I have noticed that plenty of others do.
Leaning closer to Riley, he purrs, “I’d definitely remember if I’d seen you before. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Since she’s here with me tonight, her name is none of your concern,” Grayson retorts in a manner that says he’s bored with the entire conversation.
Unperturbed, the newcomer simply smirks. “I see how it is.”
Logan chooses that moment to return with their drinks. Sending me a who the fuck is this arch of his brow as he sets them down on the table.
I shrug a no fucking clue in response.
“So, first time?” the newcomer enquires.
“What did you say your name was?” Grayson turns the conversation back on him as he glares suspiciously.
Taking a sip of the whiskey he brought, he smirks at Grayson over the top of the glass. “Didn’t give you a name.”
“I’m bored,” Riley whines, leaning into Grayson and stretching so she can bring her lips to his ear. Loud enough for the rest of the table to hear, she says, “Want to take me to the coat closet and fuck me?”
Holy shit . There is no way I’m the only one at the table who got an immediate boner.
Although if new-guy’s dick so much as twitched, he’ll be going home without it.
I don’t dare take my eyes off him as he studies Riley and Grayson, that playboy smirk of his firmly in place.
“Mm,” Grayson hums, sliding his hand to the back of Riley’s head and dragging her mouth to his for a hot and dirty kiss. “That does sound like a lot more fun.”
“I wouldn’t go running off,” the newcomer states, finishing his drink and setting it on the table. “The auction will be starting soon.” Getting to his feet, he rakes his eyes over Grayson, and there’s an astuteness in his gaze that I don’t like. Just as I’m about to step forward and tell him to beat it, he glances at Riley, offering her one of those signature smirks before he ducks his head. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“Douchebag,” Logan hisses when he’s out of earshot.
Riley sinks back into her seat, shoulders dropping as she takes a large sip of her martini.
“Please tell me not everyone is going to scrutinize us being here tonight.”
“I’m sure he’s not the only one who will be interested in potential new players on the field,” I murmur.
“Great.”
Thankfully, the room lights dim a moment later, and spotlights illuminate the stage as a man steps onto it. His voice is smooth and commanding as he looks around the room, welcoming everyone. “We have an extraordinary lineup for you this evening.” His twitchy eyes practically dance with cold excitement, his slimy mouth curling into a vile smile that sends a noticeable shiver through Riley.
He quickly explains the rules and how to bid before ushering out the first princess of the night. “First up this evening is Belle ,” he announces as a ball of yellow is dragged onto the stage by a mountain of a man with dead eyes. Her straw-colored hair covers her face as she stands on trembling legs and bare feet. Before the bidding begins, the auctioneer rhymes off the facts available in the online private room. The entire ordeal is beyond sickening, and as the little girl is dragged off the stage, putting up zero fight, I realize we can’t walk out of here with Aurora and leave the others behind.
It hadn’t crossed my mind before. My focus was solely on getting Aurora. Even so, none of these kids deserve the fate they are being marched toward. If we could buy every single kid, we’d do it in a heartbeat, but not only would that draw too much attention, it would cost more than all of us have.
“Dax,” I murmur into the earpiece, barely moving my lips.
“I know, Royce.” His tone is bleak. “We’re not leaving any of them behind. Focus on Aurora. I’ll get the rest. I’ve got a safe house and a doctor set up and waiting for them.”
The anvil that had been sitting on my chest lifts.
I do my best to detach myself from the situation as girl after girl, ranging in age from as young as three to preteens, is marched onto the stage. Some are forced to curtsy or twirl, while others merely stand there. Most keep their heads down, faces obscured, but occasionally, a spitfire of a kid emerges, and the excitement that strums through the crowd has my stomach revolting.
Dropping my gaze, Riley’s hand is white as she tightens it around Grayson’s arm beneath the table. However, none of her disgust is portrayed on her face as she astutely watches the stage as though memorizing every kid’s features before they disappear from wherever they came.
I strain to listen as she leans closer to Grayson. “Ariel must be next. All the other princesses have gone.” My spine straightens, and I share a look with Logan, a brief nod before our focus returns to the stage as a little girl in a sea-blue dress is hauled out.
“Our final princess of the night is the fiery-tempered, red-headed Ariel,” the auctioneer announces as the little girl is shoved into the spotlight. Head down, her hair covers her face.
Come on, sweetheart, I urge. Lift your head.
Feet planted, she stares steadfastly at her toes as the announcer runs through her stats.
“Give us a wave, Ariel,” the announcer encourages, crossing the stage to coax her forward. He pulls on her hair when she doesn’t obey, forcing her head up as she yelps.
My nails dig into my palms, except as I take in her tear-streaked face…
“It’s not her.” Riley’s voice cracks over the words, the mask she has perfected tonight crumbling as she ducks her head and closes her eyes.
Fuck.
Fuck.
It’s not her. How the hell is it not her?
“I’m sorry, man,” Dax says in my ear, making me realize I said that aloud. “We’ll find her. She’s the last kid tonight. You’ve got five minutes to get out.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask as I watch Ariel being ushered off the stage.
“Better you don’t know. Just get to your car and don’t look back no matter what.”
Catching Grayson’s gaze, I gesture for us to leave. He pulls Riley into his arms, and Logan and I follow as we move through the lively crowd. Many are celebrating their new possessions , while others are simply enjoying the adrenaline rush that seemingly comes from participating in this sort of debauchery.
As we leave the auction room, my eyes lock on a set of familiar ones—the guy who made himself at home at our table earlier. Still smirking like a smarmy tool, he lifts a fresh glass of whiskey in salute before I rip my gaze away and follow the others out of the room. Thankfully, we make it across the lobby uninterrupted.
The fresh air hits my face as we step outside, careful not to appear as though we are rushing as we descend the steps toward the car. Catching the valet’s eye, I lift my chin, and he hustles to grab the car keys, tossing them to me when I walk by. Just like I asked, the car is parked close to the entrance, and with eyes on us, Logan moves around Grayson to open the backseat door while I climb in behind the wheel. Riley hurries into the car, her makeup smeared and eyes red-rimmed as Grayson joins her. My foot is on the accelerator before Logan even has his door closed, and gravel kicks up as I shoot down the long driveway. I slow only long enough for the guards to open the gate before I slip through the gap.
“Stop,” Logan barks as soon as we’re out of sight of the gates. “Fucking stop,” he snarls when I don’t do it fast enough. Slamming on the brakes, the car is still coming to a stop when he shoves open his door and climbs into the backseat. He bundles Riley into his arms, and her sobs serve as the soundtrack of our failure as we tear away from the lodge.
The SUV’s headlights carve a path through the expanding darkness. As I navigate the narrow, twisted mountain road, the adrenaline coursing through me makes every shadow seem like a potential threat. That is until the night sky lights up as if the sun itself has burst from the earth. It’s followed a moment later by a deafening explosion behind us.
Easing my foot off the accelerator, I steal a glance in the rearview mirror, my heart pounding. The blast radiates a fiery glow and the lodge, once a distant silhouette, is now a blazing inferno.
“Shit!” Grayson mutters, his eyes wide as he twists to look out the back of the SUV. “What the fuck was that?”
Dax .
Flooring it, the SUV roars as it emerges from a tight bend, and we speed through the next curve and the next, the entire way down the mountain until there’s nothing but open roads leading home.