13. A Dance of Danger and Desire
Chapter thirteen
A Dance of Danger and Desire
E melia
Lucas and I huddled over the city map spread across the coffee table. The urgency to find Claydon was palpable in the air.
"Lucas, we're running out of options. We need real intel on where Bruno will be tomorrow," I stated, my voice strained with frustration.
Lucas paused, deep in thought. Then, a spark of determination lit up his eyes. "There's one place we could try," he said. "Bruno’s favorite haunt—an underground fight club. It's risky, but we might find someone there who knows where Claydon is."
I felt a rush of adrenaline at the idea. "Let's do it. But I'm coming with you."
Lucas shook his head, his expression resolute. "I’d rather you didn’t. I’ll feel more comfortable if I knew you were here safe.”
I stood up. “I’m coming with you.”
When Lucas saw I wasn’t backing down, he got to his feet. “Alright, okay, but we’ll need to fit in. I'll go grab us some outfits."
An hour later, Lucas returned, carrying a bag. He pulled out a sleek black dress, gorgeous red two inch heels for me, and a red head pageboy wig. "This should help you blend in, yet stand out just enough," he said.
I examined the outfit, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through me. "And you? What's your disguise?"
Lucas revealed his own outfit—dark jeans, a fitted black shirt, a leather jacket, and a pair of sunglasses.
"I’ll pull my hair back so it’s sleek and use a trimmed mustache. We'll be the perfect pair for this," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips.
We changed with the dress and wig transforming my appearance. Lucas looked me over and nodded approvingly. "Perfect. Let's head out."
Fifteen minutes later, the pulsating music vibrated through my body as we descended the grimy steps into the crowded basement space.
The air was choked with smoke and the metallic tang of blood blended with the stench of booze and sweat.
Lucas’ hand on my lower back guided me through the jeering, shouting mass of bodies pressed up against the makeshift cage in the center.
Two men inside pounded on each other ruthlessly, their grunts audible between the death metal songs blaring from blown-out speakers.
I tucked my hair behind one ear nervously. The wig and form-fitting black dress made me feel dangerously exposed in this brutal environment.
Lucas seemed to sense my uncertainty. Leaning close, his warm breath tickled my ear. "You've got this, Lucy. Just stick to the plan. I'm right here with you."
Hearing my undercover name and feeling Lucas’ solid presence beside me instantly grounded me.
I reminded myself we were here for Claydon. Taking a deep breath, I transformed into my character—an edgy thrill-seeker looking for trouble.
Strutting ahead of Lucas, I caught the eye of a bald bouncer, his muscular arms crossed, staring impassively into the cage where one fighter now had the other in a chokehold. The crowd was going wild.
"Who do I talk to about placing a bet?" I asked boldly, flashing the bouncer a coy smile. He eyed me up and down, his eyes lingering appreciatively on my very exposed cleavage, which by the way, I’d stuffed to look much bigger, before pointing toward a door guarded by another thick-necked brute.
I made my way through the horde with Lucas close behind, projecting menacing confidence in a leather jacket that hugged his fit frame.
At the door, I repeated my request with a flirtatious wink. Dollar bills earned us access to the VIP lounge.
Inside, the pulsing music was muted, allowing space for conversation and business.
The cigarette smoke and stench of risk still permeated the air.
“There. That’s Marco,” Lucas whispered to me, “at the bar.”
I looked over at the hawk-faced man Lucas had told me was our target—Bruno Geller’s right-hand man.
Marco was deep in discussion with another suited figure.
Lucas and I bellied up to the bar and ordered drinks. I maneuvered into Marco's line of sight, laughing too loudly at Lucas’ remarks while subtly eyeing Marco. His companion departed, and Marco took the bait.
"Well hello, gorgeous. Marco's the name." He flashed gold caps on his teeth. "Haven't seen you around here before. Looking for some excitement?"
I giggled, leaning into his space. If anyone could tell us where Bruno was holding Claydon, it’d be Marco.
Flirting was my way in, but it turned my stomach. I focused on the greater good.
"Something like that, if you're up for it," I purred, tracing a finger down his chest. "I like danger, Marco. The wilder, the better."
Marco's grin widened. Meanwhile, Lucas played it cool, radiating menace with his possessive arm around me and brooding stare.
Marco's expression wavered slightly—he wasn't as bold with Lucas looming.
"Why don't we discuss this somewhere more... private?" Marco suggested. I knew he was interested now. The hook was set.
I pretended to consider, then shrugged as if I didn't care either way. "Sure, lead the way."
He took us to a back room guarded by another imposing minder who let Marco pass.
The room was dimly lit, with a couch and chairs around a low table. The heavy door shut, enclosing us in windowless seclusion. My adrenaline spiked, but I stayed in character.
Marco went straight for the mini bar as Lucas and I made ourselves comfortable on the couch. "Your girl's got quite an appetite for risk, eh?" Marco addressed Lucas, whose jaw tightened.
"She likes to live... dangerously," Lucas replied coldly. "So do I."
Marco chuckled. "A kindred spirit! I think we'll get along." He handed us drinks and raised his glass. "To new friends."
We touched glasses and drank. Marco settled next to me, his proximity making my skin crawl. But I forced myself to shift closer with exaggerated interest. His hand landed on my leg.
"Tell me Marco, what's the most thrilling thing you've ever done?" I asked. "I want to know if you can keep up with me..."
As Marco described reckless exploits, I steered the conversation. Lucas chimed in occasionally with dark humor.
We were playing Marco perfectly, subtly pumping him for information.
I let him run his hand over one thigh and leaned close to his ear. “You know sometimes I like them young. Got any boys for me?”
Marco looked at me as though I was weird, which of course, duh. He shrugged, “Nah, you really are wild. How young we talking about?”
Forcing myself not to gag, I smiled. “The younger the better. Let’s say ten and below.”
Marcos stared at me, then shook his head. “We do have one boy. Good looking even. After this deal, would have thrown him into the Hudson.” He gestured to Lucas, who was white as a sheet but stayed quiet.
He leaned close and pulled my helm up. “Young ones ain’t for me, but I do like it both ways, so if you and handsome right here can give me an unforgettable night, I could work it so the boy is yours.”
I forced the smile to stay on and turned to Lucas. He nodded.
I ran a finger down Marcus’s chest, pushing his shirt aside. “You have a room around here?”
Marcus smiled widely and walked to the bar to fill his glass.
Lucas leaned toward me and nibbled my neck. Marcus smiled at that. When he turned to pour his drink, Lucas whispered, “I just need us to get him somewhere alone. I’ll make him tell us where Claydon is. I won’t let him touch you, Em. I promise.”
I nodded, fully trusting Lucas not to let this situation get out of control.
Marcus returned to where we were sitting and I slid to his side.
“That room ready yet?”
But suddenly voices and footsteps sounded right outside the room. Marco froze, his swagger evaporating.
Before we could react, the door burst open and two men dragged in a handcuffed fighter from the cage, his face bloody and swollen.
"Boss wants to make an example of him," one said. Dread flooded my gut. Our plan had been compromised! Marco would not be here long enough to give us the information we wanted.
Marco regained his composure quickly. "Sorry folks, business calls." He turned to Lucas and me with a serious look. "We'll have to continue this another time."
It was clearly a dismissal. We had no choice but to go along. Lucas helped me to my feet, playing the gallant boyfriend. We kept up appearances of disappointment at the interruption as we were escorted out.
As the cool night air in the grimy street hit my face, I couldn’t hold back any longer and turned to the side of the building, throwing up from the pit of my stomach.
Lucas held my hair back and rubbed my back until I was done. He handed me a bottle of water, which I downed in relief.
“That was the most disgusting thing I have ever done in my life. I would have preferred to just torture the information out of the man.”
Lucas pulled me into his arms. “I’m sorry I did that to you. I promise not to put you in that kind of position again. The worst part is that the plan didn’t even work.”
We entered the car, and sat in the darkness. Lucas’ jaw was clenched.
“What now?”
He peeled off his mustache. “We don’t give up."
My nerves still jangling, I nodded. We'd have to find another way to Bruno and Claydon.
I still felt a lingering creepiness from the whole encounter but forced myself to focus as Lucas drove us back to the apartment.
Our covers hadn't been blown, but we were no closer to finding Claydon.
"Bruno must keep location details compartmentalized," Lucas muttered, breaking into my thoughts. He sounded like he was almost talking to himself “We'll have to go higher up the chain." His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. Time was running out for his son.
Pushing aside my own feelings, I placed my hand over his in reassurance. "We'll find him. There must be some cookie crumbs somewhere." My mind turned over angles we could exploit.
Damn Bruno and his watertight operation. But we would rip a hole in it somehow.
Once at the apartment, I immediately peeled off the stilettos and skintight dress, took a very hot shower with the strongest aromatic soap I had, then changed into jeans and a hoodie.
Lucas’ tension was palpable as he clicked through surveillance camera feeds from Bruno’s.
"Let's review what we know so far," I suggested gently. "Maybe we’ll find something we can use."
Lucas dragged a hand through his hair but nodded. We compiled all the intel onto the motel stationary, searching for gaps.
One name kept resurfacing: Gregory Walsh, Bruno’s lawyer who handled all legalities for his trafficking ring.
"If anyone aside from Marcus would know where the kid is, it’ll be Walsh," Lucas said. "But we can't risk direct contact. It's too dangerous."
I considered this. "What about an anonymous tip about an impending police raid? It could flush out an email, a phone call with location details."
Lucas’ expression turned thoughtful. "That could work. I still have contacts at the station who can help fabricate evidence." A plan was taking shape.
Over the next couple of hours, we orchestrated an intricate ruse using Lucas’ sources.
I created burner email accounts while Lucas spoofed recordings. The pieces fell into place.
Soon, Walsh received seemingly credible information about an NYPD investigation into his dealings with Bruno and a possible kidnapping of a minor.
We intercepted frantic calls between them, trying to get Claydon moved preemptively.
Lucas was able to trace one call to a compound upstate. "That could be it," he breathed. My heart leaped with hope for him. We were closing in despite the danger.
We knew Walsh would be paranoid about raids, so the next phase was riskier.
Using a burner phone, Lucas made the call to Walsh posing as a crooked NYPD sergeant.
"Mr. Walsh, I believe we have a situation that could mutually benefit us both," Lucas said in a gruff, authoritative voice.
"Who’s this?" Walsh replied cautiously.
"Sergeant Mike O'Reilly. I have intel about a planned raid on one of Bruno’s locations. The kid he's holding—I can get him out before the shit hits the fan, for the right price."
There was silence on the line before Walsh responded slowly. "A raid would be... inconvenient timing. Bruno prefers the boy's status be kept discrete."
"Exactly. So do you want my help or not? Clock's ticking, counselor. Make me an offer or take your chances, but this raid will go ahead as scheduled."
More tense silence. I held my breath, watching Lucas’ face. Finally, Walsh spoke.
"50 grand. I'll send details about the boy’s location and where to drop him off at."
Lucas allowed himself a thin smile. "Make it 60 grand and you got a deal.”
“I'll be in touch." He ended the call.
The next few minutes were agonizing as we waited to see if Walsh would take the bait.
But our confidence was we knew Walsh was now a desperate man. He had everything to lose if there was a raid and his name was connected to anything that was discovered.
Lucas kept circling the block around Walsh's law firm, waiting for him to appear.
Finally, Walsh emerged, talking heatedly on his cell phone. A short time later, Lucas’ burner phone pinged with an encrypted message containing coordinates, a photo of Claydon, and instructions for payment.
We both sagged with relief. This could be our chance to grab him. The hook was set. Now we just had to reel Claydon safely back.
We spent the rest of the night observing the remote compound. We were discreet but agreed we’d pretend to be lost if anyone asked.
As Lucas and I reviewed the extraction plan, going over roles and contingencies again, some of my old doubts about trusting Lucas resurfaced briefly.
I’d already put so much on the line for Lucas. If the authorities ever identified us, I’d be wanted as an accomplice before the facts, at the least.
There was no way I’d be able to prove I didn’t know anything about the heist at the auction house.
Now, with this extraction, I could very well lose my life before I ever found out who killed my father.
Lucas sensed my hesitation.
"What is it, babe?" he asked. I didn’t know how to air my thoughts. Lucas squeezed my hand, seeming to understand. "You don't have to do this, you know. It's my fight, not yours."
I shook my head, but my doubts must have still shown on my face. Lucas took my hands, waiting patiently for me to confess what was bothering me.
"I just... This is all still so new," I admitted. "Trust doesn't come easily for me. Everyone I've cared about has either died or betrayed me. And with you, there’s always some new layer unfolding. After your son, then what, Lucas? What new surprise with unfold?"
Lucas’ expression softened with understanding. "You've been hurt too many times. I know this is asking a lot, with the stakes so high. Believe me, Evelyn, and I mean it, you can walk away right now and I’ll understand. When Claydon’s safe, I’ll come find you and we’ll finish what we started concerning your father."
I shook my head. "No," I squeezed his hands. "I- somehow I feel I need to do this. I want to do this, to save Claydon. I just can't silence that small voice warning me that I might get burned again."
Lucas pulled me close. "I would never intentionally hurt you, Emelia. I've made mistakes, but you can trust me with your life. We're in this together now."
His steady gaze was open, honest. My doubts receded. Lucas had proven himself over and over. If I couldn't trust him after all we'd endured, what hope was there?
"Okay," I said, resolute. "Let's do this." Lucas kissed my forehead in wordless gratitude. My old wounds made me cautious, but fear wouldn't hold me back any longer. With Lucas, I would tread carefully, but I was ready to take that leap of faith.
We waited to make our move. Right on time, a supply truck delivering to the compound rolled up the road.
Lucas jumped onto the step and took out the driver through the window. He pulled the door open and I jumped in, hiding at the back while Lucas replaced him, pulling on his company jacket and cap. My nerves jittered, but I was ready.
Every other attempt to get Claydon back had backfired. This time we had to get it right.
At the gate, Lucas passed the hacked codes. Once inside, he followed the guard's directions to the supply depot, both of us trying to look around for Claydon, but not too obviously.
We began to slowly unload boxes, trying not to draw suspicion, then, as soon as he could, Lucas discretely slipped away to search for Claydon.
Thankfully, it was the graveyard shift and there were very few people around.
After 15 agonizing minutes with no sign of Claydon, Lucas jumped back in the truck, muttering, "I couldn’t find Claydon. What am I missing here?" Once out of sight, he showed me his tablet, hands shaking with anger.
"Bruno or Walsh played us. Look at these files—maybe he deliberately leaked false information to set a trap."
As I scrolled through the data, the reality hit me—it was possible we'd been manipulated into coming here. Claydon was still out there, in danger.
Lucas was barely keeping it together. "When I get my hands on Walsh, I'll..." He trailed off, face twisted in fury and despair.
Just then, the alarm went off. We’d been figured out.
I grasped Lucas’ arm. "We'll find Claydon. But first we need to get out of here." He nodded tightly. Escape now, vengeance later.
Several men with guns were running toward us. Lucas put his full weight on the accelerator and drove ‘as the crow flies’ through everything until we were out of the gate.
We ditched the truck outside the compound amidst chaotic alarms sounding from inside the walls.
We had hidden our car in a shallow ditch behind some bushes. We jumped in, and Lucas drove us further into the bushes, then to my surprise, he killed the car.
“What are you doing? We have to get away from here.”
But instead, Lucas turned to me with a sudden suspicion that cut me deeply.
"Those files were too convenient. The only way Bruno could have known my next moves is if someone close to me tipped him off..." His meaning was clear.
"Who would kno-” Sudden realization washed over me. "Lucas, no!" I cried, "I would never do that, you know where my loyalty lies!"
Lucas seemed to war with himself. Finally his shoulders slumped. "You're right, forgive me. We need to stick together if we're getting out of this alive."
Relief flooded me. Lucas had come to his senses about my loyalty—for now at least.
“I have to go back in and look around some more for Claydon,” Lucas said through gritted teeth. “Those files were leaked deliberately to trick me, so I’m going to let them think it worked. Bruno knew we’d escape once we realized it was a setup. If that’s true, it’s possible he’s keeping Claydon somewhere on site.”
My pulse spiked at the realization that what Lucas was saying made perfect, awful sense. Bruno had figured out that we weren’t really the cops and had manipulated us completely.
I protested. “You’ll be walking right into their trap.”
Lucas’ jaw was set. “I don’t have a choice. Stay here, I’m getting my son.”
Before I could argue further, Lucas jumped out and sprinted back to the compound, keeping to the shadows.
Cursing under my breath, I grabbed my gun and went after him. Like hell was I waiting helplessly in the car while Lucas risked his life alone.
I trailed him stealthily as he approached a northern section of the premises. I held my breath until he disappeared behind a crate.
Hugging the wall, I crept toward the same section, wary for patrols. None came.
The silence of the compound was eerie, almost like the calm before a storm. Shouldn’t the men who chased after us be securing the perimeter?
A prickle of unease traveled down my spine but I flattened my body against crates and hurried in the direction Lucas had just gone. Lucas needed me to watch his back.
Inside, I tracked Lucas’ path toward the smaller outbuildings based on our original schematics.
He cleared each one swiftly before approaching a nondescript warehouse structure.
My heart leapt when I saw him pick the lock and slip inside. The premises was very large, and Lucas likely hadn’t had the time to check this part earlier. I hoped Claydon was in there.
I darted forward and peered through the dirty window. Sure enough, Lucas was already at work on the interior door lock with single-minded focus. Moments later, he pulled it open and rushed in.
My pulse roared in my ears as I heard Lucas call his son’s name.
He had found his son against all odds, and they would be walking out together any second.
Overwhelmed with relief, I straightened up, set to run in their direction, when suddenly a beefy arm wrapped around my neck from behind.
I reacted on pure survival instinct, stomping down hard and spinning to face my attacker. But he was ready, pistol aimed square at my chest.
“Not so fast, sweet’art,” he growled. “The boss wants a word with you.”
I froze, mind racing. I could try to disarm him, but not before he fired.
Locking eyes with his smug expression, I let him grab my weapon and cuff my hands behind my back. I had no choice but to let him march me toward the warehouse entrance.
We were halfway there when I glanced back and saw Lucas emerge, Claydon in his arms. He skidded to a stop at the sight of me held hostage, the color draining from his face.
He took a half-step forward before freezing again as my captor jammed the gun against my ribcage, his back still turned to Lucas.
I shook my head, warning Lucas off with my eyes. Getting Claydon to safety was all that mattered now.
Lucas’ torment was clear as he wavered, desperate to save me yet unwilling to risk his son further. I shook my head more firmly this time, careful to remain discreet.
My captor dragged me backwards through the door. As it slammed shut between us, Lucas’ anguished face was the last thing I saw before being enveloped by darkness.
I had sacrificed my freedom so Lucas and Claydon could escape. Only the hope of seeing them again kept sheer terror at bay as I was shoved down a flight of concrete stairs to face my fate.
At the end of the stairs, we turned into a very large, well-furnished office. Sitting at a large oak table was Bruno, his beady eyes running up and down my body as though I were grilled steak.
“Well, well, well, look at that. Evelyn Price herself. Having you is the next best thing to having the original painting.”