FATAL TURN

SKY STRYKER SERIES: BOOK SEVEN

MARY STONE

BELLA CROSS

Copyright © 2024 by Mary Stone Publishing

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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To all the survivors out there⁠—

This story is a tribute to your fight, your survival, and your refusal to be defined by what happened to you. Your strength inspires more than you know.

DESCRIPTION

Beauty is fleeting. But art—and death—is forever.

Since moving to Manhattan nearly a year ago, Sky Stryker has learned one unsettling truth: the fashion world thrives on beauty—and buries its secrets. Too many models have vanished, their lifeless bodies discovered like discarded props. Sky’s relentless pursuit to expose the industry’s darkest corners earned her a publishing contract, but it also painted a target on her back. Now a new story has landed in her inbox.

A horror story.

The professional video of a masked man tormenting a prominent model is as graphic as it is shocking. Is it staged kinky role-play? Or is it real? Fake or not, it wasn’t sent to Sky by accident. It's a warning.

And it’s about to become personal.

As more disturbing videos flood her inbox, each darker and more grotesque than the last, Sky realizes the masked filmmaker has an agenda—and she’s part of it. If Sky and her friends can’t identify him in time, the next video won’t just be a nightmare. It will be a death sentence.

Fatal Turn is the seventh book in the Sky Stryker series by best-selling author Mary Stone. When someone offers to change your life, beware. The cost may be more than you can imagine.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Dearest Reader,

This story explores the darker facets of human nature and the depths of evil that can lurk behind closed doors. Within these pages are brief depictions of violence, psychological torment, and moments that imply sexual assault. These elements are not included lightly; they reflect the harsh realities faced by many and the resilience required to confront them. However, these depictions are not explicit and have been handled with care and sensitivity.

I’m a firm believer that facing the darkness—our triggers—can sometimes lead us to the light. But I also know this might not be everyone’s way, and that’s okay. If these themes are difficult for you, please take care of yourself and know that your well-being comes first.

Thank you for joining me on this journey. I hope you find strength in the courage of the characters who face the darkness head-on.

With much love,

Mary

1

Days blurred into a hazy, nightmarish stretch as Kelsey Vinn struggled to remember how long she’d spent trapped in this awful, stench-ridden warehouse. Moments of solitude, few and far between, were a coveted respite from the utter hell that ensued when he was around.

Kelsey couldn’t see his face. The red leather mask—cut and sewn into the shape of a human skull—covered all but his eyes, his mouth, and the bridge of his nose. She’d wondered at first if more than one man wore that mask while taking a turn torturing her.

But the voice. That sadistic, snarling voice remained the same.

She’d recognize his voice anywhere. And assuming she ever left this godforsaken place, she’d hear the guttural rasp until the day she died.

Although every inch of her body burned as if dipped in the raging flames of hell, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. The cat-o’-nine-tails had exacted its torment, leaving her agonized and broken.

Kelsey would have done anything—absolutely anything—to make the whipping stop. 

But this time, he did stop. Why?

She struggled to force her memory back through the last few days. Each time the masked bastard dragged her to his demonic play place, he tormented her to the point of blacking out. And every time she regained consciousness, she’d already been returned to the floor of this holding cell of a room. 

Except this time.

She’d screamed herself hoarse during his latest perversions. Barely holding on to consciousness and with no hope of reprieve, she’d gone limp. The white flag moment had gotten the masked man’s attention. 

He’d growled in anger, mumbling something about needing to take it to the next level. And then, like a child grown tired of his toy, he’d tossed her back into the cold, dark cell of a room as though she were nothing more than a rag doll.

There she remained, crumpled and naked, just a tattered, fleshy heap on the concrete floor of her personal prison. 

But I was awake. He threw me back in here awake.

Where here was, Kelsey couldn’t tell. Her final memories before waking in this place had been filled with techno music, flashing lights, and way too much alcohol. 

Her excellent performance walking the runway earlier that night was well worth the celebration. But if she’d known her success would result in this, she’d never have thrown caution to the wind. 

“Live a little.” That was what the other models had told her.

She grimaced at the thought. Working as a model in Manhattan was living large compared to where she’d come from. Small-town girl with big-town dreams. How cliché. Now, just as her mama had warned her, she’d fallen prey to a depraved man.

Kelsey could just picture the disappointment in her mother’s eyes. The woman had always said the city would corrupt and abuse her.

“Get a real job. Do something important with your life. Beauty is fleeting.” 

What did her mother know? 

Only everything, as it turned out. Kelsey’s beauty now hid beneath swollen eyes, cracked lips, and bruised skin.

The chill of the concrete floor embraced her, promising to soothe the fire of her recent whipping, but Kelsey fought to rise. If she stayed down much longer, her muscles might just quit on her for good. 

Was it night? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the sun. Sometimes, a thin ribbon of light bled through the gap at the bottom of the door, but not now. 

By this point, no sound had echoed through the building for a while. Maybe the masked man had gone home. 

If Kelsey stood any chance of finding a way out of this place, she had to take this opportunity now. 

Using the wall as her support, she put one bare foot in front of the other. Her battered legs protested each step as, inch by painful inch, Kelsey felt her way along the cracked and peeling paint until her hand met the smooth metal of the door handle. 

Holding her breath, she pressed down on the lever. The door opened with a creak that shouted through the darkness. 

She ducked backward, cowering against the wall, as if the sound might somehow strike her. 

Anyone in the building would have heard that reverberant, metallic grating. She let the wall hold her up, her courage slowly returning as the seconds ticked by in calm silence. 

Heart still racing, she yanked the door all the way open. 

Hinges groaned. She waited again. 

Nothing. No one is here.

Kelsey steeled herself and crossed the threshold. 

On the other side of the door, a flickering exit sign cast an eerie glow over a small hallway. Three additional doors stood in front of her. Three choices. 

Which way?

An alarm warning on the crash bar of the middle door beneath the exit sign gave her pause. 

Kelsey’s legs trembled. She didn’t think she could get away in time if an alarm went off. Though she hadn’t heard anyone so far, a part of her didn’t trust the silence. Someone might still hear her escape.

She had to find another way out. One that could give her enough of a head start if the masked man lurked close by. 

He must have planned some trap for her in case she left her cell. That would explain why he hadn’t bothered locking the door—he had no reason to worry. Even if she could escape, would anyone help a filthy, nude, insane-looking woman running toward them? Or would they flee in the opposite direction?

Still, it was freedom or⁠—

No. She couldn’t think of that. Every second she didn’t try to get out was another second wasted. She had to choose the door on the left or right and hope for the best.

Door number three it is. 

Kelsey crossed the hallway and passed the exit sign, stopping in front of the door on the right. She pressed the handle. 

Another creak and groan announced her entrance. But unlike in the shadowy corridor, natural light streamed into this room through a small window. As if someone—the masked man, perhaps—had wanted some fresh air, the sash stood open above a computer desk, where a sleek monitor reigned over a surface cluttered with filming equipment. No other doors led out of the cramped space.

But Kelsey didn’t need another exit. She’d spotted her escape route.

Moonlight. Freedom.

Despite its small size, Kelsey knew she could squeeze through that window. She’d done something similar plenty of times back at her parents’ home, shimmying through the dog door at the back of her house on the many occasions she’d stayed out past curfew. After getting up on the desk, she could dive on through. 

Hope gave her muscles renewed strength. Climbing onto the desk, she didn’t let herself think of anything else as she tiptoed around camera lenses and charging cables. No going back now. Only moving forward. She pushed open the window sash as far as it would go. 

Jumping up, she scraped her lower ribs on the frame. Holding in a hiss of pain, she caught her breath and tipped forward.

With a slide and a thud, she tumbled outside.

Some of the torture sessions had left Kelsey so broken, she’d retreated into hallucinations. No food and little sleep had her seeing things that weren’t there. She’d stopped trusting her senses, except the ones that hurt. But though she didn’t realize it for a moment, the crisp bite of cold wind across her skin told her this was real.

This…this is reality.

Kelsey peered around in the darkness, unsure of which way she should go.

Clarity of the night sky indicated a lack of light pollution, putting her far from the city. Rushing water babbled in the distance—a nearby river. Not visible through the thick trees surrounding the building, but close enough to hear.

Though Kelsey had no wilderness experience, she also had no choice but to move forward. She would just have to trust her instinct to find the river.

It’ll be over soon.

Lumbering forward with only the moonlight to guide her, Kelsey winced at sharp twigs and stones biting into the tender soles of her feet. Though she heard the water, the noise level remained the same with each step deeper into the dense forest, so that she couldn’t tell whether she was getting closer or farther away. 

Overhead, the canopy of tree branches blocked out the guiding moonlight. 

Kelsey stopped and turned around, trying to determine the best direction. Fresh welts covering her body, previously smoothed and flattened against the cold concrete floor, resumed shrieking in agony.

Running would send the blood pumping double-time through her system, the rush of circulation inflaming every injury, leaving her one throbbing mass of pain.

Stopping was a bad move. I can’t stop. I can’t think. I have to get out of here. Even if I run into the river and drown, it’s better than another session with him.

Spinning once more to find her direction, Kelsey caught the loud snap of a twig. 

Shit.

Her heart plummeted.

Had it come from behind her or in front? 

One thing was certain. She had to keep going.

Throwing caution to the wind, Kelsey continued in the direction she’d originally chosen, praying she was on the right path. Staggering through the scant light, beseeching her weary limbs to move faster, she stumbled along the uneven forest floor.

But one bad step on an exposed tree root sent her tumbling. Though she put her hands out to stop her fall, her weakened arms couldn’t take her weight. She face-planted hard in the damp earth. 

Her abused body threatened mutiny at the idea of going on. Mouth filled with dirt, Kelsey struggled to pull air into her lungs. She gagged and sputtered, each heaving breath tugging at the fresh scabs on her back. Striving to push herself up, she whimpered as her arms buckled.

I’m so close.

With a Herculean heave, Kelsey shoved herself up onto her hands and knees.

“Good little girl. Already in the proper position.”

Those sinister words whispered through the barren oaks on the back of the masked man’s menacing laugh.

No. It’s not him. He would never let me get this far. I’m imagining things again. Run. Go.

Digging her toes in, she propelled herself upward and forward. After a few lurching steps, she fell into a rhythm of spotting the next safe place to step and taking placing her foot down. Then the next and the next. 

The water. Run to the water. Just get to the river.

Using the trees as resting points helped a little. Each time Kelsey neared one, she leaned against its bulk and breathed for a moment before pushing off again.

Though she couldn’t see any water glistening under the moonlight yet, a low roar suggested the river lay just on the other side of the next stand of trees.

Almost…there.

Stumbling into the rough trunk of the gargantuan oak, Kelsey took a deep breath, readying herself to plunge into ice-cold water.

Beside her, laughter rumbled through the darkness as the familiar pungent scent of her tormentor’s leather mask filled her nostrils. Adrenaline poured through Kelsey, but her shaking limbs couldn’t respond fast enough for her to bolt.

“No. You’re not here.” She retreated into her typical coping method even as thick, relentless arms wrapped around her. “This isn’t real. No!”

But the arms that held her fast weren’t her imagination. Kelsey gasped as the masked man flipped her over his shoulder with ease.

Fight. I can’t go back to that hellhole.

As realization of her fate roared across her brain, Kelsey at last found the strength to resist. Kicking and screaming with rage-fueled desperation, she dug her nails into the asshole’s back. His arms. Any flesh she could reach, she shredded, feeling the skin peeling back when she caught particularly good purchase. A grunt of pain escaped her captor—the first sign of weakness he’d shown since the terror began—and hope flooded her veins.

The masked man wasn’t invincible. She could win this fight.

Despite her determination, one backward slap of his palm to her face knocked the adrenaline from her body.

Kelsey hung limp over her captor’s shoulder, dizzy and stupefied. As if her brave attempt at escape had never happened at all, the masked man started back the way she’d just come.

Each jarring step shook the air from her lungs. “No.” Her croak slid out weak and defeated. “The river.”

In her struggle to free herself, she’d lost the sound of the water, but Kelsey tuned back in. She’d come close—managed to get within mere feet of plunging into the icy river and drowning in peace.

“You didn’t think you’d actually reach the water, did you?” His laughter boomed as he continued walking. “Can’t let a pretty thing like you just go off and drown herself. Although seeing you run, like you thought you stood a chance, was one hell of a show. I was more than happy to watch.”

Nausea crashed over Kelsey like a tidal wave.

All energy and hope drained from her. As the site of her worst fears came into view—the warehouse of horrors—she prayed for death. Something, anything, to stop her from ever having to go back into that place again.

The world began to fade as if in answer to her prayer. Wondering if her family would ever find her mutilated body, Kelsey welcomed the darkening of her vision to a tiny point before unconsciousness wrapped her in its warm embrace.

Kelsey woke with a jerk as an acrid scent assaulted her nose. Like a blunt object, the smell thrust itself all the way up her nostrils, sending an acidic burn into her skull. She tried to jerk her head away, but the back of her neck hit something solid. 

“No sleeping.” The masked man corked a small vial and placed it on a wooden post next to her head. “Can’t have you passed out during the good parts, now, can I?”

A clamp of smooth wood around her neck and wrists held them level horizontally. Something hard pressed into her shoulders too. Whatever contraption he’d locked her into didn’t give an inch. Kelsey couldn’t move any part of her body.

Trapped again. Only this time, she was secured in the kneeling position he loved so much. The concrete under her legs, cold as ever, no longer soothed her.

I’m going to die here.

Her matted hair, now caked with mud, clung to the side of her face. Too bad it didn’t cover her eyes. She didn’t want to see what he had in store for her. A tiny red light blinked from a camera placed in front of her, no doubt ready to get a close-up of her screams. She’d long since stopped worrying about his need to record every session.

The footage couldn’t ruin her career—or her life—if she was six feet under.

A sharp whistle preceded the snap of a cane that connected with her ass.

Pain sent a squeak leaping from her throat.

Maybe this would be the final session. He couldn’t do this forever, could he?

“Your run seems to have woken you up from your stupor. You were getting to be no fun. That’s why I let you have that little midnight jog.”

Kelsey whimpered.

I wasn’t escaping. I was allowed to take a recess. That’s all.

The terrible whistle pierced the air again, the strike this time landing against the arch of her feet. She screamed and tried to pull away. Another hit her heels. Then her ankles. The pads of her feet. Her arches again.

Kicking did no good. The heavy wooden casement held her in place, so damn solid, it didn’t even rock as Kelsey threw her weight to the side, trying to evade the stinging in her feet. 

No escape. She could only endure.

She was a crying, blubbering mess even before his zipper dropped.

The pungent scent of his leather mask filled her nostrils once more as he bent over her and whispered, “Now it’s time to teach you a lesson about running away.”

He pressed into her dry, and she forced her mind into a different place and time. She no longer felt him, no longer saw this room. Images of her roommate, Frankie, and their friend Tyler blending margaritas. They were all throwing Mardi Gras beads, trying to get them around one another’s heads. Frankie put on a reggae playlist, and Kelsey danced barefoot on a plush carpet. Her feet felt so good.

His words brought her back. “Scream for me.”

She tried but choked on the cry she couldn’t force from her mouth. “No. You’re not here. This isn’t real. No!”

Kelsey bit down on her lip, the coppery tang of blood filling her mouth.

He brought the cane down on her ribs, and the scream he demanded burst out of her mouth.

“That’s right. Just like that. Louder.”

Swat.

“Again. Louder!”

Swat.

There was nothing left for him to take. Darkness ate at the edges of Kelsey’s vision. Even as he continued to strike, she’d slipped past the point of feeling pain.

The masked man couldn’t kill her. She was already dead.

2

“That’s Kelsey Vinn. She’s a model…”

Javier Bainbridge’s words reverberated through Sky Stryker’s mind, but she couldn’t make herself form words. Another model tortured and possibly killed. The video certainly appeared high budget enough to be real, but what kind of idiot filmed and shared the evidence of murder?

A person who didn’t think they’d get caught, obviously. But filming the torture of someone in the public eye—like the beautiful model Kelsey Vinn—would not go unnoticed.

And it looked like Kelsey had just died right in front of her eyes.

Shaking her head, Sky infused her words with as much conviction as she could muster. “No. It can’t be real.”

She shouldn’t have even opened the email. Anything coming from an unknown sender was likely junk or malware. Everyone knew that.

But she couldn’t ignore the words accompanying the video.

This Will Be You.

That kind of threat demanded attention, and the sender likely knew that. Sky had not only opened the email but immediately clicked on the video link, despite all her knowledge and distrust of the cyber world and its never-ending onslaught of viruses and spam.

“Hey.” Javier put an arm around Sky’s trembling shoulders, reminding her that he was present in her tiny Hell’s Kitchen studio apartment. “Whatever that is, we’ll figure it out. You’re here with me. You’re safe.”

A knock at the door startled Sky away from him. She sat frozen on the couch as Javier rose to answer it, his thick brown hair unkempt from repeated raking of his fingers.

After peering through the peephole, Javier opened the door. Delia Shaw, Sky’s best friend, pushed into the apartment.

The model wasted no words. “Javier, I got your text. I want to see the video.”

That jerked Sky out of her stupor. “No. You shouldn’t watch it. Not after⁠—”

“I appreciate the warning, but I can handle it.” Delia held up her hand. “Promise.”

Javier looked back and forth between them. “Are you sure?”

Delia nodded vehemently, her black hair falling in front of her eyes.

From her spot on the couch, Sky lifted her phone. “You should sit.”

As Delia positioned herself on Sky’s other side, Javier returned to his spot on the couch.

Not so different from their cuddling position from ten minutes ago, but it was safe to say the mood had changed.

So much for our “date that might not really be a date evening,” huh?

Sky shoved the thought aside as Delia watched the video.

A completely nude woman ran through the woods, screaming in terror as the person filming caught up to her. The video cut to what appeared to be the same woman forced into a submissive position by a wooden contraption from hell, her naked body in full view as a masked man stepped into the frame.

The woman shrieked as the masked man picked up a cane, each strike to her body eliciting another earsplitting scream.

“Kelsey,” Delia breathed. “Is this real? Who sent this?”

“We don’t know.” Javier rolled his neck. “Some rando emailed it to Sky.”

Delia shivered violently. “Real or not, that is Kelsey Vinn. There’s no doubt in my mind.” She looked like she might get sick, and Sky squeezed her knee. “And by the end of that footage, she’s dead or unconscious or giving an Oscar-worthy performance.”

Javier shook his head, tightening his grip on Sky’s shoulders. “No one is going to film a video like that and send it off to a writer known for exposing the ugly underbelly of the fashion world unless it’s fake. Torture porn or whatever. They’re just messing with you, Sky. It’s got to be AI-generated or something.”

Delia twisted her fingers together. “Javier’s right. It has to be fake. Some horrible…I don’t know…practical joke. You’ve pissed off a lot of people in high places. We know this. It can’t be real. It can’t.”

The logic of Delia’s words would have been more comforting if her voice hadn’t squeaked an octave higher than normal. In the present moment, Sky was sure of only one thing. She never wanted to watch that video again. But as she met Delia’s teary emerald-green eyes, she knew they’d have to find out the truth.

Sky blew out a heavy breath, sinking deeper into the worn couch cushions as exhaustion rippled through her veins.

Since moving to Manhattan almost a year ago, Sky had seen several women in various parts of the entertainment industry go missing, most of them ending up dead.

She’d only been in the city for two weeks when her cousin Megan was fished out of the Hudson River. Sky shook her head, hoping to dislodge the memory before it had her in tears, but Megan’s bloated and distorted face refused to fade away.

Megan wasn’t even the first victim. A model named Shannon Shanahan had disappeared right before Fashion Week last February. The cops hadn’t had any luck finding her. No ping on her credit cards. No body. Nothing. She’d simply…vanished.

But Shannon had been lucky compared to Megan. She’d turned up later, alive but held against her will by the Mill, a detestable organization of rich, perverted bastards. An FBI raid at one of the Mill’s private parties ended Shannon’s nightmare.

The Mill had nearly taken Delia’s life as well. Shuddering, Sky recalled how some of the top modeling agents had colluded with the Mill to force their girls into prostitution when they weren’t booking enough gigs. Delia’s former agent, Gil Stetson, had been the worst of them, guilting Delia into working an extra gig by not-so-subtly suggesting she was getting old and fat.

Raped and beaten within an inch of her life, Delia had barely made it through her “special gig” alive. Her friend, Nicole Fantasia, hadn’t managed to escape the brutality of Michael Taylor.

Also known as The Terror or Mister M, the man possessed more money than God, a kink for pain play, and enough friends in high places to allow him to get away with murder. He’d disposed of women as casually as old newspapers.

But Delia had risen from the ashes of her trauma and played a part in the raid that took them down, rescuing Sky from nearly falling into the Mill’s clutches herself.

Still, even all these months later, Sky felt Delia trembling beside her. The video of Kelsey Vinn had to hit entirely too close to home for her.

She threw an arm around her friend’s willowy frame and gave her a gentle shake. “You want something to drink?”

Tears traced a line from Delia’s high cheekbones down to her quivering chin. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

Over the top of Delia’s head, Javier met Sky’s gaze. “Maybe something without caffeine.”

“I’ve got just the thing.” A lump formed in Sky’s throat as she stood and moved into her tiny kitchenette. The last time she’d seen Delia this terrified was the day she’d shown up on Sky’s doorstep, battered and brutalized.

But Delia made it through that, and she’ll make it through this.

Sky opened a cabinet, praying she had a few clean mugs to use. The sink, forever piled high with dishes, had been on her to-do list for the day, after she finished submitting the final pages of her fourth book to her editor, Maria. But, as always, time had gotten away from her.

To her credit, Sky had swept and mopped the floors before Javier arrived for their undefined hangout—but she hadn’t washed a single plate.

As if the universe had arranged for her to play host, three mugs sat waiting in the back of her cabinet. She filled her trusty red-and-green teakettle from the sink and popped it onto the stovetop. “Going to make some chamomile tea.”

Sky prepped the mugs, adding honey and a spoonful of lemon juice with each tea bag. While the kettle boiled, she peeked into the living room.

Delia perched on the edge of the couch, stiff as a board. Her right leg bounced and bobbed, and the heel of her foot thumped the ground like an overexcited rabbit.

Javier, more stoic in appearance, was just as lost in thought as Delia. He stared at his hands as if an epic movie were playing out on his palms and he didn’t dare look away for a second.

The whistle of the kettle snapped Sky back to attention. She poured the steaming water into the prepped mugs and headed back toward the couch. “This always does the trick when I need to calm down and focus.”

She set two mugs on the coffee table, returning to the counter to nab her own cup. As much as she wanted to offer the words of comfort Delia clearly needed, Sky couldn’t say with any certainty that the video was staged.

They had both witnessed firsthand how creative some of the New York elite could get in disposing of their playthings.

When someone had money and power at their disposal, the depths of their depravity might know no limits. Forcing women into prostitution, beating them, staging suicides, and throwing their bodies into freezing rivers…Sky had seen it all in the short time she’d lived in Manhattan.

In a twisted way, she’d landed a publishing contract with Maria Wells at Cockalorum Press because of her experiences. By telling the truth, Sky’s books shined a light on the seedy underbelly of high society—and made damn sure to commemorate all the unfortunate women who’d fallen victim.

As long as she lived in NYC, Sky would never have a shortage of stories to tell. That much appeared certain.

She wrapped her hands around her warm mug of tea. If the video she’d received was real, that meant another predator going after the modeling community.

Or maybe this was a predator they hadn’t caught in their original net?

Though Sky had shot and killed her cousin’s murderer—Dustin Wint—when he’d attempted to kidnap Sky herself, Wint’s accomplice was still out there. And there were plenty of men at the Mill’s last gathering…it wasn’t out of the question that someone had slipped free. Or that not all of them had showed up.

A disturbing thought.

She turned to Delia. “When was the last time you saw Kelsey? Do you have her contact information? You should try calling her.” Words poured from Sky’s mouth as instinct fed her a checklist of questions. Anything that might help determine their next step.

Just don’t make me watch that video again.

Javier straightened, piping up as Sky went to her desk. “Do you know where she lives? Does she have family or roommates?”

Whether it was the sudden volume of her friends’ voices or the rapid-fire cadence of their questions, the light in Delia’s eyes returned. “She recently walked a runway with me.” Her gaze flitted up to the ceiling. “I think. Yeah. The nature one. Over on Thirty-Eighth.”

Sky searched through her cluttered desktop for a notebook and pen. “Okay. Good. Was she friends with any of the other models in the show?”

“Maybe? No…wait. Not in the show.”

“But she does know other models, right?” Javier continued the prodding. “Not to stereotype, but you all do have friends in the business. I mean, only a model is going to understand the life of a model, right?”

Sky spotted the spiral rings of her notebook buried under a stack of unread mail. She snatched it up, sending an avalanche of letters over the edge of her desk. Another mess she would probably neglect for a while. She grabbed the single pen jutting out from her pencil cup and spun back around to face her friends.

Delia wrinkled her forehead in thought, running a hand through her black bob. “Jen…or was it…” She took a sip of tea. “Frankie. Yes. I was there when she brought Kelsey in. I think they might be roommates. And now that I think about it, they were both in the show.”

“You got a last name? Phone number, maybe?” Sky jotted down Frankie’s name, writing, Roommate? beside it.

Delia shook her head. “We’re going to have to get that from Nadine.”

As the founder and owner of Barrett Model Management, Nadine Barrett would have contact info for all her models.

“Okay. What else can you tell me about Kelsey?” Sky prepared to write down everything Delia said. Right or wrong, they could suss that out later. For now, any information was good.

“I had only just met her. But we got along so well. She’s a small-town girl, like me. All those big dreams and stars in her eyes. I should have gone out with her after the show. She wanted someone to show her the town. You know, all the good spots, where the locals go.” Delia slumped back against the couch cushions. “Maybe if I’d gone with her…”

“Don’t go there. You can’t let yourself take the blame.” Javier edged his gentle tone with firm resolve and gave a reassuring pat to Delia’s arm.

Sky couldn’t have agreed more. Speaking from her own experience, she had driven herself crazy after the death of her friend Tessa Emerson over a decade ago. Even now, Sky sometimes slipped back into those dark waters. It didn’t take much to sink under and drown in all that self-loathing and depression. “You couldn’t have known something like that would happen. Cut yourself some slack and stick to the facts.”

Lip quivering, Delia sniffled before sitting up straight and reclaiming her mug. “Kelsey was supposed to do an agency shoot two days ago. I stopped by Barrett to chat with Nadine. She was having a fit because Kelsey hadn’t shown up. It crossed my mind that maybe something horrible had happened to Kelsey, but I told myself I was just overreacting based on my own experience. I mean, the Mill is gone now. Or it’s supposed to be.”

Javier took a sip and leaned forward, his expression soft with concern. “Delia, you’ve worked really hard at not letting your trauma control you. You absolutely cannot fault yourself for keeping calm when Kelsey didn’t show. Like Sky said, you couldn’t have known.”

“But I literally just…dismissed her in my head.” Delia squeezed her eyes tight for a moment. “I’m not proud of myself for saying this. But I’ve seen it a hundred times. Some girls have big dreams, but they aren’t cut out for this life. Kelsey had the look, but that’s not always enough.”

“You thought she went home?” Given the video, that obviously wasn’t the case. But Sky knew Delia hadn’t had that…information…at the time.

Delia hunched her shoulders. “I nearly did in my early days. Anyway, that was my first thought. That, or she changed agencies.”

Sky underlined the words find parents’ phone number in her notebook. “I guess that’s not uncommon.”

“Like you said, Kelsey also could’ve been poached by another agency.” Javier had no doubt seen more than his fair share of this in action. “You know. Cutthroat industry and all.”

Delia rolled her eyes. “But no one is going to give a better deal or treat her as good as Nadine. Looking back, I don’t even know why I considered she might have jumped ship.”

Having experienced a taste of that life when she went undercover as a model while working on a case, Sky wholeheartedly agreed with Delia. “People don’t always think things through when they’re seeing dollar signs, but we’ll cross that bridge if we need to.”

“You think she’s pulling a stunt?” Delia eyed Sky’s phone but didn’t reach for it. “That she’s not coming to work anymore because she’s doing…? I don’t even know what to call that.”

Sky bit her lip as she tried to define the recording. “I guess it’d be called…hurtcore.” She’d recently learned all about what humiliating, torturing, and making a public spectacle of a victim entailed when she and her friends investigated an online predator.

“But is it fake?” The pleading look returned to Delia’s eyes. “You think she’s pretending to be…I don’t know…knocked out at the end?”

That’s the million-dollar question.

“We’ll figure it out.” Javier set his empty cup on the coffee table. “We don’t really know there’s any threat to Kelsey here, or to Sky, for that matter. Not yet. If a little poking around doesn’t solve things, we bring in the big guns.”

He was right. Sami Hayat, Delia’s boyfriend and Javier’s old military buddy, was a top-notch P.I. who’d assisted them in solving several crimes. And Calysta Baros, Sky’s neighbor and official mother hen to the small group of friends, provided her own brand of kick-ass in the form of thirty-four years of experience with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

They could call on either or both of their amazing friends if needed.

Sky wished Callie were here right now, sharing her wisdom, but the older woman was enjoying a weekend trip with her adult children. She rarely vacationed, and Delia was more than happy to cat-sit. These days, she spent more time sleeping at Callie’s or Sami’s than in her own apartment. Ever since she’d been attacked, she relied on the company of trusted friends to help her stave off anxiety.

Sky stood from her desk and settled on the couch, wrapping Delia in a hug. “It’s true. We’ve got a proven track record with this kind of thing. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Although she wasn’t exactly sure how they would do that, just saying they’d try seemed to perk Delia up. As the clock neared midnight, that was the most any of them could ask for.

And as far as that disturbing email subject line—This Will Be You—Sky hoped Javier was right. Someone was messing with her. She’d expected as much when she’d written her first tell-all. Her books were bound to piss people off.

Yes. This is par for the course. It doesn’t mean anyone’s actually out to get me.

But the goose bumps on her arms promised otherwise.

3

After a restless night alternating between fits of crying and staring at the shadows on the ceiling, Delia forced herself to get up from the couch. She squinted against the sunlight flooding the one-room apartment. She had no idea when Javier had left or when she and Sky had finally turned in for the evening. Lack of sleep left her mind foggy and disconnected.

Nightmares had haunted her the moment she closed her eyes. Between her traumatic encounter with the Mill not so long ago and the video of Kelsey’s torture, peace eluded Delia.

She needed answers.

Sky was occupying the bathroom, so Delia splashed a little water on her face at the kitchen sink. She grabbed her purse and called out to her friend. “I’m going to check on Callie’s cats, then I’m heading to Barrett.”

“It’s Sunday.” Sky poked her head out of the bathroom, wrestling her long auburn hair into a ponytail. “Won’t Nadine be at home?”

“Fashion doesn’t take a day off. If she’s got girls scheduled for shoots today, you’d better believe Nadine will be in the office.”

Sky emerged from the bathroom and grabbed a jacket hanging over the back of the couch. “Can we stop and get coffee on the way?” She swiped her keys from a decorative bowl on the counter separating the living space from the kitchenette.

That was the quality Delia loved about her friend. It didn’t matter who needed assistance, Sky was always ready to charge forward. The opportunity to help someone was all the motivation she needed.

Sky’s heart was unfailingly in the right place. This fact bolstered Delia’s spirit as dark clouds rolled through her mind.

Though the video had triggered memories of the trauma she’d endured at the hands of the Mill, Delia was determined not to let her own discomfort hinder her from helping with this case. If she could help keep anyone else from harm, she could deal with the memories.

But she worried that, just as a hydra could regrow two heads when one was cut off, a Mill clone—or something even more sinister—had risen to fill the niche left when the Feds dismantled the sex ring. By taking down the previous organization, they might have inadvertently encouraged independent operations to rise.

Delia shuddered as the thought sent a chill racing down her spine.

The Mill had its claws in all aspects of the fashion industry. Nearly every agency had someone prostituting girls out to feed the perverse obsessions of the rich and powerful.

But as bad as the Mill had been, the members had been discreet. No one had so brazenly shared videos of their escapades.

“You okay?” Sky’s eager expression shifted as her honey-brown gaze settled on Delia.

Not ready to give voice to her worries, Delia tried to cover her trembling with a yawn as she stretched her arms out wide. “Yeah. Caffeine is definitely on the agenda today. Let’s get going.”

Twisting her neck, she regretted the time she’d spent tossing and turning on the couch. A trigger point knot tugged at the edge of her shoulder blades as she reached for the ceiling, trying to deepen the stretch.

Inside Callie’s apartment, Delia flipped a coin and lost the toss, meaning that Sky got the privilege of feeding salmon pâté to the cats while she scooped the litter box. Recently, Callie had become quite irritated at the cats leaving litter everywhere. She’d jokingly told Delia she was going to order a Turbo Blast 360 Vacuum Pack she’d seen on the Home Shopping Network.

After sweeping up the litter, Delia agreed a Turbo Blast would come in handy.

With the cats tended to, they headed out to find caffeine. A short subway ride later, coffees in hand, Delia and Sky arrived at Barrett Model Management. They made their way to Nadine’s office.

“I don’t have you on the schedule.” Nadine Barrett’s tone was as severe as the tightly knotted chestnut bun atop her head as she greeted them, but her brown eyes remained fixed on the computer screen before her. Fingers flying across the keyboard, the thirtysomething woman seemed engrossed in her work.

Delia spotted a wedding binder next to Nadine’s keyboard, however. She suspected that Nadine, while seeming busy at work, was actually tackling a task for Adrielle, her fiancée. They’d recently traveled to Niagara Falls for a special trip and returned engaged.

Wedding planning on the job…tsk-tsk.

“We won’t take much of your time. I promise.” Delia regretted not calling ahead. That would have been the polite thing to do. Lack of sleep was no excuse for poor manners. Nadine clearly had a lot on her plate.

Sky nudged her with an elbow and lifted the extra cup they’d picked up along the way.

“We brought you some…uh…coffee.” Clearing her throat, Delia waited until Sky set the cup down on Nadine’s desk. “Vanilla latte, lightly sweetened, right?”

That drew Nadine’s attention. Her gaze shifted from the computer screen to the steaming cup at the edge of her desk. “This looks like a bribe. But if that were the case, you’d have grabbed me a lemon square too.” A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“I told you.” Sky nudged Delia with her elbow. “Coffee and food. Always bring a snack.”

Capturing the cup with a swipe of her hand, Nadine clicked her tongue. “You should have listened to your friend. Smart girl. Though, from what I’ve heard through the rumor mill, it will take a lot more than coffee to get back in Maria’s good graces.”

Sky froze where she stood. “You know Maria?”

Nadine waved a hand. “Our circles overlap. But yes. I’ve known her for years.”

Shoulders slumped, Sky ventured another question. “Is she really mad?”

“Disappointed would be a better word.” Nadine took a sip from her cup. “But I haven’t spoken to her for a few days, so I can’t be too sure.”

“I sent over the pages she was waiting for last night.”

“Hm. Maybe a small gesture of apology is in order.” Nadine raised the cup to Sky. “Something bigger than coffee. Send her a surprise delivery of flowers or some scrumptious bagels. That type of thing. Add a note addressing your deep regrets and promise to never miss a deadline again. I know that’d go far with me.”

Sky whipped her phone out of her pocket. “Perfect. Thanks, Nadine. I’ll order that now.”

“As for you…” A muscle worked in Nadine’s jaw, and her posture stiffened as she shifted her focus to Delia. “You haven’t missed a gig or caused me any trouble lately. Why are you here with bribes?”

Delia stood frozen, debating how much she wanted to say to Nadine. As Kelsey’s agent, Nadine should be made aware of what was happening to one of her girls. But Nadine had also just recovered from the damage the Mill had tried to do to her new agency.

Dropping extra stress on the woman before they were sure it was warranted seemed wrong.

Nadine was one of the good ones. An agent who championed inclusivity and worked to break free of the stereotypes of women’s beauty. Her moral compass had caught the ire of the Mill. When she refused to take part in their prostitution scheme, they’d threatened her, broken into her house, and sent an assassin after her.

A lesser woman might have caved, but Nadine had held strong. She’d been through enough, though, and Delia didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily. “I need Kelsey Vinn’s contact info and address.”

As she spoke the name, Nadine pressed her lips together. “You know, I’m a little worried about her.”

“Me too. I just want to check on her. It feels weird, you know…” Delia shrugged, hoping she appeared concerned and not downright scared. “Her just disappearing like that. Especially with Fashion Week coming up so soon.”

Even as they danced around what they really meant, the two of them shared a look.

“Yeah. I half expected to get an offer from another agency trying to buy her out of her contract, but nothing has crossed my desk.” After another sip from her coffee, Nadine set her cup down and shuffled through the piles of papers stacked around her desk. “I must admit, it doesn’t sit right with me that I haven’t heard anything at all. She lives with Frankie Jenkins. I’ll text you the info.”

“Thank you. I’ll feel better after I check on her.” Delia’s shoulders sagged. “You know how this city can be and all the crap I’ve been through. I just want to be sure she’s okay.”

Nadine pulled out her phone and tapped out a message before setting it back on the desk. “You’ve got a heart of gold. Make sure you have the armor to keep it protected.”

Delia’s phone chirped, alerting her to the new message. “I can’t help it.”

“I’ve seen plenty come and go in this business.” Nadine tucked back a stray hair that’d fallen loose from her bun. “It’s never easy, and you can’t save them all. You’ll drive yourself crazy if you try to.”

She meant well. Her words weren’t to dissuade Delia from her task. Tough as Nadine was, she, too, had a great big bleeding heart, and she was trying to keep Delia’s from breaking.

“Understood.” Delia hoped her smile was convincing.

“If you don’t find Kelsey at her apartment, stop by City Hall Park. Frankie’s there doing a catalog shoot. Going to be a long day for her.”

The offer of an additional lead proved how concerned Nadine was about her missing model.

Delia tugged at Sky’s sleeve and angled her head toward the door. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“When you do, don’t forget my lemon squares.” Nadine’s eyes twinkled.

Delia turned away, hoping she’d be back with those lemon squares soon, after finding Kelsey safe and sound. She and Sky left the office and headed back to the subway.

“I’ll update Javier.” Sky texted as they walked. “He said he’s drowning in preparations for Fashion Week, but he’ll want to know what’s going on.”

A small part of Delia envied Javier. As much as he cared, he had no choice but to let work distract him. She was fairly certain nothing could distract her again until they learned the truth about Kelsey’s disappearance.

About that horrible video.

Their best-case scenario was that Kelsey had taken on some shady work. Worst case…Delia couldn’t let herself go down that road. Not yet. Not while she still had a shred of hope to hang on to.

4

Sky bit her lip to stop a frown from taking over her face as her best friend pounded on Kelsey’s apartment door.

Third attempt. No response.

Delia let out a frustrated growl. “I don’t know if coming to her apartment was worth it.”

Was she making a statement or asking for options? Sky couldn’t tell and didn’t want to make the wrong suggestion, seeing as Delia’s agitation was growing with every second. “Nadine said Frankie will be downtown at the photo shoot for most of the day. We still have plenty of time.”

“You’re right. They’re roommates. It’s possible Kelsey said something to her.” Even as Delia tried to sound confident, the defeated look in her eyes betrayed her true feelings. “Or at the very least, Frankie might have noticed her acting strange.”

It broke Sky’s heart to see her friend so upset, but she had no suggestions to offer. The whole situation was like watching a horror movie. “I’m here to help. You just tell me where to go.”

A short walk brought them back to the subway where they jogged down the stairs leading into the station.

Delia studied the subway map on the wall. Reaching up, she traced the yellow line down to their destination. “We can take the N or the R to City Hall. Let’s go talk to Frankie. And if we strike out there, I guess we show the video to Sami and get the gang involved like we talked about doing.”

Sky followed Delia to the access gates. “If anyone can figure out if the video is real or not, it’s your man.”

“Right.” Delia swiped her MetroCard and rushed toward the open doors of a train that had just arrived. “I just feel bad bringing this to him right now. That last case really opened up a lot of old wounds.”

With no open seats on the busy train, Sky grabbed the first available handrail. She eyed her friend as Delia grabbed the overhead bar.

Delia’s tone was off. Too rushed. Too flippant. Sure, Sami had been affected by their last case, but he’d also confided in Sky that solving it, and bringing that pedophile to justice, had helped him make peace with what happened to his sister all those years ago.

No. Sky refused to believe Sami’s fragile emotional state was the reason for Delia’s reluctance.

Her friend was having a very apparent trauma response. No doubt watching such disturbing footage of Kelsey had triggered vivid memories of the assault and rape Delia had endured. Sky had been hesitant to share the disturbing video with her friend, but Delia insisted she wanted to help.

Of course the model didn’t want to bring this up to Sami. Delia had lived through a similar hell once before, and it had been hard enough then to get her to open up. If not for the fact they’d needed clues from her to find the bastard, she might never have revealed her pain.

And now she’s closing herself off.

Sky noted how Delia kept a white-knuckle hold on the overhead bar while gluing her gaze to her feet. She stared at her new canvas sneakers like they were the most interesting thing on the train, but Sky knew better. Delia was struggling.

As the doors closed, the train jolted forward, sending a tall man wearing a pair of faded jeans and a hooded sweatshirt crashing into Delia’s back.

“What the hell?” Spinning with a practiced precision, Delia turned and shoved the man back. Balling her fists, she brought them up to her face, ready to strike.

“Excuse me. I’m sorry. So sorry.” Holding his hands up in surrender, eyes wide and fearful, the man backed away. “It was an accident.”

“Oh, my god.” Delia’s expression shifted. The snarl on her lip vanished as she peered down at her balled fists. She dropped her hands to her sides. “I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“It’s fine.” Still putting as much distance between them as the packed train would allow, the man gave a nervous nod. “I get it. Big guy running you down on the train. I’d punch me too.”

Sky wanted to pull Delia into a hug. Witnessing another tortured model had to be worse than a flashback, and it had her on high alert, ready to strike a perfect stranger for bumping her on the subway.

It was a wonder she had the control to hold back her strike. With all of Delia’s Krav Maga training, she no doubt could have dropped that guy.

“Hey.” Sky reached out, intending to tap Delia on the shoulder. But then, worried she might get a knuckle sandwich, she left her hand hovering in the air. “Whatever you need from me, just say it. Okay?”

Delia nodded, though her eyes were aimed at her feet again. “I’m just hoping Frankie has something helpful to offer.”

“Fingers crossed.” Sky tried to give her voice a little boost of positivity, though she wasn’t expecting to get anything concrete from visiting Kelsey’s roommate.

She slid her gloved hand up and down the handrail as the train rattled south. The more Sky considered the video, the more it seemed real. Delia hadn’t said as much, but based on her reactions, she had to feel the same. Either way, they would need to uncover the truth before either of them could ever let the matter go.

The shoot took up a majority of City Hall Park, with all the walkways around the Jacob Wrey Mould Fountain blocked off with crowd-control barriers.

Models clothed in fur and shimmery gold meant to call lions to mind followed assistants to a different section of the fountain set up with lighting rigs. From what Sky could see, three photographers were taking shots.

“Let’s find the dressing trailer.” Delia turned around. “Over there.” Already walking, she pointed toward the edge of the park, where a caravan of trailers and food trucks lined the road bordering the small, triangle-shaped park.

Sky had only dipped her toes in the modeling world and had never attended a shoot as large as this. People buzzed around like bees, each one rushing to complete their task. She’d expected chaos, but that didn’t even begin to describe the madhouse all around her.

Though everyone present scurried about with alarming speed, they all seemed to move with a strange synchronicity. Sometimes coming within inches of collision, people glided past each other undeterred, moving like the parts of a well-oiled machine.

Not wanting to get lost in the shuffle, Sky sprinted to catch up to Delia as she arrived at the first trailer. A note taped to the door identified it as Dressing Room Number 1.

Delia opened the door and poked her head inside before waving for Sky to follow.

“Are you in the shoot too?” A woman’s voice greeted them as Delia stepped up into the trailer.

“No. Not this time.” Delia held the door for Sky to come through. “But wow. Frankie, you look fabulous.”

The trailer wasn’t large by any stretch of the imagination, but every inch of space had been packed with purpose. Clothing racks lined the back wall, allowing for enough wiggle room so a bunch of models could get changed. On the other side were makeup stations.

A woman painted from head to toe in shimmering gold sat in a folding chair at a vanity station in the back corner. Every inch of her glittered, making it hard to tell where the paint ended and the fabric of her golden maxi dress began. A fur stole sat on the vanity, and Sky wondered how she could get that on without smearing the body paint. As the only person in the trailer, she had to be Frankie.

Delia headed toward the woman and grabbed a folding chair set against the wall. “I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

“Sure. What’s up?” Gold makeup hid Frankie’s true expression, but her worry came through loud and clear.

“I’ve been trying to reach Kelsey.” Delia chewed her lip. “Have you heard from her? Or seen her recently?”

“Oh.” Frankie turned away from Delia and faced the lighted mirror. “Don’t know where she ran off to. But you know what? Rent is due next week. She’d better be back with a check before then, or she can find herself somewhere else to live.”

“You think she took off?” Sky noted the way Frankie had taken on a guarded tone. That wasn’t how someone spoke about their best buddy, but roommates didn’t necessarily mean friends. “Has she done this before?”

“Kelsey? No. But it doesn’t matter who they are. Friend or perfect stranger.” Frankie twisted to face Sky. “I swore I wouldn’t take on another model as my roommate again. I’m such an idiot.”

Nope. Definitely not best friends.

“When—”

“I can barely afford the place as it is.” Frankie’s tone indicated a scowl under the many layers of golden makeup. “Do you know how hard it is to get into a rent-controlled apartment?”

Sky glanced at Delia, hoping for an answer. Having lived in Manhattan for less than a year, she had no experience with how rent control worked.

“I don’t want to lose it. I can’t lose it. I couldn’t afford to live anywhere else. Kelsey was supposed to be reliable.” Crossing her arms, Frankie scoffed. “That’s what I get for not sticking to my guns.”

“You’re not worried something might have happened to her?” Delia’s concern was a sobering contrast to Frankie’s annoyance.

“What? No. Why would anything…” Frankie unraveled her arms and leaned toward Delia. “Did something happen to her?”

Sky pitied the young woman for her abrupt realization that all might not be well in Kelsey’s world. “We’re not sure. If you’re worried she’s skipping out on you, does that mean her stuff is gone? She would’ve taken most of her things if she had no intention of coming back, don’t you think?”

“Oh, my god, you’re right.” Gulping down a breath, Frankie closed her eyes, as if trying to compose herself. “Everything is still there. Everything. I’m an asshole.”

Delia reached out as if to put a hand on Frankie’s shoulder but seemed to rethink that plan when she glanced at the shimmering gold paint. She pulled her hand back. “You’re not an asshole.”

“I am.” Frankie’s shoulders slumped, but as she opened her eyes, her face remained turned away from Delia. “Of course Kelsey wouldn’t do that. But this isn’t the first time I’ve been burned, so I didn’t even consider that something might’ve happened.”

Even though Frankie was coated with gold and glitter, Sky saw honesty in the model’s embarrassed posture. That was enough to convince her Frankie did care for Kelsey. “We’ve all done that before. Jumping to the wrong conclusion. Wanting to prove the universe is out to get us.”

Delia sat in silence, head bobbing in agreement.

“Can you tell us the last time you did see her?” Sky figured if they’d done their runways together, maybe they partied together too.

“Last time I saw her, we were all getting cleaned up after the nature show.”

“You were in that one, too, weren’t you, Delia? When you dressed up like a woodland nymph?” When Delia nodded, Sky counted the days in her head. “What was that, a week from last Friday…so nine days ago?”

“That’s the one. She was getting a lot of attention. There were offers to go club-hopping. Pretty normal stuff. Well, for her.” Frankie appeared to shrink as she slumped in the chair. “That’s how it always goes with the truly gorgeous girls. No one can resist that girl-next-door beauty. They get scouted, offered more money, better contracts, whatever. Next thing I know, they’re saying, ‘Goodbye, Frankie. It’s been fun.’”

Delia reached out and grasped Frankie’s hand. “Honey, you are beautiful. Don’t you forget it. You wouldn’t have landed this gig if you weren’t.”

“Beautiful? I’m covered in gold and glitter. You can’t even see my face.” Frankie pulled free of Delia’s grip, sniffling, and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “Crap. Now I have to fix the makeup before they call me out there.” Eyes wide, she turned toward the vanity.

“You want some help?” Delia stood and stepped up behind Frankie. “Let me try.”

Another loud huff escaped from Frankie’s lips. “I can’t screw this job up. I don’t have anything to fall back on, and I really can’t afford the apartment by myself.”

“Shhh. Everything’s going to be fine.” Delia snatched a makeup palette from the top drawer in the vanity and went to work. “I’ve had my share of disasters. You’ll get through this. Why not chat with Nadine after you’re done today? See if she can help you find an extra roommate or a few more gigs. Maybe she can work out an advance on earnings this month to help you get by.”

Tears welled in Frankie’s eyes, and she grabbed a tissue to dab the wetness away before it ruined her makeup. “I couldn’t ask her that.” Her voice was whisper soft.

All the initial reservations Sky had about Frankie vanished as she witnessed the model edging toward a complete breakdown. Delia, however, was the picture of calm as she painted the golden smile back on Frankie’s face. Sky studied her in the mirror. Even with all the pain she’d been bottling through the day, it was evident Delia had mustered the strength to help bring peace to another struggling woman.

Modeling might have been her job, but Delia had a real knack for soothing raw emotions. She’d make a fantastic therapist.

With her makeup fixed, Frankie appeared to breathe a little easier. “Sorry for the…for me being such a mess.”

Delia tipped her head at Sky. “We all have our rough days.”

“Yeah.” Sky couldn’t agree more. “No one has a perfect life. There’s some bad mixed in with the good.”

Just ask Tessa. Or Jarrod. Or Megan. Or Chloe.

“That’s why we came down here to talk to you.” Delia resumed her seat. “We’re worried about Kelsey. With Nadine saying she’s missed some gigs and you confirming she hasn’t been home, it’s pretty likely she’s the one having a terrible time right now.”

“Have you tried her cell?” Frankie shook her head even as the words left her mouth. “Of course you have. You wouldn’t have tracked me down if you hadn’t. What about her parents? Maybe she got scared off by something and went home?”

“Do you have their number?” Sky didn’t really believe Kelsey had returned home. But it was their best hope, since chances were slim she’d chosen to star in hurtcore porn. With luck, she’d tried it once and decided that was enough.

“It’s not in my phone. But we have an emergency list taped to the fridge. I’m sure it’s there. I can text it to you when I get home later.”

Delia exchanged numbers with Frankie just as the door to the trailer flew open.

A short woman with a tablet in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other poked her head in. “Frankie, spot two. You’re up.”

Sky hadn’t expected much from this visit, but she couldn’t help the disappointment of not gaining any helpful information.

All three of them exited the trailer. Frankie headed off with the woman, waving as she walked away.

I think it might be time for us to talk to Sami and see what he can find. Bring in Callie. Get the gang involved.

She glanced at Delia and caught a glimpse of the distraught expression on her friend’s face. Sky clamped her mouth shut and decided to hold off on mentioning it again.

But at the very least, they could sit down and discuss things. Form a new plan before taking any extra steps Delia might not be comfortable with. Preferably with food, Sky’s go-to pick-me-up.

She tucked her arm into Delia’s elbow. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. How about we stop at Mr. Lee’s by the apartment? Get some of that broccoli beef you love?”

“You know me too well.” Delia’s lip quivered for a moment before the start of a smile turned one corner of her mouth up. “Food first. Then we need to see if there’s any more of Kelsey’s trail to follow. We can start by calling her mother.”

“You’re the boss.” Sky tapped her forehead in an exaggerated mock salute, hoping to get a laugh out of Delia and further lighten her mood. Truth was, they barely had a trail at all. But that was better discussed on a full stomach.

5

“Lovely. That’s great,” I lied through my teeth, using my best praising tone as I snapped pictures of the girls against the backdrop of the NYC skyline. “One more. You there, in the red. Can you place your hand on her hip?” Maybe give her a little squeeze too. “Excellent.”

Click. Click. Click.

These were the jobs I loathed. The low-budget fast-fashion industry had been leaning toward real people to feature in their ads. Some bullshit about inclusivity and brand loyalty. Jargon that corporations loved to use these days. They wouldn’t spend more than thirteen cents making the garments they sold. Why should they be expected to shell out for decent models?

“Lovely. Let’s try some girl power. Give me attitude.” Wrap Blondie’s ponytail around your fist and give her a good, hard yank.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

I barely paid attention as the shutter clicked and the camera captured each image. They’d all look the same, anyway, vacant expressions and lifeless postures from a trio of girls not fit for gentlemen of taste.

Still, I played my part, plastic smile and all, as I called for a break. “Excellent work, ladies. You’re killing it today. Take five while I review what we have so far.” I pulled the SD card from the camera and held it out for the mousy little creature lurking behind me, my ever-vigilant assistant, Kelton. “Load them up on the laptop. I’ll check them in a minute. I’m going to scout a little closer to the water to see if we can get better lighting.”

“On it,” Kelton squeaked. New SD card already in his hand, he swapped it for the full one I’d just pulled from the camera. “You need a coffee or anything, sir?”

“No.” Every time that kid talked, I had to suppress my laughter.

He was eighteen, but the pitch of his voice made him sound like he’d just entered puberty. I understood the struggle, having taken the long route to becoming my best self too. Being perceived as different or weak made one an easy target.

People were inherently cruel, preying on those who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—stand up for themselves. Overcoming that trait required the strength of character to become crueler than all the others.

Survival of the fittest.

Kelton scurried off, making an embarrassing display as he tripped, ass over teakettle, right in front of the trio of models.

If off-brand girls were turning him into a nervous wreck, he clearly needed all the help he could get. Maybe I’d take the boy under my wing. Teach him the ropes.

Then again, life lessons weren’t meant to be easy. Mine hadn’t been. No one took pity on me, and I turned out all right.

After installing the new SD card, I let the camera hang from the strap around my neck and took a walk. City Hall Park was always a little too busy for my taste, but the client had insisted. They wanted that iconic Manhattan feel with all the high-rises in the background.

I’d have my work cut out editing all the additional people who walked into the frame. This job was proving more trouble than it was worth. Normally, I’d have a fair selection of girls to photograph. New prospects for future videos too.

But not this lot. The whole group of models hired for today came from Barrett Model Management. And not a single one was up to my boss’s standards.

Guillermo De Luca would have laughed if any of these trolls showed up asking for a contract. What pissed me off even more was that Barrett did have some shining stars.

They just hadn’t sent any my way.

I turned toward the other shoot taking place at the Jacob Wrey Mould Fountain, just a few hundred yards away. Lion themed and clearly meant for top models, the production had at least three different photographers scurrying around beautiful women clothed in furs, cat claws, and dazzling gold makeup.

Exiting the dressing trailer, a slender beauty covered head to toe in gold headed toward the fountain. Two other exceptionally gorgeous women stepped out behind her, one with a striking black bob and the other sporting a deliciously long auburn ponytail.

Something was familiar about the redhead, but at this distance, I couldn’t place her.

In street clothes and walking away from the fountain, they obviously weren’t participating in the nature shoot.

Pity I can’t ask them to join this train wreck. Give me something worth viewing through a camera lens.

Normally, the boss allowed me total freedom to select girls for my special videos. The only time he bothered me was when he suggested scenes to include in my next production.

I’d gotten special accolades for my use of the anal hook and power drill attachments in the last one. To top it off, I’d framed the scene perfectly, ensuring whoever viewed it would feel they were part of the action.

Despite the boss’s claims I was doing a good job, however, he’d foisted a supervisor of sorts on me. An uppity little bitch who’d recently made a name for herself in the business. She was granted access to my warehouse and equipment. He’d even suggested she help with selecting the next girls to star in my films, since she had direct connections to all the modeling and talent agencies in town. I was instructed to treat her as an equal, which meant not trying to manipulate her into starring in my movies.

She, in fact, starred in her own productions. As the dominant party.

Ridiculous.

Being partnered with another artist I could deal with. But why did he have to choose a fucking woman?

Growling, I balled my hands into fists as I walked down the grassy hill toward the waterfront.

I don’t work with women.

Conniving, double-crossing, manipulative, heartless creatures. Oh, sure, they appeared soft and sweet on the outside. It was the perfect hook to reel in their prey. They were masters of men’s weaknesses, fully aware of how men were enslaved by their impulses.

They duped men with all that feminine softness. With those gentle eyes and curvaceous bodies, they flaunted themselves, turning men’s instincts against their better judgments. Once they had their hooks in, that was when their true natures came out.

I’d learned that hard lesson back when I was an innocent mousy thing, like Kelton. Idolizing women for the gorgeous creatures they pretended to be. Foolishly, I let myself believe in all that true-love shit. Gave my heart away to the first pretty girl who showed me attention.

Oh, she was good. Like a drug, she had me completely addicted. Built like a goddess, her body was utter perfection, the sex mind-blowing. With her hand on my dick, she could get me to agree to anything.

At the promise of a bareback ride, she’d even convinced me to smuggle a balloon of heroin. Like a chump, I did it. Anything for my ladylove. And how did she repay my devotion?

Sold me out for a plea bargain and shacked up with a football player while I did five years in hell.

A shiver ran down my spine. I could almost hear the soft footsteps padding toward my cell. I tensed, muscles tightening, butt cheeks clenching as I closed my eyes and forced the memory away.

I wasn’t locked up anymore. I’d gotten my freedom back. I had friends in high places, and as long as I kept them happy with my work, no one could touch me ever again.

Even if it meant dealing with my new bitch of a supervisor.

Maybe I should take a quick ride out to the studio tonight. Work off a little of this pent-up frustration.

“Pictures are all loaded up.” Kelton’s voice carried on the breeze. A squeaky reminder that the day’s work still had to be done.

Good kid. Maybe he had potential after all.

Work hard. Play harder.

I spun on my heel, ready to head back up the hill, when I caught a blond vision in pink sitting on a park bench.

There’s someone worth photographing.

She wasn’t a model, but even from a distance, I saw the irresistible elements of both Ginger and Mary Ann in her. Classic beauty that didn’t need enhancement with makeup and subtle hints of sex kitten peeking out through her colorful wardrobe choices.

Camera in hand, I made my way up to her. “I didn’t realize they were sending another model over.”

Blondie’s head tilted up, lashes fluttering as her pale-blue eyes met mine. “Oh. Um, no. I’m not a⁠—”

Before she could finish the sentence, I lifted my camera and snapped a picture. “Oh, that look. Do it again.”

Snap. Snap.

Ducking her head, she lifted her hand to shield her face. “Stop. You’re embarrassing me.”

“A face like yours deserves to be immortalized. Why hide all this raw beauty from the world?”

Her hand lowered enough for me to catch the flush of her cheeks. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Putty in my hands. Too easy.

“It’s my job to recognize beauty.” I held up the camera. “You have it in spades. Do you have headshots? I could have you over to my studio. Get a whole portfolio going.”

I was already setting up the shot in my mind. Chained to the ground on all fours. A ball gag to keep her silent. My camera focusing on her firm ass. A nice pull-away money shot before I stepped in to fill her holes with my toys. With myself.

Just thinking about it was getting me hard.

“I couldn’t possibly.” Smiling with her pearly whites on full display, she shook her head. “I have too many friends who model. Not the life for me. But I’m so flattered.”

Casting a glance over my shoulder, I spotted the subpar trio I’d left waiting for my return. “You’re friends with them?” They could keep waiting for all I cared. I had a fish on the line and was seconds away from reeling her in.

“Yeah. Darcy. Over there in the red.” She pointed and waved. “We’re going to lunch after she’s done for the day.”

“I could steal you away instead.” I lifted my camera and took another quick shot. She was head and shoulders prettier than the three pretenders standing behind me. “One session in my studio could change your life.”

Her breath hitched, her eyes widening. The spark of intrigue was there. She no doubt believed my promise to change her life meant fame and fortune.

Not quite. But I could change your life, all right.

I winked. “You’re considering it, aren’t you?”

She sucked in her bottom lip.

There it is. The go-to move every woman uses when they’re contemplating manipulation. That’s why they can’t be trusted.

Clearly, she was making the mental calculations. Determining how much she could get out of me. Women wielded their sexuality like a blunt instrument. Free photography, at the very least, was on the table.

The fairer sex, my ass! Proof again that even the most innocent-looking woman is a master manipulator.

Her tricks might work on lesser men, but I had already learned that painful lesson. I refused to fall for it again.

Yet since she wanted control, to decide her fate, I’d let her. Going for my checkmate move, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a business card.

“No pressure. Some women just aren’t cut out for this kind of thing. Think about it, and if you want to give it a shot, call me.” Turning away from her and avoiding eye contact, I held out the card. “What’s your name, if I might ask?”

“Mariela.” Her sweet, meek tone didn’t fool me for a second.

It was a beautiful name, and she was well aware.

“Interesting.” I kept my expression neutral. “Well, I have to get back to working with the real models now.”

The moment the card left my hand, I walked away.

Leave them confused, and they can’t resist the urge to get your attention again, even if only to try to get in the last word. Drives them crazy.

I was confident she’d call me. She would be perfect for my next series of films, exactly the kind of girl-next-door innocent my boss loved to see twisted into a broken plaything.

Two days tops. She’ll call and beg me to invite her into my studio.

Until then, I still had my current toy to play with.

After a disappointing day of inflating the egos of minimally attractive women, I’d reached the limits of my tolerance. As I drove down the long stretch of highway heading for my studio, I could already envision my little plaything strapped and secured in the pillory. Excitement turned my foot to lead as I pushed my car faster. Speed limit be damned. I needed a release.

Secluded from the rest of the world, hidden by a deep pocket of untouched forest, the studio was my sanctuary from the drudgery of the world. A place where I could make my dreams into reality and shape the world as I saw fit.

If only I could be there every day. But as paint required a canvas, so, too, my art needed a muse. My current plaything was nearing the end of her usefulness. Good thing I already had an iron in the fire. Mariela would do nicely once she made the call.

That thought put a smile on my face as the studio warehouse came into view. Ready to work off a little tension, I pulled into the small drive and found another vehicle parked in my space.

I banged my fist on the steering wheel. I don’t need this bullshit now.

Ashley Duncan. My new “supervisor.” I recognized the car. It wasn’t hers. She was allowed its use as a perk of working with my boss.

What the hell is she doing in my studio? Our arrangement was for her to use the space on Tuesdays so she wouldn’t interrupt my work.

As if my day hadn’t already been trying enough.

I left the car and headed inside. Distant sounds of Ashley working over her slave filled the air as I took the hallway toward the back of the warehouse.

First, I had to make sure she hadn’t pulled out my plaything for her scene. Using my space was one thing. But using my toys? Unacceptable.

Luckily for Ashley, I found my toy safely locked in her cell where I’d left her.

Now I needed to make sure the woman was keeping her filthy pets off my good furniture.

Irritation prickling my skin, I strode into the larger studio. That was my stage, where I did all my filming and housed all my furniture.

Ashley stood behind her slave, who’d been bound to my handcrafted spanking horse, arms and legs draped and secured over each side, head drooping over the edge. Seeing that gave me an idea for a future scene. One that would come as soon as I rid myself of this cursed woman and whatever remained of her plaything when she finished up.

Her light-brown eyes locked onto mine. I read her contempt loud and clear.

I didn’t care if I interrupted her scene. She was in my place. I needed her to understand with every fiber of her being that despite the bullshit supervisor title, I was the boss around here. And I would be looking over her shoulder anytime she stepped a foot across my threshold, especially when she showed up unannounced and encroached on my time.

Her nameless plaything twitched in place, wheezing as it strained against the ropes holding it down. From this angle, I couldn’t tell if Ashley was working over a male or female. Not that it mattered much. They’d be dead by the end.

She must have thought she was pretty hot stuff. Once she saw me watching, she flashed a smile in my direction and circled around to the front of her toy. I wasn’t surprised by the comically large phallus strapped around her waist—just disgusted.

I couldn’t believe my studio was being wasted on this trash.

Ashley sauntered for the camera. Each step caused her false member’s heavy head to bob, the ultra-bright stage lighting catching every glistening inch.

Whatever she’s doing…it’s not art. 

Playing up every movement for dramatic flair revealed how much of an amateur she was. And the full-body catsuit she’d somehow squeezed herself into? Horrible choice.

Is she a dom or a damn clown? 

“Oh, there you are. Didn’t think you’d be in today.” She strolled to a table set just outside of the camera’s view. “The boss said I was free to work as needed.”

The nerve.

This was my personal studio space. While, yes, the boss managed the discreet disposal services and technically owned the building, he did not have the run of the place.

Everything in here was mine. My tools. My furniture. My cameras and equipment. Facts I needed to make crystal clear to this bitch before she became more of a problem than I was willing to deal with.

I gritted my teeth, somehow managing to keep my tone cool. “In the future, you need to make a formal request whenever you wish to use my studio space.” 

“Oh. I didn’t realize you owned the place.” A sly grin crossed Ashley’s face. “In that case, I guess I should speak to you about some care and maintenance issues.”

“How about you make sure to take proper care of my things, and we won’t have issues?” I needed to get out of there fast before I did something that might piss off the boss. “Clean up when you’re done. I have a scene of my own to film tonight.”

“I could help. That is, if you’re not too pigheaded to accept a little direction.” 

Fury burned through my system, but I managed to keep it out of my voice. “I make art. I don’t sink to the lowest common denominator of whatever the hell you’re trying to pull off with that ridiculous strap-on.”

She bared her teeth at me, and it took all my restraint not to knock them out of her face. “That’s fine. Make your art. I’m here to make what actually sells. That’s why I had to pop in today. I’m in such demand that the boss encouraged me to make more videos.” She gestured to my extensive and expensive array of finely crafted BDSM furniture. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a scene to finish.”

I rolled my eyes as she made sure the camera was tilted at just the right angle to capture her laughable attempt at art.

The cries of her plaything, mixed with the woman’s laughter, echoed all the way down the hall. 

Just like a woman to be so loud in such an obnoxious way.

And all those fucking lights. Everything was shiny and fake. It was as artistic as a child playing with Barbies. Plastic. Unimaginative.

Nothing like the gritty reality that I extracted from my subjects. I didn’t pamper or groom my props between scenes. They were left raw and exposed, showing the layers of welts and burns, the cuts and mud from their hopeless runs before I dragged them back to where they were belonged.

In front of my camera, posed just the way I wanted them. Obeying my every command.

I allowed the tension to rise organically. To build higher and tighter until it reached that exquisite pinnacle just before release. 

I badly wanted to let it loose on Ashley. Oh, how wonderful it would be to slice through that stupid bodysuit of hers. Lay her out naked, redden her skin, and flay the layers of ego away until all that remained was her broken spirit, raw and exposed under my lens. She would be nothing more than a crying, wailing, grunting prop, as she should’ve been.

If she even measured up to my standards. So few women did. That was why I’d taken my day job, to sort the dross out. I took only the best of the best to this private studio. They had to have spirit, layers, emotions. Things I could capture on my camera as I peeled them away.

My hands shook as I set about gathering the props for the scene I envisioned.

The release would be pure ecstasy. Fantastic footage. As soon as Ashley finished up and cleaned the damn mess she’d made in my studio.

6

“Perfect timing, girls.” Calysta Baros swung her apartment door open wide, her silvery shoulder-length hair swaying with the movement. “I’m just about done making breakfast.”

Sky’s mouth watered at the thought of one of Callie’s homecooked meals.

Pulling Callie in for a quick hug, Sky’s cheeks flushed hot. “I don’t want to say that we came because we smelled the food from my apartment, but…we came because we smelled the food from my apartment.”

Delia entered the small kitchen space and reached into the cabinets for plates and cups. “We’ll set the table.”

Coming over to Callie’s was like going home. Considering that Sky’s parents were in prison and she had no real home to go to, meeting and growing close to her neighbor had been a massive blessing.

Sky had spent many an hour snuggled up in Callie’s cozy living room, along with Delia, who often stayed over in the small yet cheerful spare bedroom.

“How was your weekend with your kids?” Sky opened the cupboard to retrieve glasses for the meal.

“Magnificent, even though the fish weren’t biting for me. Damian’s not the biggest fan of the outdoors, but he’ll do anything for his big sister. Including flying out to celebrate her birthday at the start of his final semester.” Callie beamed as she discussed her children.

“Did Penelope at least catch something?” Delia placed the silverware around the table.

“Two beautiful trout. I think she’s going to have one mounted. And what about you ladies? What have you been up to all weekend?” Callie sounded like an overprotective mother, which Sky found comforting. “I haven’t heard a peep from either of you.”

“We’ve just been hanging out. Nothing big.” Delia carried the plates to the table, the lie calmly slipping past her lips.

Sky squirmed where she stood, biting her tongue as she met Callie’s inquisitive gaze. “You know us. We’re not very interesting people.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Callie studied Sky for an uncomfortable moment before waving her into the kitchen with Delia. “Here I was leaving you alone, thinking you had a deadline, and you two are off having girls’ nights.”

Sky followed Callie to the counter, grabbing silverware and napkins. “You’ll be proud to know I did manage to get my pages turned in.”

“Excellent.” Callie plated an enormous omelet and handed it off to Delia. “Bacon is almost done.”

Just then, a hopeful meow sounded.

Right on time, Sugar Spice appeared. Callie’s tan-and-white cat wove a figure eight through Callie’s legs, putting her off balance for a split second.

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” Callie “accidentally” dropped a small piece of bacon as she worked to transfer the cooked strips from the cast-iron pan.

The bacon and the cat disappeared in a blink, though Sky had a feeling Sugar Spice would be back. Maybe with his feline cohort, the gray, longhaired, and equally mischievous Silver Streak.

Callie carried the bacon to her dining table. “Dig in, ladies.”

Sky didn’t have to be told twice, and neither did Delia. Plates filled with the delicious-looking breakfast spread. Despite the omelet’s enormity, it didn’t stand a chance of becoming leftovers.

“Did you girls have fun at your hang out?” Callie took a bite of fluffy eggs. “What’s the latest gossip?”

“Something has come up, but it might be better if we show you.” Sky toyed with her auburn ponytail. “We’re better as a team.”

Callie swallowed another mouthful of eggs. “I’m surprised you didn’t say anything the minute you two came in.”

“We didn’t want to bombard you right away. I mean, we don’t even really know a crime has been committed at this point.” Delia’s green irises flashed bright with frustration. “But dammit if this doesn’t feel like the same shit the Mill pulled.”

“Someone want to explain what the heck you’re talking about?” Callie’s brow furrowed at the mere mention of the horrible organization. “We got the Mill shut down a while ago. And none of my buddies in law enforcement have alerted me to any acquittals or reduced sentences. What do you have to show me?”

“Another model has gone missing.” Sky reached into her pocket and pulled her phone out. “There’s a video. It’s graphic. But we can’t decide if it’s staged or if it’s the real deal.”

Callie’s eyebrow arched. “How graphic are we talking?”

Delia eyed the phone as if it might bite her. “Torture and possibly murder.”

“Better let me see it, then. Maybe I can give you an idea of what we’re dealing with.” Callie gestured with her fingers for the phone, but her grim, tight-set expression told Sky she was dreading it.

As the video played out, neither Sky nor Delia watched along with Callie. Listening was bad enough. Kelsey’s hysterical screams pierced Sky’s eardrums, and she fought the urge to flee Callie’s apartment altogether before the footage finally came to an end.

“Well.” Callie pushed the phone away, visibly disturbed. “It’s exactly what you girls described, but far more depraved than I’d expected. Very hard to tell how real it was or if it was some extreme BDSM edge play, but the quality of the video and the angle it was shot at suggest a level of professionalism.” Her mouth twisted. “Not something I recall seeing in cases I worked. Most homemade porn was shaky cam work or underlit and grainy.”

“Delia’s worked with the girl before. A model named Kelsey Vinn, who, according to Nadine, hasn’t shown up to work in over a week.” Sky closed the video, taking special care to avoid actually viewing the screen, and locked her phone. “We’re not sure if the girl, Kelsey, just gave up modeling to make money in porn or if she’s actually being tortured and something like the Mill is back in action.”

“Let’s hope it’s not that.” Callie clenched her jaw. “I can’t give a definitive answer as to what we’re dealing with. At least, not without a little more information. Have you checked in with her friends and family? Is she missing or just skipping work?”

“Her roommate, Frankie, hasn’t seen Kelsey since our last big fashion show.” Delia looked down at her plate, worry etched on her fair face. “Apparently, she hasn’t paid rent for the month either.”

“We tried to call Kelsey’s mom. Real piece of work there.” Sky speared a forkful of egg. “Mom almost hung up on us at first. She and Kelsey had some falling out about her moving to New York. But when we mentioned Kelsey was missing, she took a hard left and started interrogating us about what we knew. So I think it’s safe to say Kelsey didn’t go home. Her mom is supposed to be calling NYPD to file a missing persons report this morning.”

“So we have a missing model and a suspicious video. Not much to go on.” Callie poured herself a glass of orange juice. “Where did the video come from?”

“It was sent to me from a fake email account. Just a jumble of letters and numbers as the sender. I shouldn’t have opened it.” Sky lowered her gaze to the table. “But the subject line was ‘This Will Be You.’ Sucked me right in.”

Callie set down her orange juice with so much force that some of the liquid splashed onto the tabletop. “‘This Will Be You?’” She pointed at Sky. “As in a direct threat to you? When were you going to share that part of the story?”

Sky held up her hands. “We talked about it. Javier was there too. I’ve pissed off so many people in the shadier parts of the fashion industry, it wouldn’t surprise me if someone was messing with me. Trying to scare me off.”

“Or it could have been a mass email just sent out to random addresses.” Delia pointed her fork at the phone. “Like all the other spam that constantly floods inboxes.”

Callie gave a violent shake of her head. “The woman being tortured works with Sky’s best friend.” She pointed at Delia. “You. That’s far from random. Fake or not, it wasn’t sent to Sky by accident.”

Fear for her own safety, which Sky had managed to keep in check since receiving the troubling email, now slid down her spine like an icy tendril. “Okay. So someone is basically warning me to back off. Again, not exactly a surprise.”

Folding her hands on the table, Callie locked her stern hazel gaze on Sky. “Maybe. Or they’re sending you a direct threat with the intention of following through. That’s not what you want to hear, but you have to consider it. We all do.” She waved her hand in a wide circle. “Have you talked to Sami yet? He could probably trace the email.”

Sky swallowed hard. “We planned to tell him today. After we talked to you.”

“Good.” Callie gathered her dirty silverware onto her empty plate. “And you said Javier already knows?”

“The three of us were together when Sky got the email.”

“He’s smothered in work, though.” Sky followed up the comment before Callie could ask more about the hangout. “I’ll keep him updated, but I’m not sure he has the time to launch into a full-on investigation with us.”

Callie nodded, her expression neutral. “Something tells me he’ll make time if this ends up being as serious as it sounds. I doubt he’s slept since you got that email.”

Sky opened her mouth to respond but closed it as her phone beeped and the screen lit up. “Oh, my god.” She swiped the device from the table, poking at the screen frantically. “There’s another video.”

Callie jumped up from her spot as she and Delia rounded the table to get a view of Sky’s screen.

The video was titled Kelsey’s New Position.

Sky pressed play without a moment of hesitation, torn between relief that Kelsey had been alive for another video to even take place and horror that this footage might contain even worse torture.

As with the first, the scene made Sky’s stomach churn. But she couldn’t help noticing again how the lighting and angles were too good for a homemade movie, just as Callie had pointed out. Whoever it was, they clearly had an eye for how to frame a shot.

Sky fixated on the man’s morbid red leather skull mask, but Callie pointed at the screen. “Look at his hand. Something is wrong there.”

“He’s wearing gloves.” Sky’s brows knitted together. “Was he wearing gloves in the first video?”

“Not that. Look at the ring finger. See how it flops as he lands the strike?” Callie paused the video and zoomed in before pressing play. “That’s not how a finger moves, especially if he’s gripping something. I’ll bet he’s missing a finger. Probably stuffed that spot in the glove so no one would notice.”

Sky’s jaw dropped. She punched Callie’s arm lightly. “No one but you and your damn eagle eyes. I never would have seen that.”

“You’re not supposed to notice. Whoever this is, they expect you to be watching the girl.” Callie cringed as the strike landed and Kelsey let out a moan. “Could be consensual BDSM. Could be nonconsensual torture. I wish I knew for sure which one it is.”

Sky sat back in her chair. “Why would anyone take part in something so painful on purpose?”

“A lot of people have their kinks.” In her years with the FBI, Callie had likely seen all manner of depravity. “At one point, I might have reacted the same as you, but BDSM has long since lost its shock value. Speaking of, I might know someone we can run this video by. If anyone can tell the difference between torture and edge play, she can.”

Delia’s head popped up, a flash of hopeful energy in her eyes. “Yes, please. Who is it? Where can we find her?”

And where did you find her? Sky bit back the inquiry.

“Let me make a few calls. I haven’t reached out to Emerald in years, and I need to see if she’s still a working mistress.” Callie headed for her bedroom. “You two finish up breakfast, and I’ll let you know as soon as I have an answer. If someone is misrepresenting BDSM as torture porn, there’s no doubt Emerald will lend us a hand.”

Sky met Delia’s gaze and, in unison, they both pushed their plates away. Their appetites had disappeared the moment the new video popped up on Sky’s phone.

7

“Are you sure this is really the place?” Sky studied the nondescript brick building. She’d expected neon signs with half naked women or window dressings with whips and chains. This place had nothing of the sort decorating its exterior. Tucked in between other mid-rise buildings on the primarily commercial street, the only thing that hinted at what lay within was a small bronze address plate labeled WC Club affixed to the heavy wooden double doors.

“This isn’t a strip club.” Delia nudged Sky in the back. “They’re not trying to lure in passersby on the street.”

“At least with a strip club, you know what you’re getting into. I don’t understand this lifestyle.” Sky walked to the door and held it open for Delia. “Let’s just find this Mistress Emerald lady and get the heck out of here.”

Thumping music filtered into the well-lit lobby. Definitely not what Sky had expected.

Delia headed straight toward the reception desk.

Sky stopped midway to the desk as she caught sight of a wall of paddles and floggers proudly displayed. A shiver ran down her spine as she imagined the sting upon her flesh.

Delia waved her over. “Get over here, Sky. You need to sign some paperwork.”

Behind the reception desk, a woman with straight brown hair, wearing a tightly cinched red-and-black leather corset, perched on the edge of her chair. She handed clipboards loaded with forms to both Delia and Sky.

Delia seemed unfazed by the amount of paperwork. She dove right in, filling in all the places that called for her signature and credit card information.

The only other place that required that amount of paperwork was a doctor’s office. And that was because they were protecting their asses. Liability from malpractice and all that. Sky was only here to speak to someone, not to take part in any of the kink, yet she was still required to fill out all her personal information. She forced herself to keep her irritation in check.

Behind them, a door opened, and music that had been muffled by the walls flooded the lobby.

The consent forms seemed endless. One of the pages had a list of rules.

“What the heck is scat play? They don’t mean…” Sky knew the word, but seeing it, even if it was in the don’t category, turned her stomach.

“That’s not allowed here, honey. Make sure you initial that section, okay?” The receptionist flashed a toothy smile without any hint of embarrassment.

Sky wondered how often the woman had to point out that kind of stuff. “Sorry. I’m new to all this.”

“That’s why every newbie goes through the paperwork and gets the tour before they’re let out to play. We want to make sure you’re aware of the rules, toys, and general practices.” She folded her hands on the desk in front of her. “When everyone understands what’s expected, we can all have a good time.”

There was no irony or sarcasm. The receptionist spoke with a reverence that piqued Sky’s curiosity.

Once she and Delia had filled out their forms, scanned their IDs into the system, and paid their entrance fees, the receptionist pointed them toward a black velvet sofa. “I’ll let Mistress Emerald know you’re here. She’s expecting you.”

Within moments, a woman emerged from behind the curtains. Leggy and slender, she was dressed in the most brilliant shade of green. The cut of her halter-style leather corset dress was equal parts business and sexy.

She held out her hand as she approached. “I’m Emerald. Or Mistress Emerald. Calysta told me the basic reason for your visit. I believe it’s a matter that would be best discussed in my office.”

Sky stood and stared at the sexy dominatrix as she shook her offered hand, admiring her shiny, copper-colored hair. Not a gray in sight, though she suspected Emerald and Callie were around the same age. However, Sky had never seen Callie in this type of face-framing, fifties style of pin curls. Everything about Mistress Emerald told the world she was an authority to revere.

“You can speak.” Emerald squeezed her hand warmly. “No one is going to hurt you here, despite what you might think. Rule number one is consent. Nothing happens here that you do not want to happen.”

Sky was so far out of her depth that words failed her. Delia, on the other hand, appeared to pull herself together. “We truly appreciate your time. Speaking in your office is fine.”

“Okay, then.” Emerald weaved through the lobby, waving for them to follow and leading them past the curtain behind the reception desk to a separate space.

The office was little more than a glorified closet. Racks of clothes and boots filled more real estate than the desk Emerald sat behind.

Emerald’s gaze flitted between Sky and Delia. “Callie mentioned some footage you came across. She said it seemed off to all three of you, and you were seeking my opinion on the matter. Is that correct?”

Sky cleared her throat. “Our friend was featured in a video. Activity similar looking to BDSM, but we’re thinking it was not the safe kind. Maybe you could help us figure out if we’re wrong and the footage is completely normal, or even who might be doing these…things…to her.”

Emerald tapped her long nails together. “If it’s consensual, that would violate our confidentiality policy, I’m afraid.”

Sky swallowed, Kelsey’s battered body flashing through her brain. “If you see the video, I doubt you’ll care much to keep it confidential.”

The mistress’s eyebrow arched. “Show me.”

Sky pulled her phone out and handed it to Emerald. “It’s graphic. Just warning you.”

Eyes widening, Mistress Emerald covered her mouth with her hand as she watched the entire scene. When the video ended, a minute of silence passed before Emerald handed the phone back to Sky.

“That is most definitely not BDSM. What that man is doing is torture.” Anger seeped out in her seething voice. “Unfortunately, I don’t recognize him. I’d remember a dom missing a digit.”

Wow. Callie isn’t the only one with an eagle eye.

“So you believe the video is real.” Sky had still been holding on to a shred of hope that the footage might be fake.

“It’s real, all right.” Emerald sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. “It sickens me to say it. Brutalizing that poor woman. You can see it in the overlapping mixture of old and new welts on her skin.” Her brows pinched together. “She’s not being cared for. And he pushes her pain threshold to the point of passing out. Sickening.”

Delia made a retching noise.

“Even the restraints he is using…” Emerald shuddered. “There is no care for the safety and comfort of the sub. Even in the most intense scenes, a good dom ensures the safety of his sub. You see how her skin is being rubbed against the raw wood on that pillory?”

Sky could barely find her voice to speak. “Yes.”

“If the equipment hasn’t been properly cleaned, there’s a risk of transmitting diseases. Even if it is clean, we’re talking splinters, skin damage, infections.” She shook her head, curling her lip in disgust. “There is absolutely no care given to the health and welfare of this poor girl. This is not BDSM. This is torture porn, plain and simple. And if it keeps going, God forbid, it will be a snuff film. Have you been to the police with this yet?”

“That’ll be our next stop. We just didn’t want to go to the station if the video was a fake.” Sky tried one last time to interpret the evidence a different way. “Are you absolutely sure it’s real? I’m not trying to argue with you, but when BDSM is mentioned to, say, someone like me, who knows nothing about it, I do tend to imagine…extreme scenes. It all sounds disturbing to me.”

Emerald tilted her head. “A little experience would go a long way to enlighten you as to just how mistaken you are.” Her eyes glittered as she studied Sky. “BDSM done right is enjoyable for all parties involved. Perhaps I could give you a little demonstration? If you’re up for it, of course.” She held her hand up. “Purely consensual. And incredibly educational.”

Sky’s mouth went dry. “Sure.” She choked out the word, barely recognizing her own voice and confused by the sudden intrigue sparked in her stomach.

“Excellent.” Emerald clapped her hands and stood. “Let me show you to our dressing rooms. Your clothes are fine, of course, but a bit vanilla for our patrons. We have a few outfits in our store if you’d like to purchase something more fitting. Just remember to change before you leave. We enforce a strict street-clothes-only policy when outside our doors.”

Makes sense. Like Delia said, they don’t exactly want to advertise and draw in the wrong crowd.

Callie had said this club was ultraexclusive. She’d only been able to get them inside because she had some personal connection with Mistress Emerald, the origin of which Sky fully intended to weasel out of her FBI mother figure at some point in the near future.

Sky refocused on the question at hand—to dress up or remain in regular clothing—shooting a panicked glance at Delia, who gave a small shrug.

“When in Rome?”

As a model, Delia was accustomed to dressing up in all sorts of gear. Sky understood her willingness to play along with the costumes.

But it did little to quell the anxious firestorm brewing in her own stomach.

Oh, shit. What in the world have I gotten myself into?

8

Sky eyed Delia in her chosen outfit, a figure-hugging leather zip-up corset dress with a frilled skirt and peekaboo holes at the hips that allowed her skin to show through. “You’re stunning. Not that I’m surprised. Is there anything you can’t model?”

Delia zeroed in on Sky’s full-coverage catsuit. “Really? I wouldn’t expect you to go full dom on your first visit.”

“What? Full what?” Sky self-consciously ran her hands down her front. “I picked this so I wouldn’t stand out as much.”

“Well, it’s backfiring, because you look hot.” Delia sashayed her way from the dressing room back into the lobby with Sky at her heels.

“Good choices, ladies.” The receptionist behind the desk clapped her hands once. “I’ll bill the credit cards on file for the outfits.”

That sentence startled Sky more than a little. She wasn’t exactly rolling in money. “How much?”

The woman winked. “Don’t worry…that one came from Amazon, so forty-nine ninety nine.”

“Forty-nine dollars?” Sky needed to be clear.

Another wink. “Wink. Of course, if you want real leather, that will⁠—”

“Nope, fake is terrific.”

“Perfect. I’ll take care of it for you.” The receptionist’s words faded into the background as Emerald approached them.

“Let me look at you.” There was something in the way the mistress spoke. The confidence and little twirl of her hand as she gave the direction had Sky obediently spinning in a slow circle before she realized she was moving.

“Lovely. Just lovely.” Emerald’s approval came through loud and clear. “Now it’s time for your tour.”

Unsure if she wanted one or why she’d ever agreed to any of this at all, Sky fell into step beside Delia.

“Rule number two.” Emerald held up two fingers, her sharp tone commanding Sky’s attention. “Confidentiality. Everyone here is indulging in safe and legal exploration of their sexuality. However, as our clientele is of an elite nature, they would prefer that what happens behind closed doors stays that way. Many choose to wear masks. If you would like to as well, we have some complimentary lace ones you can wear while here.”

She pointed to a bucket by the changing room door filled with individually packaged masquerade masks in every color.

Sky and Delia both grabbed a black lace variety and tied them around their heads.

It was then Sky realized they had been in the club for nearly an hour. All that time spent learning the rules and dressing appropriately. Tedious as it was, the club’s commitment to clearly communicating expectations spoke volumes about the establishment’s priorities. Maybe she’d been a little too closed-minded about this scene. Going forward, she promised herself, she would keep her mind open. No judgment.

The mistress pointed out all the signage in the lobby. Rules were posted everywhere stating what was and was not allowed. Some signs were color coded with safe words. Yet another sign listed the dungeon masters and what nights they were on duty.

Masters. The very word made Sky’s hackles rise, and she had to remind herself not to judge.

Once they had finished with the lobby, Emerald took them through one of several closed doors. Inside, the room glowed with blue-and-purple lighting. Couches bordered the walls, leaving enough space for two doors, one on each end. In the center of the room, thick folding mattresses were laid out with blankets. The music that had been loud enough to thump through to the lobby was completely silenced in this room.

“This is our aftercare room. A quiet place for coming down after the high of playing out a scene. While you’re allowed to come in here at any time, please be mindful of anyone else and keep conversations to a minimum.”

Emerald walked forward, heading to the door at the opposite end of the room. The moment she opened it, music flooded back in.

They passed through into the public dungeon.

Sky had already envisioned what she might find in here, but she never expected it to look so open. The word dungeon evoked a medieval vision of stone walls, dripping water, bars, and chains. While there were a few cages, they resembled the kind that clubs used for go-go dancers.

Three distinct areas were set up with couches in a square pattern. Socializing space.

Crack!

Sky jumped as the snap of a whip reverberated through the room.

Her head jerked to the left.

A woman dressed in a catsuit similar to Sky’s coiled her whip and sent it cracking once more. Her target was a man strapped to a heavy wooden cross.

The man winced with the third loud crack of the whip.

This was what Sky had expected. Torture.

But as the thought crossed Sky’s mind, the woman dropped the whip. Seeing she had caused her man more pain than he seemed pleased with, she closed in and began inspecting the spot where her whip had struck him.

“You ready to try out a little lashing?” Emerald’s voice prickled at the back of Sky’s head. “Who wants to be part of the demonstration?”

Delia gave her a little nudge. “You go ahead. I’ll watch.”

“I don’t…know.” Heart racing, Sky wrapped her hands around her torso, hugging herself as her nerves triggered a fight-or-flight response. “I just can’t understand why people would want to hurt each other.”

“Are you so sure they’re hurting each other?” Emerald pointed toward an oddly shaped bench. “Please. I won’t hurt you. But you can’t truly comprehend it without a little example. You’ll see. It’s not as bad as you think. And if it is, do you remember the safe word?

Signs were posted everywhere. How could Sky forget? “Red.”

“Correct. If at any time you need to stop, that is the word you use.” Emerald’s tone might have been domineering earlier, but as she made that last statement, it softened. “There is no judgment here. Red means stop. Period. Understand?”

Still nervous, Sky gave a quick, jerky nod. “Sure.” Knowing she could stop at any point gave her a little more confidence as she committed to the…experiment.

As they walked over to the empty bench, she noted that all the equipment was outlined in blacklight-reflective tape, giving each piece a well-defined border. It made sense with the public space, creating zones to play in and safe areas for those who wished to view.

Yet more attention to detail I wasn’t expecting when I walked in.

Emerald pointed to the padded bench. “I would have you lay yourself over the spanking bench and hold those bars down there for stability.”

“You okay with this, Sky?” Delia’s voice was soft, and Sky caught the undertone of concern.

Delia might have enjoyed picking out her BDSM costume, but she must surely have been grappling with memories of being in sexual situations where she had no control or guaranteed safety.

But Emerald said real BDSM is all about safety and comfort. I guess I’m going to find out just how true that is.

“I’m fine.” Sky lowered herself, knees resting on the padding, and bent forward, placing her chest and head against the top cushion. Letting her arms fall to either side, she found the grips and wrapped her fingers around them. The position wasn’t uncomfortable, but she was acutely aware of how her fake-leather-clad ass was out there for all to see.

“I have three instruments here for our little experiment.” Emerald’s voice faded as she walked away. With the loud music filling the room, it didn’t take much distance for her voice to be drowned out completely.

Sky sought the woman out and gulped as Emerald met her gaze.

“May I touch you?”

Aware that she could say no, Sky saw no point in backing out now. “Okay.”

A gentle hand caressed the skintight material of her catsuit, and though she was keenly aware of what was coming, Sky didn’t expect the shiver that ran all the way up her backside.

“Impact play is not always about punishments and pain.” Gently, the mistress stroked one cheek and then the other. Awkward as the sensation was, Sky couldn’t say it was awful. “Different levels of touch elicit different responses in our bodies.”

The gentle stroking was replaced with a single swat to her left butt cheek. While shocking, it wasn’t painful…but it kick-started Sky’s heart.

“Was that okay?” Emerald asked. “Are we green or red?”

“Yes.” Sky’s mind went blank. What color was what again? “Green.”

Swat.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Emerald.” Sky giggled, the combination of the surprising but not painful strike and Emerald’s demand for respect eliciting a unique sensation. “Green.”

“You will address me as Mistress Emerald.” She gave another swat to Sky’s ass, a little harder than the first one.

The sharpness of the strike sent Sky into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

“You see. Sometimes a little dominance with the impact play can be fun.” Emerald’s words were undeniably true, though Sky couldn’t quite understand why it worked so well. “Next we play with the cat-o’-nine-tails. Still green?”

“Yes, Mistress Emerald. Green.”

The moment the word left Sky’s lips, the tap-tap-tap of leather fingers came down on her backside. “When we are first starting out, we are gentle and vary our strokes to create many sensation points. Do you feel this?”

“Yes.” The word escaped Sky’s mouth in a breathy moan. The effect of all the strips of leather gently striking different spots on her butt was a sensation she couldn’t put into words. Sharper than a tickle, but gentler than a swat, each stroke felt a little too good. Her face heated.

“And you, Miss D.” Emerald’s voice was a little sharper. “From a distance, I suspect it looks like I’m beating your friend here?”

“I suppose it does.” Delia’s tone was calm. “But she’s not showing signs of distress.”

“There is a distinction to be made. Some people do like to experience a little pain. That is something they have worked out with their dom before any play beings. If I were to strike your friend here at full force without her indicating she would be okay with it, I would not only hurt her, but I would damage the trust she has in me.”

“So you’re in charge of doling out the sensations, but she’s in charge of the intensity?” Delia was a fast learner, and Sky was amazed by how untriggered she appeared to be.

Because real BDSM is the complete opposite of what Delia went through.

“Precisely. A good dom will always check in with their sub, especially when engaging in impact play. If the sensations are not enjoyable to the sub, then the play ends. Simple as that.”

Sky took a minute to catch her breath. She’d never expected to be excited by being whipped. It hadn’t been torturous at all, but there was something undeniably stimulating in the way those tails engaged her senses. She sat up and faced Delia and Emerald.

The mistress smiled as she stared down at Sky. “The flush on your face tells me you enjoyed that.”

“I guess I can see why people like some of this stuff.” Sky dropped her gaze, not wanting to look either of them in the face.

“Don’t say it like that. I will neither see nor hear any signs of embarrassment from you. Is that clear?”

Warmth still blazed up her neck, but the command of Emerald’s voice had Sky nodding in compliance. “Clear.”

“You tried something new and exciting. That was quite brave.” The mistress continued in that confident and commanding tone, urging Sky to stand up and face her. “Does it mean you’re going to become a sexual deviant? No. Allow yourself to accept it for what it was. A bit of fun.”

Mistress Emerald was right.

Sky had judged the whole BDSM world without having any concrete information to base her opinion on. She’d been wrong.

Standing, she offered her best attempt at a smile, despite the lingering tingles of embarrassment prickling her too-warm cheeks. She studied the other people playing on various equipment in the dungeon.

Some indulged in naughty nurse fantasies. Others were being wrapped up in ornately knotted ropes. One man was snuggling into a woman’s lap. He had the most serene look as his woman gently stroked his head like a puppy. No one here appeared to have any ill intent. The words safe, sane, and consensual were written all over the place. They were even weaved in through the murals painted on the walls.

This was nothing like the horrible cries of pain she’d seen in those videos. There was nothing safe, sane, or consensual about what was being done to Kelsey.

She turned to Mistress Emerald. “I’m really glad we came here today. You’ve given me a new perspective, and for that, I am extremely…” Sky’s mind stalled as she searched for the right word. “Thankful.”

“You now understand why I’m so certain the video you showed me was not BDSM.” Emerald tilted her head. “You see the difference, yes?”

“Clearly.” Sky gave a vigorous nod. “Kelsey is⁠—”

“In danger.” Delia finished the sentence for her.

Emerald’s lips turned down as if she’d experienced Kelsey’s pain through the screen. “You had better get that footage to the police quick. The poor girl is in danger of dying…if she’s not dead already.”

She was right. Maybe there was still a chance to save Kelsey’s life.

Sky’s stomach clenched at the unlikely possibility.

Even if we can’t save her, there’s always a chance to find justice for an innocent victim. And that is what we’re going to do.

9

“There she is. Right on time.” I watched Miss Mariela Navarro strut into the busy café. Any moment now, she’d pick a table on the patio, position her pastry of the day, and snap a picture of it. According to her social media profile, this was part of her morning ritual.

With all the likes and hearts fluffing her ego, she probably fancied herself a photographer too.

Amateur.

With good lighting and the myriad filters social media apps came with, it didn’t take much these days to doctor a picture. Might one day put me out of a job.

I snorted. If taking pictures was my livelihood, I’d be worried. Photography served a purpose, but it wasn’t a crucial player in my day-to-day finances. My filmmaking ventures were by far the more lucrative of my endeavors.

The café door opened, and as expected, Mariela stepped out. She carried a coffee in one hand and a plate of cinnamon rolls in the other.

Is that an extra side of frosting?

She would ruin her figure eating like that.

Then again, that was probably a good thing. Women who lost their sex appeal lost their power.

Mariela could stand to eat a few more of those cinnamon rolls. Then she’d be less dangerous to the rest of the male population. But if I had my way—and I would have my way—I’d have so much fun taking her power.

Women were such treacherous creatures. Especially the beautiful ones.

But they did make the perfect medium for my art.

Mariela was supposed to be my next canvas. She should have called.

My biggest disappointment this weekend.

I had her on the line. She was eating up all the compliments. I’d seen the excitement in her eyes.

If she’d called as I had instructed her to, she’d be bent over my spanking bench right now, not putting herself on display for all Lower Manhattan to see.

I bet she loved the attention.

Her posture, head held high, chest out, and that proud smile on her face said it all. She knew people were watching. She’d no doubt strategically chosen that spot, right at the edge of the patio. A place where she could be seen from either side of the street. Like her own personal stage.

Mariela was fully aware of the power her looks gave her.

How many men has she tormented with her beauty?

I’d have fallen prey for sure ten years ago.

That was exactly the trap that almost ruined me.

Focus on the present.

Mariela was my target, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her. I’d explore every inch of her perfect skin. Show her what it was like to have power slowly stripped to nothing as I stole away her soul, bit by beautiful, broken bit. Gave her a taste of all the pain she’d inflicted on others. Her penance would be my pleasure, and the exquisite scene of her transformation would show my boss why I was the best in the business.

And why I didn’t need a damn supervisor. Especially not a fucking idiot like Ashley Duncan.

I balled my hand into a fist. All the women I’d dealt with over the last few days were utter disappointments. My little plaything was damn near broken. Admittedly, I’d been a little rougher than I’d intended during our last session, but that was Ashley’s fault.

That woman vexed me most of all. Although she was more than deserving of punishment, I’d been denied the chance to dole it out. The boss loved that bitch.

I was sure her sole purpose at the warehouse was to rat me out for any little thing she deemed unacceptable. She’d probably already told the boss I wasn’t being cooperative. Soon enough, I’d no doubt hear from him.

And he’d get just as much of an earful from me too. Giving that woman carte blanche use of my personal studio. Encouraging her to produce that clown show of a snuff film.

No accounting for taste whatsoever.

I could deal with her producing trash. I could endure sharing my studio with her. But to make her think she had joint run of my productions? That was where I drew the line.

My heart was racing again. All my anger needed an outlet.

Mariela was right there. Easy picking.

I could lay on the charm, sweep her off her feet, suggest a walk, and disappear.

We could be at my studio within the hour.

My camera would love her. That creamy skin contrasting with the dark wood of my St. Andrew’s cross. She’d be absolutely gorgeous chained up.

The mental image sent my blood rushing south. Such a perfect canvas to work my magic on.

“I’ve got big plans for you, Mariela. I hope you’re ready.”

As I stepped off the curb, ready to head across the street and collect my new plaything, I spotted a man approaching her.

The horn of a passing taxi sent me jumping backward in time to avoid getting hit. My first instinct was to duck away to avoid Mariela seeing me, but the horn did nothing to pull her attention.

Beaming with a smile so wide I could see her teeth from the other side of the street, she welcomed this new man to sit with her.

She didn’t have a boyfriend. I checked when she failed to call the first night. My plaything had gone limp as a dead fish, and I was too restless to go home and sleep.

It wasn’t hard to track her down, really.

She’d said she was friends with the girls from the photo shoot I was working earlier that day. Girls had a habit of sharing everything on social media. Sure enough, there was a group shot with each one of them tagged.

Once I had her name and profile, her life was laid bare. Every photo, every vapid thought, and every lament about dating in NYC. She was single.

So who was this Ken doll, and why was he sitting with my new toy?

I checked her profile, but other than the breakfast shot of the day, she hadn’t made any new posts. No indications she was meeting someone special. Maybe he wasn’t special.

Or maybe he was her next conquest.

Taking her away from him would be a mercy to the poor bastard. I could stop her before she sank her claws in too deep.

Still, I couldn’t steal her away with a witness present. I might have had needs, but I understood the value of patience. I cast one last glance at the little beauty before walking away.

Thanks to her social media profile, I had all the information I needed about Mariela and her daily activities. She would be mine soon.

10

Sky pushed open the entry to Hayat Investigations, holding the door while Callie and Delia entered the front lobby. “Hopefully Sami’s not too busy today. He gave me the week off to catch up on my writing, and here I am, showing up to bother him with a new case.”

In a bustling city like Manhattan, there was never a shortage of potential clients. For all Sky knew, Sami was smothered with work.

“We’re all showing up to bother him.” Delia nudged Sky with a smile. “And if my boyfriend isn’t happy to see me, I might have to take it personally.”

The genuine sweetness in Delia’s voice was a welcome change from her earlier distress. Sky figured the PTSD came in waves—personal experience told her this was possible—and the anticipation of seeing the man Delia loved was seemingly working to calm the tides of trauma.

Callie’s silvery hair swayed as she waved a large brown bag in the air. “Let us not forget that we come bearing gifts.”

Sami rounded the corner, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of the three women. “Well, this is an unexpected treat. Is that the heavenly scent of fresh-baked bagels I smell?” Rushing past the reception desk to greet his girlfriend, Sami blew by Sky, Callie, and the bagels as well.

“Babe. Hi.” Delia’s soft voice made Sky move faster toward Sami’s office. There was about to be a shower of PDA, and as great as that was for Delia and Sami, it often only reminded Sky of the fact that she was alone. By choice, of course.

Callie moved just as quickly beside her, stopping when they reached the office doorway and gesturing for the lovebirds to follow. “Are you two coming?”

“Do we have to?” Sami’s response elicited a chuckle from Sky. “Whenever you show up with food, especially this early in the morning, it’s usually a harbinger of doom.”

Callie was already slicing a blueberry bagel in half on the small round table in Sami’s office. The heavenly aroma had Sky’s mouth watering in anticipation as the couple joined them.

At six-two, Sami was only four inches taller than Delia. His jet-black hair—now approaching his shoulders because he’d been letting it grow since leaving the military around two years ago—and dark eyes, so brown they were nearly black, complemented Delia’s willowy frame, ebony bob, and emerald gaze. The pair was stunning to behold, and Sky wondered just how soon he’d be putting a ring on Delia’s finger.

Sami raised an eyebrow. “Seriously. Do I want to know why I’ve been blessed with your presence?”

Callie’s voice was neutral, leaving no hint of what they were about to present to Sami. “You want schmear or jam?”

That question distracted him for a moment. “Schmear, of course. I’m not an animal.” He rounded the desk and took his seat, glancing among all three women. “What’s the case?”

“You remember the Mill?” Sky took the reins while Callie slathered a healthy amount of cream across the toasted surface of the bagel and plated it for Sami. “What we’re dealing with might or might not be the same people, but the M.O. is eerily similar.”

Sami’s brow furrowed. “Of course I remember. Who could forget an entire gentlemen’s club of rich perverts dedicated to turning models into prostitutes?” He reached for his bagel and paused. “We have any suspects?”

“That’s what we’re hoping you’ll be able to find out. We need your computer skills.” Plating her own bagel, Callie took the seat opposite Sami.

“Another model is in serious danger.” Delia gulped down her obvious anxiety. “We think.”

“The model who was targeted was a friend of Delia’s. Kelsey Vinn. And so far, I’ve been sent two extremely brutal videos featuring Kelsey.” Sky shook her head, her gaze drifting toward the food in her hands.

“You received videos?” Sami pushed his plate away, zeroing in on Sky. “Why you?”

Delia twisted her fingers together. “That’s one of the things we’re trying to figure out. The first video Sky got was titled⁠—”

“‘This Will Be You.’” Sky finished the sentence for Delia, who’d squeezed her eyes shut as she spoke.

Sami’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “What? That’s an actual direct threat.” He leaned toward Delia. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have been there in a heartbeat if you’d called.”

“Hey.” Delia crossed the office and planted a kiss on Sami’s forehead. “That last case was a lot, and you needed time to heal too. I didn’t want to bother you with this until we had to, and Sky has been right here with me the whole time.”

Though Delia neglected to mention the part of the story where her own fears had been triggered, what she said was true. The last case, which involved a pedophile kidnapping young girls, had dredged up a lot of raw feelings for Sami, reminding him of the crimes done to his own sister.

He’d told Sky he’d found some semblance of peace with the situation, but even so, he needed to care for his reopened emotional wounds.

“Delia and Sky only came to me yesterday.” Callie bypassed Sami’s frustrations and kept the conversation flowing. “My first thought was BDSM. A very edgy form of it. But the girls took the video down to my old friend Mistress Emerald, and she says the contents of the video are definitely not BDSM. Emerald believes it’s straight torture porn.”

“She also believes it could turn into something worse.” Sky remembered the stern warning and the intensity of Mistress Emerald’s stare. “A snuff film. She thinks this masked man torturing Kelsey intends to kill her.”

Sami grabbed Delia’s hand, giving it a squeeze. No doubt his mind was drifting back to the early days of his relationship with Delia. To the time she’d been brutally beaten and raped.

I’m sure he’s thinking exactly what I am. For Delia to be here now, trying to help another woman when the subject matter hits so close to home, is amazing. Delia has so much strength inside her.

Delia returned Sami’s squeeze and resumed her seat on the small sofa next to Sky. The bagel on the model’s plate sat uneaten, just like Sky’s and Sami’s. Food was usually their go-to coping mechanism when faced with a troublesome case. But this time felt different. Personal.

“So do we have the video?” Sami shifted gears, flexing his jaw as he prepared himself to see the horror that had brought them together.

Sky dug her phone from her crossbody bag and sat it on Sami’s desktop with the screen unlocked. “I received both videos by email.”

“Email is good. Most emails are traceable. That might give us an easy way to locate the sender.” Sami swiped at Sky’s device.

“But the sender might not be the killer,” Callie interjected, leaning back in her chair as though she couldn’t get far enough away from the scene about to play out. “We can’t forget that.”

The office fell silent as Kelsey’s screams filled the air. Delia kept her head down, her face turned away from the screen. Sky was positive it took all Sami’s resolve to not look away, but she knew that if there was a clue, he would find it.

Still, as the video reached the point when Kelsey’s eyes rolled back into her head—the moment when the shrieks of agony stopped—and her rapist continued to beat and drive himself into her, Sami set the phone down.

Sweat beaded on his brow. “I’ve seen enough. The damn mask is a huge problem as far as finding our guy goes, but we’re going to find him, dammit. Whoever this man is, he’s completely deranged. A monster. And if someone else is helping him or sending out the videos, we’ll find that bastard too.” He paused, venturing a glance around the office. “You said the second video was more of the same?”

“Yes. Did you notice anything?” Callie’s tone was calm, a contrast to Sami’s raw nerves. “I spotted that his left ring finger is fake. Looks like he stuffed the glove to fill it out.”

“I noted that. But with nearly every inch of his body covered with clothing, it’s impossible to nail down any defining features.” Sami didn’t mention the obvious stretch of skin that had been all too visible. “We can’t see tattoos or scars. He doesn’t move around enough to even show if he has something as simple as a limp.”

The barely contained anger in Sami’s voice matched the quiet fury rolling around in Sky’s stomach. Any human with a working heart who viewed those videos would be repulsed and enraged. The cruelty was unthinkable. Impossible to process.

After taking a few calming breaths to regain his composure, Sami cleared his throat and hunted around his desk for a notepad and pen. “You said the victim’s name is Kelsey?”

“Kelsey Vinn.” Delia reached into her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I wrote down everything I know about her. She’s one of Nadine’s models.”

Taking the paper, Sami unfolded it and read all the information written in Delia’s neat handwriting. Sky had assisted Delia in brainstorming information and knew she’d included damn near everything a P.I. could possibly want, from a physical description to Kelsey’s parents’ names and phone numbers.

“This is perfect.” Sami flipped his laptop open, clicking rapidly at the keys. “I’m starting with a search for Kelsey’s social media accounts. Some people are addicted to posting every detail of their lives, and I’ve found it the best source for information gathering, especially in missing persons cases.” He glanced up at them. “Sadly, many victims are often close to or at least acquainted with the person who’s abused, kidnapped, raped, or otherwise harmed them.”

Sky rounded the desk to get a better look at the process, unable to sit still on the couch any longer. Delia followed suit, and they leaned over Sami’s shoulders as he dug into Kelsey’s life.

Sure enough, Kelsey fit the stereotype. Until about a week ago, she’d posted multiple times a day. No mundane detail of her activity was spared. And by the looks of it, her followers responded well to most of her posts.

“A rising star, for sure. Over half a million followers.” Sami pointed at the impressive number. “I couldn’t imagine having that many people peering into my life. I made a page for Hayat Investigations, but I’m lucky if even one person tosses a like my way.”

“Hey, I’ve put tons of effort into the whole online following thing.” Sky hated admitting this fact almost as much as she hated the necessity of social media in her career. “And I’ve got a fraction of the people Kelsey had peeking into her life every day. She was really going places.”

Delia stiffened beside her, and Sky winced.

Was. I used past tense. Like Kelsey is already dead.

Sami scrolled through the comments on her recent posts. There were the usual suspects. Trolls, haters, fawns, fangirls. A few offering to send her dick pics.

Sky didn’t want to know how many followed through, sliding their flaccid and wrinkled junk into Kelsey’s DMs. She shuddered to think of what that must be like, constantly receiving vile images and indecent proposals. It wasn’t that people who lived public lives deserved it, but Sky had learned there was a certain wisdom in censoring what the larger public had access to.

“Anything interesting? Or suspicious?” Callie took another bite of her bagel.

“Other than her not posting anything for over a week, no.” Sami checked Delia’s list again. “Going to try tracing her cell next.”

Callie licked cream cheese off her finger. “Just because the last guy was stupid enough to save the phones doesn’t mean every criminal out there is an idiot.”

The statement couldn’t have been truer. The pedo who’d kidnapped teenage girls had lacked the wisdom to dispose of their phones, and this mistake had led to his undoing.

“Let me have my moment of optimism, will you?” Sami scrunched up his face, focused on the task at hand.

“If the asshole is that dumb, it makes our job that much easier.” Sky gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Callie was right, of course. The chances of another criminal making an identical misstep were astronomically low. One of their little team would probably win the lottery before lucking out like that again.

“I’m using the number Delia gave me to run a reverse lookup to match the IMEI with the cell service provider.” Sami narrated his activity as he started his search. “Now I’ve got the IMEI, and I’m inputting it into my scanner.”

Right. Sure. I understood every bit of that fancy private-investigator-computer jargon.

He scowled as the results came back. “Dammit.”

“Let me guess. Phone stopped pinging about the same time she stopped posting online?” Callie’s defeated tone said she’d been clinging to that unlikely hope too.

“I can load the triangulation information from the last known pings into another database. The resulting location might give us a clue to where Kelsey was taken.” Sami rubbed his temples. “But the margin for error is miles wide, and there’s no way we could be sure, in a densely packed city, where the signal originated. So really…that’s just another dead end.”

“Hey now.” Callie’s firm voice made all three of them snap to attention. “Phone location letdown aside, you’ve still got the email tracing to do, and that’s probably our best bet anyway. We knew that going in. I want you to dive into that tracking process, and the girls and I will head over to the precinct.”

Sky attempted to ignore the flipping sensation in her stomach at the thought of meeting up with a certain detective.

I practically ghosted Dante. I don’t get to flip my stomach over him anymore. Pull your shit together.

Callie stood, wiping crumbs from her pants. “You ready?”

Straightening her posture, Sky opened her mouth to speak.

“Wait.” Sami held up a hand. “Before you go, let me get a clone of your phone. The cops are going to want to see it, but cloning it will give me the access I need to the videos and the information required to trace the email.”

Sky handed her phone over to Sami, and he went to work creating a duplicate of the device on his spare drive.

“After we chat with the police, maybe I’ll give my pals at Cyber Crimes a call too. Wouldn’t hurt to get them in on this investigation.” Callie shouldered her purse and walked toward the door, dumping her empty paper plate in the garbage. “If you find anything interesting, Sami, let us know immediately.”

“Of course.” A notice popped up on Sami’s screen. He unhooked the device and handed it back to Sky. “Clone complete. One more question, though. Does Javier know anything about this yet? I haven’t heard from him in a few days.”

“He’s aware of the situation, but he’s swamped with preparation for Fashion Week,” Delia explained, bypassing exactly how Javier had become privy to the first email and saving Sky the trouble once again.

“That sounds about right. Maybe I’ll reach out to him later.” Sami’s expression stayed neutral. “Here’s hoping the cops get all hands on deck after seeing those videos. That masked maniac needs to land his ass in prison and never see the light of day again.”

Sky’s lips were a grim line. “We’ll do what we can from our end.”

Turning around as Delia and Sami said their sweet and mildly irritating goodbyes, Sky locked gazes with Callie. “We’re going to nail this guy, right?”

Callie put her arm around Sky’s waist and propelled her forward. “We always do, doll.”

11

Callie held the door open for Sky and Delia to enter the Eighteenth Precinct building. “Let’s hope Detective Dante Houghton is in a good mood.”

“Or willing to talk to us at all.” Sky couldn’t help the sardonic comment from passing her lips. Her hot-and-cold experience with the detective—outside of investigations—had left her cynical and a tad bitter where he was concerned. Though if she were honest, Sky was partially to blame. She’d given him mixed signals as much as he’d given her.

Delia looped an arm through Sky’s. “You’re telling me that dumbass still never asked you out? Or at least explained why he turned to stone for no apparent reason?”

“No…I mean, yes. He asked me out to dinner, and I brushed him off. I thought he wanted dinner in exchange for information. I was completely wrong about that, but he caught me off guard, and I just…” Annoyed with herself for not handling things better, Sky couldn’t keep the edge from her tone. “I’ve only spoken to him about case-related things for weeks now. Which is probably for the best.”

“His loss,” Callie declared, leading the way across the lobby.

Delia nodded vehemently. “Damn straight.”

The detective in question surprised them, crossing through the lobby before they could even reach the reception desk. Detective Dante Houghton did a double take, jaw dropping for a moment before regaining a more pleasant expression. “Ms. Baros. Ms. Stryker. Ms. Shaw. You keep showing up like this, and we’re going to have to put you three on the payroll.”

While Sky could appreciate the good humor that Dante volleyed their way, the sight of his attractive face sent instant irritation through her veins. Tall with wavy black hair and dark-brown eyes, the dashing detective added insult to injury, grinning directly at her and showing off the stupid-cute dimple in his left cheek.

Callie let out a hearty laugh. “You can’t afford us. You know that.”

“You’re probably right.” He considered the three of them, eyebrows raised. “Anyhow, it’s nice to see you again. To what do I owe the pleasure? Or perhaps I can grab someone for you. Were you meeting with⁠—”

Still taking the lead, Callie held up a hand. “You. We’d like to speak with you, assuming you have the time.”

“I suppose I have a few minutes.” He gave a laugh that sounded weak and forced, and Sky noticed how he avoided her gaze. “Come on back. Let’s hear what you’ve got for us this time.”

Dante tipped his head at the officer staffing the reception desk. She buzzed them in, and he stepped through the main door and held it open for them pass. Sky edged past him with as much nonchalance as she could manage, reminding herself that as of late, her mind had been on someone else.

You know who doesn’t make me feel nervous and awkward? Javier. The guy who is every bit as handsome as Dante. And sweet. And kind.

Goose bumps rose on her arms, and suddenly, dealing with the detective seemed a much less daunting task.

“I’m afraid you missed the morning’s donut run. But we have some coffee if you’re interested.” Dante led them down the hallway toward the empty interview rooms.

“I think we’re fine right now.” Callie answering for all of them didn’t bother Sky for a second. Her appetite had once again abandoned her for multiple reasons.

The precinct buzzed with life. Nearly every desk in the open-air office was filled with officers and detectives. A city the size of Manhattan always kept its finest on their toes.

Sky wondered if the Bureau had been that way as well, if being here made Callie wish she were back in service. The retired agent had mentioned many times that nothing beat the satisfaction of bringing a criminal to justice, but Sky was aware Callie had sacrificed a lot of herself in fulfilling that pursuit.

She’d missed too many of her kids’ soccer games, baseball practices, and karate tournaments. She openly blamed her multiple failed marriages on the fact that the Bureau was the true love of her life.

As if to prove that, here she was, alongside Sky and Delia, searching for justice once again. Callie could take herself out of the Bureau, but there was no taking the Bureau out of Callie. Investigation was in her blood.

That’s why she dives headfirst into these cases with us. It’s who she is.

“This should be private enough.” Dante entered the chosen interview room, ushered them inside, and closed the door. He settled in a chair and waved at the other empty ones. “Make yourselves comfortable. And let me know if you change your mind about that coffee.”

Sky pulled out her phone and set it down on the table between them before dropping into a seat. “We have something you need to watch.”

“Hope your stomach is strong enough to handle it.” The sincerity in Callie’s voice clarified just how serious the situation was.

Dante raised an eyebrow at Sky. “What kind of trouble have you slammed into this time, Ms. Stryker?”

Why he couldn’t just call her Sky was beyond her, but if Dante wanted to keep things professional—and he’d clearly indicated as much, multiple times over—Sky would meet him on his turf. “Well, Detective Houghton, I didn’t go seeking out more problems, but I recently received two upsetting videos. They are beyond disturbing and feature one of Delia’s model friends at Barret Model Management. Kelsey Vinn. Heard of her?”

“Nope.” Dante gave a polite shake of his head to Delia before refocusing on Sky.

“Are you sure?” Sky persisted, convinced Mrs. Vinn would have called in about her daughter by now. “You might already have a missing persons case started for her. Again, her name is Kelsey Vinn.”

“I’ll have to check on that one. Might be another precinct, but the name hasn’t crossed my desk.” Clicking the end of his pen, Dante picked up his notepad and started writing.

Sky sent a nervous glance to Callie. “They haven’t opened a case? Kelsey has been missing for over a week.”

“That doesn’t mean a case hasn’t been opened yet. Relax.” Callie’s calm tone did little to slow the wheels turning in Sky’s head. “This isn’t like New Pleasant. There are a lot of precincts covering Manhattan. Whoever Kelsey’s mom called would have been the one to get the ball rolling.”

“Don’t worry. If there’s a case open for Kelsey, we’ll make sure to share the information with that detective.” Dante glanced up from his writing. “But go on. Show me what you’ve got.”

Sky unlocked her phone and swiped until her inbox came front and center. “This was the first.” She pointed at the subject line and scrolled. “There’s the second.”

“Wait.” Dante grabbed the phone, swiping and jamming a finger at the screen. “The title of that email is ‘This Will Be You.’ That sounds like a threat. What exactly do these videos contain?”

From the corner of her eye, Sky caught Delia’s cringing expression.

Callie tucked a stray silver strand behind her ear. “They’re absolutely brutal. Right up there with snuff films.”

“You know, a lot of the time those things are just gory, sensational fakes.” Dante set down his pad of paper. “Many an officer’s been sent on a wild-goose chase that ultimately led nowhere over these types of cinematic foolishness. Actual snuff films are rare.”

Sky crossed her arms, rigid in her chair. “The two I received aren’t technically snuff, assuming she’s still alive at the end of the second one. But at the rate this guy is going, Kelsey’s liable to be dead soon. Rare or not, these might become the exceptions to that ‘most of them are fake’ rule.”

“If it goes any further, yes.” Callie jabbed her finger at Sky’s phone. “We’ve seen two videos so far featuring Ms. Vinn. Even if they aren’t snuff, the things being done to that girl are absolutely illegal.”

“I hate to ask, but could it be domination stuff? Are we sure it’s not just really convincing bondage play?” Dante’s cheeks reddened. “I’ve seen those freaks with the whips and dog collars get up to some seriously disgusting things. They claim it’s all consensual. And as long as both parties are willing participants and no one is complaining, the law has no place where that is concerned, regardless of our personal opinions.”

“Oh, she is definitely complaining.” Kelsey’s shrieks rattled through Sky’s brain. “And there is no way this is consensual. See for yourself.”

Dante refocused on the phone, and Sky turned her head away as if the scene might reach out and grab her.

No one should have to watch that, let alone endure it. Poor Kelsey. The suffering is unthinkable.

As with all others who witnessed the horrors of what Kelsey was put through, the color drained from Dante’s face as the scene played out on the tiny screen. When Kelsey’s screams finally died, he set the phone down, shoving the device back across the table as if he couldn’t get far enough away from it.

His complexion took on a greenish hue, as if he were about to be sick. He pressed one hand to his forehead and leaned into it, propping his elbow on the table for support as he scribbled something in his notepad with his free hand. “I have to agree.” He dropped his pen and tugged at his collar. “None of that appears consensual.”

“And that’s just the first video.” Sky pressed her lips together.

Dante gulped hard and shook his head. “I don’t need to see more, but we’ll need to get a copy of both videos. You know how it works. We have to check into every lead and verify it.”

“Maybe give the Cyber Crimes team a call.” Callie pushed the phone back toward Dante. “Agent Luis might be interested in following the email trail it’s attached to.”

The detective nodded, peering at Sky before reclaiming the device. “Mind if we keep it for a few days? Evidence processing can be slow.”

Sky was glad Sami had cloned the phone before they came down to the precinct. She wasn’t sure what life without her cell looked like, but if anything, it might be a welcome bit of quiet. Either way, she could access the internet on her laptop, and her friends could contact her through Callie, who was always just down the hall. “Sure. Just let me know when your people are done with it.”

“Of course.” Dante picked up the phone. He pinched it between his fingers, holding it like a smelly diaper as he stood. “I’ll let the tech team know it needs to be returned ASAP.”

Callie tapped Sky on the shoulder and glanced toward the door before getting up. “You ready?”

Sky’s mouth gaped in confusion. “That’s it?”

Dante reached the door and held it open for them with his free hand. “Were you expecting us to solve the case today?”

Shoulders slumping, Sky sighed. “No. I just thought maybe⁠—”

“This is what I want you to think about.” Dante’s demeanor steeled over. “The first email subject line was a direct threat to you. I’m not sure you fully understand that. You shouldn’t be alone right now. Stay with a friend or have a friend stay over. Be vigilant.”

Despite her fear-filled heartbeat pounding in her ears, Sky couldn’t deny the charge of defiance his commands stirred up. “It’s like you almost care.”

“Sky, I…” He let his words hang in the air, distress furrowing fine lines across his forehead.

She held his gaze, challenging him to finish the sentence as Callie and Delia froze.

Seconds ticked by.

Nothing. Of course.

“I’ll be careful.” Sky dipped her chin. “Just find Kelsey. Quickly.”

“We all want to sort this out as fast as possible.” Callie reached out and squeezed her shoulder, no doubt trying to smooth over the moment of tension. “I think, Detective Houghton, between your team here, my old buddies in Cyber Crimes, and Sami, we will find her.”

Hopefully before it’s too late.

Sky kept the thought to herself as Dante cleared his throat. “About that hacker friend.”

“Private investigator,” Callie corrected him. “He is licensed.”

“Right.” His tone teetered on the edge of snark, but he reined in the reaction. “Make sure he legally obtains any information that will be shared with us. We were cutting it pretty close on that last case.”

Nodding, Callie stepped out into the hallway. “Understood.”

Sky lumbered after her, dejected and more than a little embarrassed that she’d allowed her personal feelings to enter the conversation even for a moment. She avoided Dante’s eyes as they made their way back to the lobby.

“You did good.” Delia threw an arm around her as they approached the front doors. “And with any luck, by the time we get back to Sami’s, he’ll have some new trail or lead for us to follow.”

Sky wasn’t too sure there would be much of anything to follow. And even if there was, as beaten down as Kelsey appeared by the end of the second video, she might already be dead.

But there was no way she would say that to Delia.

12

Tuesdays at Guillermo De Luca, like every other day of the week, were never exactly quiet. But with Fashion Week just ahead of them, the team was operating at a frantic pace compared to the rest of the year, and Javier was exhausted.

Carrying a steaming mug of coffee, he strolled down the hallway toward his office. ’Most everyone had already come in for the day. He nodded as he passed the offices for various department heads, offering a casual, “Good morning,” to the assistants scurrying in and out of the doors.

At the end of the hall, the elevator opened.

Brilliant red hair caught his attention. Javier stopped in his tracks as Ashley Duncan strode onto the floor. The color was so shocking, it stole the focus away from the woman’s face, and he barely recognized her.

Ashley’s heels clicked against the tile floor as her formerly honey-colored tresses swung out behind her.

Stunned into silence at the shock of her audacious transformation, Javier realized that Ashley was aiming for multiple shock factors as she approached.

Dressed in a figure-hugging black power suit, Ashley had omitted a shirt—strategically, no doubt—and the two-button blazer alone gave her a plunging neckline sure to create HR issues.

“Morning, Ja…er…Mr. Bainbridge.”

He shook himself, focusing on the wall to avoid the hypnotic bounce of her chest as she walked toward him. “Hair. Wow, red.”

“You like it? My stylist said it’s going to be the hottest color this season. And you know we have to be on top of the fashion trends.” She stopped in front of him and reached out to tousle his hair with a snicker. “You should consider a new style too. I’ll give you my stylist’s number. Red’s not your color, but you’d be hot with a deep blue.” Pulling her hand free of his hair, she gazed into his eyes as she stroked her index finger down his cheek.

What the actual hell?

Hips swaying, she turned and strutted down the hallway without so much as a look back.

Stunned by her attitude, Javier stood, mouth agape, as she disappeared into her office. He lifted his hand to touch the spot where her finger had grazed his cheek. He could still feel the violation of her touch, lingering like a ghost. What had possessed her to do that?

She’d been aggressively flirty in the past, but she’d never dared to touch him. And his face, at that.

Don’t engage. Just walk back to your office.

Despite the voice of reason in his mind, Javier couldn’t help himself. He had to at least give her a warning. She’d been pushing the boundaries of what was acceptable, and this was too far.

Steaming coffee in hand, he took a gulp, hoping the fresh infusion of caffeine would wake his mind and fortify his resolve. Dealing with Ashley was never pleasant, and this time promised to be worse than any other. Mentally preparing for battle, Javier marched down the hall toward the vice president of operations’ office.

Lupita Franco, Ashley’s assistant, approached in the hallway. She was hugging a packet of files, manila envelopes, and fabric samples to her chest. “Everything okay, Mr. Bainbridge?”

“It will be. Do you mind accompanying me? I’d like a witness when I speak with Ms. Duncan.”

Her dark eyes grew wide as saucers. “Of course.”

“I appreciate it.”

Having Lupita with him as he admonished Ashley would prevent the entire office from hearing what was going on while still maintaining propriety.

Javier knocked on the doorframe of Ashley’s office. “Excuse me, Ms. Duncan. A word.” Stepping inside after Lupita, he pulled the door shut.

Ashley leaned forward and set her elbows on the desk. The move pushed her breasts forward, offering him a lascivious view of her cleavage. “Something wrong, Mr. Bainbridge?”

“Are you aware GDL has a strict no-harassment policy?” He kept his voice as neutral as possible.

“Is this in regard to the internet business you brought up last week?” Her reply landed somewhere just below snarky, but to an outsider, it might sound casual.

Javier knew better. “I’m referring to inappropriate physical contact, like what just happened in the hallway back there.” And then there was the incident of catching her watching porn at work.

Lupita fidgeted beside him.

“Whatever do you mean, Mr. Bainbridge?”

“You dragged your finger across my cheek.” He already regretted his decision to speak to her, but the conversation had started, so he couldn’t stop now. “Your behavior lately has been erratic. Your attitude in dealing with other departments has been combative. And that video⁠—”

“I told you already. That was for an advertising campaign.” She popped up from her seat. Her ruby-red lips curled into a sneer. “It wasn’t actionable, so I deleted it. Not something GDL could handle.”

A file folder hit the floor with a thud, and Lupita mumbled an apology, stooping to pick it up.

“Don’t make me add disparaging the brand to the list of offenses.” Javier had spoken with the visual media department already. They’d never heard of the campaign Ashley claimed she was watching. “Whatever is going on with you, deal with it. Before I do.”

She narrowed her fawn-colored eyes at him. “And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”

“Despite what you might think, being the vice president of operations doesn’t exclude you from following the rules every other employee in this company is required to abide by. I have been as forgiving as I can be up to now. This is your final warning.” He met her gaze, aware that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. “Any further infractions, and I will have you suspended pending an investigation by HR.”

Javier turned to leave, and the assistant started to follow.

“Stay here, Lupita. If it’s okay with Mr. Bainbridge.” Ashley’s authoritative tone carried a mocking edge to it. “I’d like to get started on my work for today.”

Ignoring Ashley’s remark, Javier faced the assistant. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sir.” Lupita ducked her head meekly, hiding behind her dark, wavy hair, but Javier caught a hint of mischief in her expression.

Could be nothing. Or it could be the same spark that had been in Ashley’s eyes when she realized Nadine was on her way out. One certainty in the fashion industry was that someone always had their sights set on the next ladder rung.

Not that he could blame Lupita.

But it did raise an important point Javier hadn’t considered. If he made good on his threat and followed through with the suspension, which would ultimately lead to her termination, he would need to find Ashley’s replacement.

As he let the thought sink in, Javier walked back to his office. Maybe he should research the assistant, Lupita. See what qualifications she had. At least in the interim, she might make a good replacement.

That was, of course, if Arthur Hurley didn’t veto the whole thing. Ashley must have gotten her claws in deep with him. She hadn’t been qualified to begin with, in Javier’s opinion, yet Arthur had made the call to promote Ashley to her current position.

Javier’s cell phone rang, pulling his thoughts back to the present. He picked up the device from his desk. Seeing Callie’s name flashing on the screen, a jolt of panic shot through his body.

He’d asked Sky to keep him updated on the investigation into the videos she’d received but hadn’t heard much of anything. And now Callie was calling instead.

What happened?

Javier was aware of the rules when it came to Sky, and he’d tried to not harass her too often since their last movie night. Personal space, even in the midst of investigating a hellish torture-porn video showing up on her phone, was important to Sky.

One of her Sky-isms. Ignore at your own risk.

His sleep had been complete shit, but he’d respected the boundaries that she demanded and only checked in a few times.

With a quick swipe, he answered. “Callie? Everything okay?”

“Not Callie. It’s me.” Far from her normal, cheery voice, Sky’s stumbling tone immediately raised red flags.

“What’s up? Why are you calling me on Callie’s phone?”

“Mine is out of order for a few days. I’ll explain later. You free tonight?” She sighed into the phone like she’d just finished a long run. “I could use a friend.”

He cringed at the word friend, desperately wanting to be more than that. It pained him every time she used the term to describe their relationship. Or lack thereof.

It seemed like we were something more than friends during that movie Saturday. Before that deplorable email dropped like an atom bomb.

But being her friend, he couldn’t ignore the distressed nature of her tone. She’d been dealing with so much darkness for the last year. Or, more accurately, for the majority of her life.

Normal people might have cracked, and he wouldn’t have faulted Sky at all if she’d had a full-on breakdown. She hadn’t. At least, not yet. Sky claimed that writing was her catharsis.

Hopefully, she was right. But if not, Javier would be there to help her through it. “Sure. Of course. Something happen with the video thing? Breakthrough? Update?”

“We can talk about it tonight.” Sky dodged the topic like a pro. “I just need a distraction. Good company and comfort food.”

“I’ll grab Mr. Lee’s on my way over.” Whatever the new development was, it had to be pretty serious if Sky was requesting a second solo hangout within the same week. But he wouldn’t get that information out of her now. “Email me your order, and I’ll see you around seven.”

“Thanks, Javier. You’re the best.” Sky disconnected the call before he could reply.

He glanced at the clock. A little after ten in the morning, and it had already been an eventful day.

How the hell am I supposed to focus on anything now?

13

I hated having to drive the van into the city, but the reward would be worth the effort.

Over the last couple of days, I’d observed Mariela and learned her schedule. As an assistant at a busy dental office, her days ran like clockwork. And for a woman who claimed to not want to model, she posted an awful lot of pictures of herself. Each new entry into her social timeline read like a cloying cry for attention.

Feeling cute today! Finally seeing results. #RunnersLife

I grabbed these amazing new running shoes. Now I just need motivation.

Enjoying the sunshine on my morning run. #Blessed

Skinny doesn’t taste as good as this cinnamon roll. Going to pay for that later.

Such an obvious game to the uninitiated. Mariela probably thought herself a master manipulator. Every one of her posts demanded positive feedback. She painted herself in an unflattering light and watched the suckers come running with their praise. One thing was certain. Mariela was an expert in the art of wrapping an audience around her little finger.

Someone should have warned her that sharing so much of her life made her an easy target.

Or maybe someone had, and she simply didn’t care.

That was the way of her type. Always thinking they were pulling the strings. Unaware of the bigger predators waiting to pounce.

If it was attention she wanted, I’d give her that and more.

Mariela was mine for the taking. Had she come of her own will, I might have shown her a good time. Nothing wrong with a little off-the-clock stress release. But since she ignored my initial offer, refusing to come to me on my terms, she would pay the price for disobedience.

Taking a slow trip around the block, I searched for a good place to park. I’d come by earlier in the day to scope out the area, locating the easy exit points, mapping out the best routes to take after securing my prize.

But no matter how much intel I had about the block surrounding Mariela’s apartment, parking would be my biggest logistical issue. It always was in Manhattan. I needed to be close enough to her door, but not right in front. Ease of access to the van and proximity to her apartment were key.

Complicating matters further, her block consisted of mixed-use brownstones and prewar five-story walk-ups. Most of the ground-floor units were shops. Her street had a bodega at the corner. A hair salon took up the ground level of her apartment, and a shoe repair shop was in the building next to it.

I took another lap around the block, noting that other than the bodega, the shops on her street were all closing down for the evening.

That should open up parking for me as well as limit any risk of my being seen when the time came to make the grab.

After one more trip around the block, a sleek sedan pulled out of an ideal spot, and I slid right in. Easy view of Mariela’s apartment access door, but far enough away to thwart any security cameras from the bodega at the end of the street.

With the van idling, I twisted out of the driver’s seat and went to check my toolbox in the back.

Zip ties, a hood, and a gag. Everything I needed to secure my package. Next to my toolbox, I had a duffel bag stuffed with the rest of my gear.

If I had my timing right, Mariela would come around the corner any minute. I had done this sort of snatch-and-grab so many times, the motions were muscle memory at this point.

But even with the low risk, it was never wise to get cocky.

I had to do things right the first time.

Screwups had happened in the past. Dustin Wint was dead for his failure to properly capture that bitch Sky Stryker. I’d nearly gone down with him. But luckily, I hadn’t been there the day he busted into her apartment.

No. I was just there for an absolute failure of a snatch-and-grab disaster that indebted me to the boss forever. Scared off by an old woman with a gun.

“Retired FBI,” I whispered to myself, even now embarrassed at how Dustin and I had bombed the chance to take that nosy, auburn-haired pain in the ass captive…because a senior citizen had chased us off.

The van had remained empty that day, but I’d done loads of excellent work for the boss since then. I was almost positive he’d forgiven me.

Then again, he’d stuck me with a babysitter of sorts in Ashley. Maybe his confidence in me wasn’t as strong as I would have hoped after all my dedication to the films.

Shake it off. Focus on Mariela.

After a quick check of my watch to confirm the time, I unzipped the duffel and pulled out a ski mask. Slipping the covering over my head and topping it with a wide-brimmed hat, I was sure no one would recognize my face. Next came an oversize winter coat.

My trusty pair of leather gloves completed the look I was going for. By hiding my face and my distinguishing features, I was protecting my identity should any cameras catch me in the act.

The van was harder to hide but as nondescript as a plain white van could be. The old girl blended into the background of the city street. For added security, I cycled through new license plates every time I took her out of the garage. An easy swap to make.

Most people never noticed when their front license plate had been swiped. And thanks to my boss’s special disposal services, I could discard the used plates along with other garbage I’d finished with and be sure it would never see the light of day.

Before opening the back doors, I set out the hood, gag, and zip ties where I could grab them when I was ready.

Timing was everything. Once things in motion, I’d have no margin for error.

My heart kicked into high gear. The adrenaline rush was already beginning. So close to having my new plaything, I was already imagining how the first session would go. Pinned, constricted, and utterly helpless. Her soft flesh yielding to my will. Breaking them in was the most exciting part.

My body tingled with anticipation. But first, I had to claim her.

Goose bumps erupted all over my body as I opened the van’s back doors and stepped out onto the street.

All the shops on the street level of the apartments were now shuttered for the night. The only shop lights came from the bodega. Foot traffic around that little shop was heavier than I had hoped, but none of the people were heading down this side of the street.

Trash from the individual apartments had been stacked in neat piles along the sidewalk, the white and black plastic bags creating natural barriers. I couldn’t have asked for a better night to make my claim.

Hunching over to mask my true height, I got into character and hobbled away from the van, placing myself between the street and Mariela’s apartment door.

To any passersby, I’d appear like a homeless man rummaging through the trash for new treasures. Homeless people were like visual white noise, ignored like the other discarded trash along the street. It was the perfect disguise.

I played my part, picking my way around the bags and pretending to be interested in them as I listened for her to come around the corner.

The unmistakable clip, clip, clip, clip of heels on concrete drew my attention.

Right on schedule, Mariela.

The van was in my periphery. With a quick tilt of my head, I took in the sway of her hips as she power walked my way. For someone who had spent so much time posting pictures of her new running shoes, it was strange she’d chosen not to wear them during her commute home.

Proof of her vanity for all to see. God forbid she be seen sporting comfortable shoes if they clashed with her pantsuit.

The instability of her high heels combined with the unbelted peacoat flapping behind her as she walked…it was as if she wanted to be taken.

“Time for the fun to begin.” Although I’d mumbled the words, I wouldn’t have been surprised if, in her vanity, she’d stopped to ask me what I’d said.

Clip, clip. Clip, clip.

In typical New York fashion, she pretended I wasn’t there. But as she walked past, putting her back to me, I sprang into action.

Reaching out with my left hand, I grabbed a fistful of her coat and yanked back. Those heels were unsteady, as predicted, and she tilted backward, arms windmilling as she crashed into me.

Moving with a skill honed through numerous such encounters, I slid my right arm around her neck, cradling her trachea in the inner crook of my elbow. Before she could utter a word, I slapped my other hand across her lips. Her head went back, and I applied just enough pressure, pulling my arm tighter against her throat, cutting off the arterial blood supply.

There was no getting out now. With my locked arms securing her head, it was only a moment before her struggling ceased and she went limp.

Taking all her weight against my chest, I dragged her into the waiting van and shut the doors behind me.

Another flawless victory for me.

Before she could wake and cause me trouble, I dropped her unconscious body to the floor of the van and went to work, securing her hands and feet. She stirred just as I was getting to the ball gag.

“Perfect timing.” I grinned. “Open wide.”

She opened her mouth to scream, giving me the opportunity to stuff in the gag and clip it around the back of her head. I finished with the hood over her head and checked my watch.

“Getting sloppy. That took almost thirty seconds longer than last time.” With a theatrical sigh of disappointment, I climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Might want to take a nap back there, sweetheart.” I glanced into the rearview mirror, a grin spreading across my face. “You’ll need your energy for what I have planned for you.”

14

Stuffing dirty clothes under the ruffle of her bed, Sky couldn’t understand how her studio apartment had gotten so messy. Javier would be there any minute. The last thing she needed was for him to sit on the couch and find one of her bras or, God forbid, a pair of her underwear stuck between the cushions.

Granted, he’d just been here the previous Saturday night, but her laundry had a way of multiplying in just a few days’ time.

Javier is no stranger to my living habits. Relax.

After ensuring the floor was clear of unwanted unmentionables and making her bed, Sky lit a couple of citrus candles on the counter that separated the kitchenette from the living space.

She eyeballed the pile of dishes she’d had every intention of washing today. “Good thing he’s bringing takeout.”

Of all the chores she hated, dishes ranked number one. Hopefully the menagerie of bright throw pillows and blankets throughout the rest of the studio space would distract him from the Eiffel Tower in the sink.

A knock announcing Javier’s arrival sent Sky spinning on her heel.

She flung open the door, gaze flitting up to his handsome face before sinking to the two brown bags in his hands. “Hi.”

“Mr. Lee’s, as promised.” Javier handed one bag to her. “You sounded like you really needed the company tonight. And honestly, I could use a friend too.”

Not sure if she was imagining it or not, but the way he said friend came across a little wounded. She hadn’t meant to refer to him as such on the phone, but there wasn’t exactly a term for what they were.

Perpetually stuck in between definitions. Does that work?

The thought of losing his friendship, were a romantic relationship between them to turn sour, twisted her gut every time she considered “the next step.”

Regardless of her standoffishness, he’d stuck around. His interest in her hadn’t seemed to wane in the slightest, and her attraction to him had grown stronger with each passing month.

In fact, if Delia hadn’t shown up during their not-quite-a-date the previous Saturday…and if she hadn’t gotten the awful video…Sky wasn’t sure where the night might have led them.

Staring up into Javier’s chocolate-brown eyes, she couldn’t help but let her gaze linger on his handsome face and wander over the rest of him. He had an adorably lopsided grin, as if one side of his mouth was in competition with the other in the cutest way possible.

As for his body? Greek god territory.

Javier cleared his throat. “Can I come in? Or are we planning to eat in the hall?”

Her face heated. How long had she been standing there, ogling him like he was the meal instead of the Chinese food he’d brought?

Stepping back to allow him inside, Sky flattened herself against the wall. Warmth pulled her attention down to the bag in her hands as the irresistibly tangy scent of orange chicken wafted up to her nose. “Looks like you brought enough food for an army.”

“Drinks too.” Javier reached inside his bag and pulled out a six-pack of beer. “Thought these might come in handy.”

“Good call.” Despite the tension—sexual and otherwise—taking over her brain, Sky forced herself to smile. “I’ll take three.”

He turned his back to her, crossing the oak hardwood flooring and setting the beer on her coffee table. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s safe to say I’m overwhelmed.” Highly aware that Javier would scold her once he found out all the updates she’d failed to give him, she tried to roll the ball his way. “But you appear to be a bit beat down yourself.”

“Something like that.” Collapsing onto her couch, Javier patted the cushion next to him. “Want to trade war stories? I’ve got a good one for you.”

Sky raised her eyebrow. If he’d had a bad day, Ashley Duncan had to be involved. That woman’s middle name was Trouble. Right from the moment Sky had met her, she’d gotten a distinct feeling of unease. Callie would call it bad juju. There was something dark about Ashley. And despite Javier’s many attempts to ignore her, she was fixated on him.

It was obvious why. Javier didn’t flaunt it, but he had a prominent family name and more money than he knew what to do with. A gold digger’s jackpot.

When Sky had first met him, she’d been certain he was the typical rich, womanizing, douchey asshole who only cared about himself, but she’d quickly been proven wrong.

Javier was a good guy—the genuine artifact in the flesh—and more.

So much more.

She set the takeout bag on the coffee table and claimed her spot on the couch. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“Deal.” Javier popped the caps off the beer bottles and handed one to her. “You go first. The last thing you told me was that you and Delia were going to talk to Kelsey’s roommate. Frankie, right? That was Sunday. I’m guessing you’ve talked to her by now.”

Of course he would be a gentleman and let her vent first. Then again, it had likely been driving him crazy not knowing exactly what was going on with the investigation. Sky took a long pull from her beer. She might need something stronger than that before the night was over.

“Frankie didn’t know anything except that Kelsey had left all her stuff at their apartment.” She set the bottle down and started digging around in the takeout bag. “So it’s doubtful that Kelsey disappeared on purpose. But something else. I received another email. Another…torture porn video of Kelsey.”

Javier’s knuckles whitened around his bottle. “Again? Why you? Was the title another threat?”

“No.” Sky wasn’t sure if the title mattered much, considering she was the targeted recipient of the awful footage. “This one was called ‘Kelsey’s New Position.’ It was equally as horrible as the first. I don’t know why I’m getting the videos unless I’ve just pissed someone off that bad.”

“You need to be careful.” Javier swigged his drink. “Whoever is doing this isn’t just going to stop. They’re on some sort of mission. You shouldn’t be alone until he’s found.”

“Now you sound like Dante.” Sky rolled her eyes without meaning to.

“The detective?” Javier set the drink down and stiffened. “You spoke with him about this?”

I could have said “the cops.” I didn’t have to name Dante specifically. Idiot.

“Delia and I consulted with Callie.” Sky floundered to explain and save Javier the jealousy. “We were at Callie’s when the second video hit my phone. She said it was time to take it to the police, and we agreed. Detective Houghton took our statements. They have my phone for a few days while they get the information they need from it. That’s it.”

“And Dante recommended you keep some company while they look for this guy.” Javier clenched his jaw, glowering at the ceiling. “I bet I wasn’t the person he had in mind.”

If it weren’t for her utter emotional depletion, Sky might have been annoyed. But she didn’t have the energy to muster up anything other than the truth. She touched Javier’s arm lightly. “There’s nothing between Dante and me. You don’t have to believe that, but I’m not going to say it again. He’s not a…problem…for you to waste your time worrying about.”

“Okay.” Javier tilted his head toward her. “He’s right anyway. You shouldn’t be alone. I guess that’s the real reason I’m here. Cop’s orders, huh?”

Despite his attempt to regain some form of good humor, Sky understood the sting in Javier’s tone. She squeezed his arm. “Hey. You’re here because I wanted you to be. I could have Delia or Callie over. I could go stay at one of their places. I didn’t want them. I wanted you.”

His expression softening, Javier peeked at her as though he might have misheard. His dark eyes studied her face as though looking for the catch. The letdown.

What the hell have I been putting this guy through? Sky’s heart skipped a beat as she met his gaze. No one’s ever looked at me that way in my entire life. And I keep pushing and shoving and pulling away like a blind moron hell-bent on loneliness and misery.

Javier released a heavy sigh. “Sami’s helping, too, by now, I assume?” He stared down into the red takeout box in his hand and speared a glistening chunk of orange chicken with the end of his chopstick. “I’m so out of the loop.”

“Hey. Don’t be like that.” Sky gave his arm another squeeze. “Fashion Week is almost here. You’re super busy. We all know that, and we all still love you.”

Longing flashed across his face. If Sky had blinked, she would have missed it. But the moment quickly ended with his expression shifting to neutral.

He nudged her with his shoulder and speared another piece of chicken with his chopstick. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Okay. Clearly, you’ve had a crappy day.” She snatched the takeout box from his hand. “Before you take it out on the food, let’s hear your story.”

“Sorry. I’m being rude.” Javier hung his head. “Work stuff has me off my game, but I shouldn’t snap at you, especially after you called me here because you needed a friend.”

“I mean, it’s not the greatest way to be helpful, but I get it.” After stealing a giant forkful of his chicken, she offered the box back with a playful wink. “And this is helping. I know you’re busy and you feel left out. That’s why you making the time to be here means even more.”

“So what’s the next move?” Javier cracked open another beer.

“We’re all in a holding pattern right now. There’s almost nothing to go on, and no one will say it, but there’s a good chance Kelsey…” Sky gritted her teeth.

What if she spoke the words and that made them come true? She didn’t want to jinx their chances of finding Kelsey. But the odds were clearly not in their favor.

Nodding as he chewed, Javier appeared to understand.

“Anyway, let’s get to your Ashley drama.” Sky stuffed her stolen bite of chicken in her mouth, giving herself an excuse not to say more.

Javier’s jaw dropped. “Why do you think Ashley has anything to do with it?”

His question didn’t need an answer, and rather than reply with words, she simply stared back with her best duh expression.

Tall as Javier was, at that moment, he seemed to shrink in his seat, as if the revelation of Ashley being the source of all his trouble was slowly whittling him down to nothing. “She crossed a line today. She touched me.”

“What? Where?” Sky nearly choked. Her gaze traveled south, as if her eyes had a mind of their own, following each button on his shirt until they disappeared behind his thick leather belt. Visions of the BDSM club and the spanking bench clouded her mind.

The whip was…fun. What would a belt be like? Would Javier be gentle? Would he—holy shit. Her cheeks flamed. Where did that come from?

Shivers racked her body while goose bumps erupted down her arms. Sky tried to regain control, fully aware Javier was witnessing the southern drift of her gaze.

“She touched me.”

Javier’s words hammered in her brain, and suddenly, Sky imagined herself holding the belt. But rather than playful swats, she was whipping it violently at Ashley for daring to lay a finger on this wonderful man.

Pressing her lips together, Sky forced her gaze upward to Javier’s face.

The corners around his eyes crinkled as he rumbled out a laugh. “No. Not like that. But still pretty inappropriate and definitely unwanted.”

Embarrassment seared her cheeks. He’d totally just caught her checking him out. Her only saving grace was he couldn’t have seen the naughty fantasy that ran through her mind.

Right? Because that’s not possible. He has no idea. None. Zero. Probably.

With nowhere to run or hide in the tiny studio apartment, Sky squirmed in her seat. She needed to change the subject fast. “So have you gone to HR yet?”

Javier leaned back against the couch cushions, stretching his arms over his head. “Not yet, but I did like you suggested before and confronted her about it.”

Not a good sign. The scowl crossing his face spoke volumes.

“Please tell me you had witnesses when you confronted her.”

He snorted and ran a hand through his thick brown hair. “One. Her assistant, Lupita, was with me.”

Sky’s lips twitched at the idea of Javier reprimanding Ashley in front of her assistant. “So you finally let Ashley have it because she went too far. What’s the problem?”

“She’s a pain in my ass, and she’s still there.” Javier’s voice transformed into a growl. “Hell, she’s probably on everyone’s shit list. Everyone except Arthur Hurley’s.”

“Do you think she’ll go to the big boss and make you look bad?” Sky was having a déjà vu moment. She’d just had this conversation with Javier.

Had he not listened the last time they’d discussed Ashley? Or was there something more he wasn’t saying? Maybe he had a soft spot for her. Or, as much as he denied it, maybe he liked all the flirting.

Ick. No. He’s better than that.

“Oh, she’s going to try.” Javier whipped out his phone and swiped, showing Sky the screen. “This is a notice from Lupita that I got just after I left work, requesting my presence at a meeting with Ashley and Arthur tomorrow morning. She absolutely is trying to drag me in front of our CEO. But it won’t work. I’m certain of that. My record at GDL is impeccably clean.”

“So again,” Sky finished her second beer, slightly woozy from the abnormally fast consumption, “I don’t see the problem. You said she won’t be flirting with you anymore after your meeting with Arthur?” She tapped her knee against his.

Javier managed a weak grin, shaking his head. “No. It’s just…it’s time to let her go. And I hate firing people. A job is important. It means a person can put food on the table and keep a roof over their head.”

All the warmth that had reddened Sky’s cheeks a moment earlier drained down into her chest, making her heart swell. Though this woman made his life a living hell, Javier was still considerate enough to think of her living conditions.

“You have got to be the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.” Sky scooted closer and snuggled up next to him, resting her head on his chest. “I hear what you’re saying. And you’re a good man for considering the impact before you make a decision like that.”

Sky took a breath and tried to figure out the most tactful way to make her point.

Javier’s hand came up to cover his face. “Sounds like you’re about to say but.”

“Yeah.” She glanced up, giving him a flirty wink.

“Because you think she knows what she’s done wrong.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh that vibrated through his chest into Sky’s ear. “I have given her too many chances already, right?”

“It’s like you’re reading my mind.” Sky liked the way his voice rumbled against her ear. In the silence, she caught the fluttering beat of his racing heart. “Your company has rules in place to protect all employees, no matter how high or low their positions are. She knows the rules. The responsibility of her actions falls on her alone.”

“That helps a lot, Sky. Thank you.” His heartfelt tone sent a fresh wave of tingles across her body.

“No. thank you. You’ve been an amazing distraction. Just what I needed tonight.”

After giving her a mock salute, Javier wrapped her in his arms. “At your service. Anytime. You know that.”

She did. And that was what made it so hard to not let him in. She could so easily fall for him. Truth be told—which she hadn’t told to anyone but herself—she already had.

Javier was everything she wanted in a man. But would she survive the heartbreak if they split up, ruining not just their romantic relationship but the friendship she’d come to depend on?

“We’ve each still got a beer left and enough food for five more meals. Maybe we should pop in a comedy or something.” Sky snuggled closer, not wanting to leave the warmth of his embrace. “Enough of this down in the dumps stuff.”

She let out a long exhale. In this moment, she was at peace. And she needed the tranquility to last as long as possible.

15

He hadn’t come for her in a while. Had it been a full day? Hard to tell when she kept passing in and out of consciousness in her dark cell of a room. Either way, Kelsey was thankful for the reprieve. She curled up in the frigid kiss of the concrete floor. Rough though it was against her skin, the chill soothed her bruises and welts.

When she’d first arrived, long periods of silence had settled over the building. Lately, though, Kelsey caught the distant and distorted shrills of screaming. She wasn’t the only one trapped in here, enduring horrific brutalization.

There was comfort in the fact that she wasn’t alone in her suffering. But that thought made her feel like a monster.

It would be better if it were only me. No living being deserves this torment.

Maybe that was why the masked man hadn’t come for her in a while. He had a better toy to play with. Maybe he’d forget about her, and she’d be left to die in this small closet of a room. She’d gladly stay there and welcome the gentle embrace of death. Anything was preferable to the alternative.

A thin ribbon of light pierced the gap at the bottom of the door, shining directly into Kelsey’s face. She groaned and closed her eyes.

The soft shuffling tap of rubber-soled shoes against concrete came next.

Breath hitching in her chest, Kelsey’s muscles tensed.

He’s coming.

Keys rattled against the wooden door.

No. Please no. Not again.

If she could muster the energy, she would have shouted the pleas. Not that it would have done her any good. Nothing stopped him from taking his sick pleasure.

A groaning screech of rusty hinges announced the door before it fully opened, flooding the room with blinding light.

“I have a surprise for you.” The masked man’s teasing voice held a singsong cadence.

With her eyes clamped shut against the glaring light, Kelsey pictured his sinister smile behind her eyelids.

“This is not how you were instructed to greet me.” His initial delight shifted to the growl she had come to associate with him. “Get in position.”

The crack of a whip accompanied his order.

Kelsey didn’t know if she could even lift herself to obey. He’d pushed her battered body past its breaking point too many times. She hadn’t moved an inch since the last time he’d discarded her, and she didn’t know if that had been hours ago or days.

Crack.

The threat of pain motivated Kelsey enough to force her unwilling muscles to move. With a moan like a dying whale, she rolled from her back to her stomach. Knees under her, she bowed forward, stretching her arms out in front as she touched her forehead to the ground, assuming the submissive position he demanded.

The air broke inches above Kelsey’s back. She tensed. The next one would sting. She should have rolled over the moment she heard the footsteps.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about the surprise?”

His questions were always a trap. No answer she could give would be the one he wanted. Nothing she did pleased him enough to go easy on her.

Tears welled in her eyes as the masked man stepped forward, the leather of his shoe coming so close, he nearly squished her fingers.

Crack.

Leather found flesh, leaving a trail of flames across the small of her back that pushed a hiss from her mouth.

“Am I to be shown so little respect that you would dare refuse answering a simple question?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” The moment the words left Kelsey’s lips, she braced for retribution.

“Lies!”

Crack.

She struggled to hold back the cry. Tears stung her eyes, but she pressed her lips together and held the air in her lungs, praying they might pop like a balloon and end her miserable existence.

“On your feet.”

Kelsey’s arms shook violently as she braced her hands against the concrete to push herself up. When she didn’t move fast enough, rough hands gripped her. Fingers digging into her bruised flesh, he hauled her the rest of the way upright.

“You’d better find some strength quick.” He leaned in close, his breath hot on her neck. “You’ll need it for my surprise.” Still gripping tight to her string bean arms, he yanked her into the brightly lit hallway.

She’d walked this path more times than she cared to remember.

He was dragging her toward his playroom. She’d taken a turn on nearly every one of his torture devices in the time she’d been trapped here. Some were old and splintered. Some lacked any form of support, forcing her to balance as he had his fun. Then there were the full immobilization devices. Ones that placed her in compromising positions so nothing she did would interrupt his playtime.

The door came into view. Kelsey prayed for death before they could reach it.

As if a god or some other universal deity had heard her silent prayer, her tormentor took a sharp turn just before reaching the entrance to his playroom.

At the end of a short hall, he stopped at a locked door. Keys jangled as he searched for the right one.

“I’ve brought you a new playmate.” The only thing visible through his mask was his mouth. He was smiling as he opened the door and promptly shut her inside.

Just as dark as her closet of a room had been, this room left Kelsey blind. She stumbled to the floor, her cheek scraping the concrete, but as momentum pushed her forward, the thing she collided with was soft.

It let out a groan.

Kelsey licked her swollen lips, apprehension filling her. “Hello?”

Like magic, lights flooded the room from overhead fluorescent bulbs.

Blinded in the opposite way by such sudden illumination, Kelsey blinked to regain her focus and saw the soft thing she had tumbled into.

Another woman.

“What do we think of our new plaything?” His voice came in loud and tinny through the overhead speakers. “I’ve given her a test-drive myself. Dare I say, she might even be more satisfying than you.”

Kelsey pressed her lips together, refusing to play into his mind game. More or less satisfying didn’t matter in this hellhole. She and her new companion were almost certainly going to die here.

“Wake her up,” he demanded.

There would be consequences if she didn’t listen. Kelsey nudged the unconscious woman in the shoulder. “Hey. Wake up.”

Her new companion didn’t move.

“If you don’t want to play, then I guess I’ll have to take my turn. Is that what you want?” He mocked her with a taunting laugh.

Apprehension turned to dread, sinking to the pit of her stomach like lead. “How do I…wake her?” Kelsey kept her voice barely above a whisper to prevent it from cracking.

“I have provided all the tools you need. Look around. Get familiar with things. Try some on yourself if you like. I won’t mind watching while we wait on Sleeping Beauty.”

It was then Kelsey spotted the mirror taking up half the wall. That was where he was. Twisting her head to either side, she spied small devices with red lights at each of the corners. Some were installed up high while others were placed at oddly low levels.

Pushing herself up to her feet, Kelsey walked to the far side of the room. Against the wall, she found a worn and weathered doctor’s exam table, complete with stirrups. Next to it, a metal rolling cart had been filled with the masked man’s favorite torture devices.

Her stomach churned as she checked over each of the implements that had recently been used to extract her most gut-wrenching screams.

“Do you get the idea, or do I need to explain it to you?” His voice had turned cold and deathly serious.

Nausea crashed over Kelsey like a tidal wave. She swallowed. “I’m not getting on that table.” She turned and faced the two-way mirror. Though she couldn’t see him, she imagined his skull-masked face behind the glass.

“You or her. It really doesn’t matter. Neither of you is going to leave this room until I get what I want.”

In a not-so-wise act of defiance, she crossed her arms. “Then I guess you’ll be waiting a long time.”

On the ground, the blond woman stirred. She moaned as if struggling to free herself from a nightmare.

Better to stay asleep. Nothing could be worse than reality.

“I wonder which of you has more of a drive for life. I’ll offer her the same deal when she wakes.” He laughed. “And she is quite a bit stronger than you.”

Kelsey started to reply but clamped her mouth shut. He was baiting her, she reminded herself. She couldn’t fall for his tactics.

“You’re losing your chance. Strap her in while she’s still unconscious. Put on a show for me, and I’ll let you go.”

That was dirty. Dangling her freedom like that. He couldn’t be serious. She’d go straight to the cops, and he’d be finished. Sadistic as he was, the masked man wasn’t stupid. But still, he tried to play on her hope. The most painful thing he could do to her in that moment. A twist of the knife straight into her heart.

Hatred filled every fiber of her being, and she glared at the glass. “Liar.”

“Why would I lie?” His words played over the speaker with a dull monotone, giving no clue to the truth behind them. “Have I spoken a single falsehood to you yet?”

His question scrambled her brain, forcing her to think back to anything he’d said to her. Nothing registered. He rarely spoke. The occasional order here and there, but mostly he just liked to keep her restrained so he could indulge his maniacal fantasies.

Swaying where she stood, feeling as if she might collapse at any second, Kelsey focused her attention on the mirrored glass. “You’ve done nothing but rape and abuse me. Everything about you is false. You’re the fucking devil.”

Blondie’s eyes fluttered. She opened them and, with a gasped breath, immediately slammed them shut again.

Despite her protesting body, Kelsey crouched next to her. “Hey. What’s your name?”

“Get away from me!” Blondie’s shriek was so loud, Kelsey’s ears rang. With a glare, the incensed woman shoved Kelsey, sending her tumbling to the cold, hard floor.

“I’m not your enemy⁠—”

“For now.” The masked man finished the sentence for her.

Blondie scooted back as far as she could until her back pressed against the wall. “Don’t touch me. Let me go.”

“He won’t.” Kelsey jabbed a finger toward the glass. “We’re both his prisoners here.”

Blondie’s eyes were wide as saucers as they darted around the room, as if searching for something. An exit, probably. Finally, she spotted Kelsey and gasped. “You too?”

On instinct, Kelsey’s hands lowered, one covering her breasts while the other hovered over the apex of her thighs. She hadn’t worn clothes in what seemed like forever. Having spent so much time in her dark cell, she’d forgotten how black and blue her body was.

Welts covered so much of her skin that she probably looked like an alien from one of those sci-fi movies she’d seen in the theater with her cousin when they were teenagers.

Would she ever see her family again? Her friends? A sob choked in her throat. “Yeah. I’ve been here a…while.”

“So there’s no hope?” Blondie tried to speak through her crying.

“Oh, there is.” His sinister voice echoed into the room. “But only for those willing to do what it takes to earn freedom.”

Blondie sniffled and rubbed the back of her hand against her nose. “What?”

“Let me officially introduce you to each other, ladies.” He adopted the tone of a radio host announcing a highly anticipated sporting event. “Kelsey, meet Mariela. Mariela is an office assistant at a bustling dental office in the city. She’s absolutely gorgeous, though she lacks self-confidence. That might work in your favor, Kelsey, but we can’t be sure just yet. People tend to change when their lives are on the line.”

Kelsey’s mouth hung open as she listened to the narrative in stunned silence. The masked bastard wasn’t kidding. He was really going to make them⁠—

“Mariela, you haven’t been here nearly as long as Kelsey. She’s definitely got seniority in this situation. A little more ‘aware of her surroundings,’ if you will.” He gleefully continued his commentary. “Kelsey was starting her modeling career when I found her. She’s what you could have been, Mariela, if only you had listened to me.”

The newcomer couldn’t seem to hold Kelsey’s gaze for more than a second at a time. A tear trailed down her cheek. “I’ve never seen you before in my life. I was just walking home. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Kelsey attempted to snap her filth-covered fingers to bring Mariela back. “He’s going to try to⁠—”

The masked man’s laughter rang out, bouncing off the concrete walls. “Now, Mariela, despite her grotesque appearance, don’t underestimate Kelsey. My god, she can take a beating. She’s a trooper. At the same time, see her for what she’s become. Weak. Wounded. Prey.”

Kelsey fought back tears at the description.

I was young and beautiful. Everything ahead of me. Until this place.

“You see that exam table, Mariela?” His voice took on a teasing tone. “Kelsey already knows what she must do to you if she wants to live another day. But I want to make sure you understand. I’ve left you some of my best toys. Newbie that you are, you’ve still had enough time with me to put together what I like to see.”

“No. No. You can’t mean…” Mariela put a hand over her mouth, choking down a gag. She’d clearly come to the same conclusion as Kelsey.

No surprise there. If she had spent any time at all with the deranged monster, she would be intimately aware of his disgusting expectations.

“The choice is yours, ladies. One of you gets to leave this room. But only the one who has earned it. I’ve shown you my style. The one who best emulates it might go free. And please, make use of all the tools I have provided.”

Mariela gulped and turned to face Kelsey.

“He’s lying.” Kelsey spit out the words, sending all her anger toward the mirrored glass. “He will never let us go, no matter what we do. You might get out of this room, but you will never, ever get out of this warehouse.”

“I might not be your average Joe Blow on the street, but I’m a man of my word, Mariela. The victor will be released, and I’ll have the video evidence of her naughty behavior as collateral against any retribution.”

“C-collateral?” Mariela repeated the term. “T-to keep us quiet.”

He let out a hearty belly laugh. “Didn’t see that coming, did you, Kelsey? It makes perfect sense. Mariela understood instantly. I don’t lie, and whichever one of you survives this little playdate will never tell. By the time you make it out of this room…if you make it out of this room…you’ll be just as guilty and loathsome as I. Now, who will be my star?”

Mariela’s eyebrows arched as her gaze shifted from Kelsey to the medical exam table and back.

She’s actually considering it.

Kelsey hadn’t given their demented captor’s proposal a serious thought until that moment. She could never inflict that kind of pain on another person.

But she was not about to be put through more hell for that man’s twisted gratification. At the very least, she had to fight back. Protect herself.

Stay off that godforsaken table.

“Winner takes all.” His mocking laughter filled the silent room.

Gazes locking once more, neither of them said a word. They both stared in silence, daring the other to make the first move.

16

Sky rubbed at her puffy eyes, fighting back yet another telltale yawn that might announce to Delia and Sami how unusual her night had been. Whether the alcohol or stress had knocked them out, she and Javier hadn’t made it through even a half hour of the comedy they’d attempted to watch.

Instead, they’d fallen asleep. Sky woke at some point in the dead of the night, an advertisement for a Turbo Blast 360 Vacuum Pack shining out of the television.

Callie wants one of those.

Javier’s arms held her firmly, and the steady rise and fall of his chest told her he was completely out.

While the couch wasn’t exactly fit for sleeping, she didn’t get up to move to the bed, choosing instead to stay wrapped in Javier’s arms and ride out the rest of the night on lumpy cushions.

The simple decision spoke volumes, but there’d been no time for discussion this morning. Javier was due at work—his HR meeting with Ashley looming over his head—and Sky had promised to meet Delia and Sami to assist with sifting through information for the investigation.

An awkward hug paired with an equally embarrassing promise to talk later, and Javier had been out the door.

It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll think about that later.

“Please tell me you ladies have had some luck with the social media search?” Sami leaned back against the stiff padding of his office chair and peered up at them, yanking Sky back to the present.

“No men with four fingers appear in any of Kelsey’s pictures or follower lists.” Delia’s expression darkened as she shook her head. “I honestly don’t think she knew who this guy was.”

So much for that idea. Though most victims knew their attackers, sometimes the criminal was a truly random person…or a not-quite-random person. Perhaps Kelsey’s attacker was the barista at her favorite coffee shop or the taxi driver who gave her a lift. Someone who became obsessed without her knowing it.

Sami pounded his fist on his desk with a growl.

Delia popped up from her spot on the couch. “You okay, babe?”

“Another null search result.” Sami scrubbed his hands through his hair, loosening his ponytail.

“Wait. I know this one.” Sky put her hand up like an excited student trying to impress the teacher. “Null means empty, right?”

Over the past few weeks, Sami had been showing Sky a few of the tricks he used and some of his personally coded programs for tracking client data. The learning was slow going, but she’d picked up a few very minor things.

“Exactly.” Sami chugged from the water bottle on his desk. “Every IP bounce this email made returns an error. Whoever is behind the video, they’re smart enough to cover their tracks. All the metadata on the sender’s side has been altered. It’s a spoofed email, but I can’t trace it back to any real IP. And the video isn’t hosted directly on a server. They’re using a decentralized blockchain distribution layer.”

Sky gave him a thumbs-up. “I’m going to pretend I understood whatever you just said.”

“It means that whoever we’re dealing with,” Sami took a slow, calming breath, “knows how to keep themselves hidden.”

“You’re going to drive yourself crazy if you don’t give your brain a break.” Delia crossed the office and came around behind him to massage away some of the tension in his shoulders. “We’ve been at this for a while now. You barely even slept last night. Maybe we need some fresh air or something.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I could definitely use a caffeine boost.” Sky pinched the bridge of her nose. “Either my eyes are going crossed, or all these profile pictures are starting to look the same. As many all-nighters as I’ve pulled trying to meet writing deadlines, you’d think it would start to get easier.”

“See what I mean?” Delia waved a hand at Sky as though she were Exhibit A in a court case. “We’re all exhausted.”

“I just hate walking away mid-investigation. Even for coffee.” Rolling his neck side to side, Sami let out a long huff of surrender. “Let’s be quick. I don’t want to stop for too long.”

“Fresh air will definitely do us a little good.” Sky stood with her purse already on her shoulder. “Like Callie always says, sugar and caffeine feed the brain.”

“I don’t think she says that in quite the same context as you’re thinking.” Delia snorted. “But when it comes to unsolvable cases, she’s the first to point out the benefits of a dopamine boost.”

Sky headed for the doorway. “Sure. Dopamine. Whatever you want to call it. We’re getting our java fix now. Discussion closed.”

She’d nearly made it to the entrance when the alarm dinged, announcing a new arrival at Hayat Investigations.

“Hi, Sky.” Detective Dante Houghton’s voice froze her as he appeared in the lobby. “Didn’t expect you to be here, but I’m glad you are. I’ve got your phone in my squad car. Was going to drop it by your place after my stop here.”

Shoving her hands in her jean pockets, Sky forced herself to smile. “Oh. That’s great. You’re already done with it?”

Dante nodded, returning her grin with his damn dimple on full display. “Yep. Cyber made a copy. I’ll grab it for you right after I give Mr. Hayat this.” He held out a tiny flash drive.

Before Sky could inquire as to what the drive contained, Delia and Sami joined them in the lobby.

“Detective Houghton.” Sami greeted the new arrival with the warm tones of old friends instead of mere acquaintances. “Tell me you’ve got some good news.”

“Well.” Dante held out the flash drive. “I have all the relevant CCTV from the night Kelsey Vinn went missing, as promised. But we’ve already combed through it. There’s nothing there. Thought I’d give it to you anyway. I know you private investigator types like to see things for yourself.”

Sami accepted the flash drive with a wry smile. “You’re right about that.” He turned the drive over in his hand. “Wish there was something more promising to look over.”

Dante sighed, glancing around the lobby. “We all do. At the very least, this saves you some of that gray-area hacking work you’re so fond of. You should all know that we’ve spoken with Kelsey’s roommate as well, Frankie Jenkins. She has no idea where Kelsey was partying that night after the fashion show wrapped up.”

Sky understood the letdown in that statement. Security camera footage was everywhere, but if no one knew where to start searching in the vast city, CCTV might as well not have existed at all.

“If I come across anything, I’ll let you know.” Sami gave a courteous dip of his chin.

Dante nodded, already turning toward the door. “I’ll do the same. Assuming it’s information I’m allowed to share.”

Don’t roll your eyes, Sky. Don’t you dare roll your eyes.

“We appreciate it,” Sami answered for all three of them.

Glancing at Sky as he grabbed for the door handle, Dante held up a finger. “I’ll go get your phone. Be right back.”

As he disappeared into the NYC winter, Delia grabbed Sami by the arm. “We’ll be back in the office. When you’re finished talking, we can get that coffee. Maybe lunch too.”

“You don’t have to leave us alone.” Sky didn’t even want to be left on her own with Dante. Not after everything had ended so weirdly between them before anything ever started.

“Just come join us when he leaves.” Delia dragged Sami down the hallway.

Wanting to protest more, Sky was aware there wasn’t time. The duo had barely made it into Sami’s office before Dante popped back in through the front door and approached her.

“Here ya go.” He handed over the phone. “Thanks for cooperating.”

Sky tilted her head, taking in Dante’s calm expression. “I mean, we brought the case to you. Of course I’m going to cooperate.”

He held up his hands. “Fair enough.” Staring at her, Dante seemed rooted to the floor.

“What?” Sky popped the word out without meaning to, rattled by his intense gaze.

“I just,” Dante shook his head, “wish I hadn’t blown my shot with you. I get so caught up in the job…it’s all I see sometimes. Before I know it, a good thing has passed me by.”

Sky opened her mouth and closed it, unsure how to respond. Yet Dante stood waiting, making her feel that she had to say something.

“I haven’t…passed by…anything. We never got started.” She eyed the hallway, half expecting to see her friends peeking out of Sami’s office.

They’re one-hundred-percent eavesdropping right now. Hands down.

“Okay.” Dante crossed his arms. “So you’ll let me take you out for that first date we never had?” The hopeful grin on his face sent butterflies flitting through her stomach for a moment.

As quickly as they came, they flew away.

“I’m not…not really interested in that…anymore. I’m sorry.” Sky shifted her weight between her feet. There were a million better ways to have let him down.

But that’s what came out.

Dante bit his lip. “Yeah. I was afraid of that.” A small smile crept across his mouth. “Just make sure he treats you right.”

As the detective turned toward the door, Sky attempted to process his words. Surely, he wasn’t referring to⁠—

Javier. That’s exactly who he was talking about. Because everyone who’s ever seen the two of us together knows. Because I know.

Sky watched Dante leave. She checked the time on her cell phone. Lunch was fast approaching, which meant most workers would be taking a break, and there was only one person she wanted to see.

17

The ladies had put on quite a show. Not exactly the titillating spectacle I’d envisioned, but entertaining nonetheless. Mariela was the perfect choice. She’d demonstrated such raw power. Such desperation. And the will to live.

I had three screens displaying the footage from various angles as I worked to splice the scene together. I’d been at it all night, and the sun was just now rising, but I wasn’t tired.

The upper angle zoomed in on Mariela’s feral expression. Lip curling into a snarl, she reminded me of a wild hyena ready to pounce.

But if I switched to the camera looking over Mariela’s shoulder, the sharpness of Kelsey’s jaw was apparent as she ground her teeth. With a splendid mane of wild, matted hair, Kelsey was the feisty mandrill, a colorful primate more than capable of standing her ground as she faced off against Mariela’s wounded but deadly hyena.

Each view provided unique flavoring to the scene. It would be a crime not to use as much of the footage as possible. But that was my dilemma and the reason I’d lingered in the warehouse for so long.

Perfection was a blessing and a curse. Those who hired me knew they were getting more than just quality. My attention to detail took what could be great and made it exceptional. And as this material was quite different from my normal deliverables, I had to be sure the boss was getting the absolute best of every visual that crossed the screen.

Choosing to shift between views, I leaned hard into the moment of tension that started their glorious battle. When I finished this project, it would be the first of its kind. An undiscovered gem.

Bolstered by my ego, I set to work matching the frames and creating smooth transitions.

Time lost meaning while I was deep in my art, and I hadn’t realized how long I’d sat hunched over the desk until I shifted in my chair and stretched. The movement triggered a sharp spasm down my left side. My leg contracted with a biting sting that radiated down, curling my toes. An involuntary hiss escaped my lips as I attempted to straighten the angry limb.

I panted as the throbbing slowly diminished, reminding myself that tight muscles meant a multitude of great edits had been accomplished.

A noise emanated from outside my editing room.

No one was supposed to be in my warehouse studio today.

I stilled, straining to discern what the noise was.

A voice. Muffled, distant, and slightly echoed. Someone was in my playroom.

Ashley. It has to be.

Ignoring the ache in my calf, I stormed out of the room.

She is not ruining my work today.

As expected, she was in my playroom.

Anger simmered in my veins. What the hell was she doing rummaging through my things?

Bent over with her ass pointing right at me, wearing a skirt so short I could see where the baby got made, she had practically climbed into one of my cabinets. One by one, the bitch pulled out storage boxes. Popping each open, she shuffled the contents inside. Whatever she was searching for, she must not have found it. In the process, she had littered the floor with my belongings and showed no intention of cleaning up her mess.

Questions swam around my mind, starting with how she had acquired a key to my storage lockers. I kept those in the same office I’d been using all day for editing.

Had she really had the audacity to steal and copy my keys? That begged a more important question. How much time had she been spending in my studio when I wasn’t around?

As she dropped another box unceremoniously to the ground, anger turned into a ball of rage in my chest.

The voice that came out of my throat was unrecognizable, demonic, demanding obedience. “Put my things back now.”

Ashley twisted around to face me, clutching yet another of my boxes she’d pulled from the storage cabinet. “Oh, good. You’re here. Where do you keep the⁠—”

“I will not ask you again.” Fists at my sides, I met her eyes with an unflinching gaze.

“Oh. I see.” The box fell from her hands, landing with a clatter on the floor. She slammed her hands onto her hips. “You’re getting all territorial now. You’ll want to rethink that. I’m here to help you. The boss obviously isn’t happy with your latest work, so here I am. Don’t take it out on me. Maybe next time, you should try giving the people what they like.”

What. The. Fuck?

It took all the restraint I had not to give in to her goading. She wanted me to react. When sexual manipulation didn’t work, all a woman had left was spite. They weren’t called shrews because of their winning personalities.

And Ashley embodied the worst of all female traits, apart from her terrific ass. Her willingness to dress like a clown and play to the lowest common denominator was the only reason she’d achieved the modest success she had. But chasing trends didn’t create lasting fame. Her fifteen minutes would soon be up.

Though I doubted I’d have the restraint to endure her that long. Something had to be done about her. The sooner, the better. But the boss had brought her in, which meant he liked something she did.

I highly doubted she had some hidden quality that made her valuable. For the most part, people like me—and, to a lesser extent, her—were only as good as their ability to make profits. Our videos were currently en vogue, but I had to believe that mine were more profitable.

“What’s wrong? No counterargument. You know I’m right, don’t you?”

Maybe it was the tone of her voice, or it might have been the sassy flip of her hair. I wasn’t sure which one triggered me, but reality blurred for a moment, and by the time I realized it, I was across the room, standing nose to nose with my supervisor.

“Let there be no confusion here.” I fought against the fury leaking into my voice and kept my tone level. “This is my studio. You’re not a guest. You’re not my partner, and I sure as hell will not be answering to you. What you are is a pest. A parasite that I could crush with my pinky finger.”

She didn’t so much as flinch as her lip curled into a sneer.

“Walk away.” I pointed toward the exit. “Now.”

“I don’t think so.” Cocking her head to the side, she lifted her hand and tapped my cheek with the tips of her fingers. “Lay one hand on me, and the boss will put you six feet under. You know how he is when rules aren’t followed. There won’t be a single place on earth where he won’t have you hunted down and destroyed.”

Frustration fueled the fury in my gut. “I fucking hate you.”

“Take it out on your playthings, Scarface.” Ashley lifted her arm and looked pointedly at her watch. “I’m in a hurry. Have a meeting to get to, so say whatever you want to say.”

How dare she mock my scar. She’s not scared of me at all. She’s a woman. She should be cowering. Trembling. Crying and begging for mercy.

My hands shook with the desire to strangle the life out of her. “Just get out of my stuff.”

Ashley’s lips stretched into a wide smile. “Listen to me, you nine-fingered bastard. I find you absolutely repulsive. If it wasn’t for the boss, I would have killed you by now. Let that sink in.” She put her hands on her hips, still grinning. “But I think we’re both in a bit of trouble with the big man calling the shots, so I propose we work together to pull off a stunt that will get us out of hot water and then some.”

The boss hadn’t said a word to me about being unhappy with my videos. Ashley was either fronting the information, or she had a closer connection with the boss than I did. The latter made the most sense, since he’d sent her in as a supervisor.

Not a partner. Not a subordinate.

“What are you talking about?” My question dripped with disdain, but there was no denying the undercurrents of curiosity and desperation.

“I, personally, was part of an operation that failed horribly almost a year ago.” Ashley nodded as she spoke, reminding me of a politician admitting to their part in some heinous scandal. “I was tasked with kidnapping a woman. Sky Stryker. Nosy little bitch was digging into Megan Nowicki’s murder, and the boss wanted her gone.” She flipped her hair back. “But I failed…and she’s still running around breathing air and raising hell to this day.”

When Dustin Wint and I attempted to nab Sky Stryker, I’d known Dustin was working for someone who reported to the boss, but I’d never guessed that person was Ashley Duncan.

We’re both trying to make up for the same failure.

But it would be a cold day in hell before I admitted that to this woman.

“That sounds like a you problem.” I crossed my arms as though I were bored, though every nerve inside me was on fire.

“Trust me.” Ashley took a step closer. “If we can deliver this bitch to the boss, both of us will be flying high on his good graces. And it won’t be difficult to find her. She’s usually on the arm of Javier Bainbridge at every damn show or event he’s invited to.”

Shows and events that I often attended as a photographer for hire.

Ashley was a hag, and I wanted nothing more than to gouge her eyes out where she stood, but her plan was starting to make sense.

She flung her tresses over her shoulder for the millionth time. “That is, if you’re interested. Apparently, you’re pretty good at the grab-and-go or you wouldn’t have the constant intake of playthings to make your videos. I promise you a video with Sky Stryker would make you a star. A god in our line of work.”

Just the idea of bending that freckle-faced writer over and making her pay, pay, pay for ever having gotten away from me—for shooting Dustin—had my juices going.

“Fine.” My tone was too eager, too excited, but I no longer cared. “But we’re not just handing her over to the boss the second we have her. If she’s really that big of a deal, I intend to break her down to her core first.”

My mind reeled with plans. I’d use my best equipment. Close-up shots. So close, the viewer would scream along with Sky or, considering my general audience, orgasm on the spot.

“Do we have a deal?” Ashley’s screech of a voice brought me back to the present.

“Catch Sky Stryker.” I stared into Ashley’s evil gaze. “We have a deal.”

18

Ashley Duncan’s internal GDL messenger pinged, and a small message window appeared at the bottom of her screen.

Mr. Bainbridge is leaving for a lunch date. He didn’t say with whom he was dining.

Lupita was turning out to be quite the good little informant. After getting her hand slapped in her meeting with Javier and Arthur that morning, Ashley had charged her new assistant with keeping an eye out for the comings and goings of Mr. Javier “I’m Better Than Everyone” Bainbridge.

Honestly, that man was as infuriating as he was handsome, and such a freaking Boy Scout. And Arthur had sided with Javier. Typical Bro Code bullshit.

Ashley had dealt with plenty of that over the years. They always had each other’s backs. Couldn’t let a woman get in the way. Unless they were thinking with the wrong head.

Men can be stupid, brutish creatures, but they have a weakness.

At least, most seemed to have that as a weakness.

Others were far more complicated to play, but not impossible. They all had their kryptonite. It was just a matter of time and patience to find it. Ashley wouldn’t have gotten where she was without the careful application of both.

A shadowy blur passed by her office.

Probably Javier. Bet he’s racing off to go be with that wannabe Nancy Drew. What the hell does he see in Sky Stryker anyway?

Whenever Ashley brought Sky up, Javier swiftly changed the subject. He clearly wanted her. Ashley had a hard time believing he hadn’t slept with her already. Sky had that man so tightly wound around her freckled little finger.

She says jump, and Javier asks how high.

Some women had all the luck. Others had to make it for themselves.

Not everyone was born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Ashley certainly hadn’t been.

Jigglypuff. That was what the kids used to call her. All throughout grade school and into her middle school years, she’d struggled with weight. Being short and fat made her irresistible to bullies.

“But you have such a good personality.”

Ashley sneered at the memory of her mother’s weak attempts to cheer her up. The woman threw plenty of money at the problem. Ashley never left the house without the latest fashions, even if they had to be bought from the adult sections and specially tailored down to fit her shorter frame. But neither the stylish outfits nor the personal trainer Ashley’s parents hired did anything to stop the other kids from teasing her.

Only the strong survived a childhood surrounded by Barbie dolls in training. In the elite circles of society, shortness could be suffered, but never fatness. Ashley was a pariah.

Patience had been her only saving grace then. Ashley spent her time studying her peers and learning their weaknesses.

If you can’t schmooze your way into the right social circles, you blackmail your way in.

When she found out her classmate, Johnny, was paying someone to do his math because he was too stupid to do it himself, Ashley said she’d keep silent about it, but only if he saved a seat for her at the lunch table. When she walked in on the virginal Brigitte making out with her boyfriend backstage in the theater, the price of Ashley’s silence was a spot on the cheerleading team.

The stupid heifer didn’t want to pay, and the next thing everyone knew, Brigitte was being carted off to an all-girls boarding school.

Aside from a few stumbles in the beginning, blackmail worked nicely for teenage Ashley. Applying the right amount of pressure, backed up by incriminating information, served her all the way through eighth grade. She’d been a late bloomer, but when Ashley finally did bloom, it had been a complete transformation.

Like stepping into an entirely different body. During the summer before high school, Ashley sprouted up a few inches. Still relatively short, but nothing a good pair of heels couldn’t fix. All the baby fat that had given her such a round shape separated and shifted. By the time Ashley stepped past the doors of her high school, she had an enviable hourglass figure, the likes of Marilyn Monroe.

Hello, boys!

“Stupid, drooling idiots.” Laughter bubbled up from her throat.

A knock at her office door pulled Ashley from her musing.

“Come in.”

Lupita gently pushed the door open and stood just outside the office, one hand filled with a stack of brown interoffice envelopes. “Sorry to bother you, Ms. Duncan. I just wanted to know if you saw my message about Javier.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Not in the mood to be bothered, Ashley turned toward her computer screen and pretended to type. “If he comes back, let me know.”

“If you have a moment, can I ask you something?”

Assistants should know typing is the universal code for “Get out of my office.” Why is she still standing there?

Ashley folded her hands on top of the desk and plastered a smile on her face. “Make it quick.”

“It’s just…I’m sorry if this is a weird question.” Lupita crossed the threshold and took one of the two empty seats in front of Ashley’s desk. “I know you want me to keep tabs on Mr. Bainbridge, and I remember him reprimanding you yesterday. Are you okay?”

Nosy. But why?

Ashley stared into Lupita’s light-brown eyes, searching for some nugget of truth. She hadn’t been the one to hire her, but the woman had come highly recommended.

Still, Ashley couldn’t be too careful. Fashion was a ruthless industry. Scrutinizing the Latina woman’s navy blazer and pencil skirt, one thing was clear. She dressed the part.

Potential social climber? Maybe that’s it. She’s trying to earn brownie points by sucking up to the boss. That could work in my favor.

“I’m so sorry Javier dragged you into all that.” Leaning across the desk, Ashley dropped her voice to a whisper. “Between you and me, I think he’s trying to get me fired.”

Lupita lifted a hand to her chest. “Why would he do that?”

She looked appropriately shocked by the news, but Ashley wasn’t convinced the expression was genuine.

“He didn’t approve of me taking over for the woman who had this job before. You know how it is. Old boys club and all. Friends and frat boys only. They don’t like hardworking, pull yourself up by the bootstraps types like us in positions of power.”

“I know that better than you think. For years, I worked for this man. And then one day, his cousin needed a job. Suddenly, I was expendable.” Lupita snapped her fingers. “No severance. No notice. Nada. Pack your box and go.”

Her assistant’s angry tone was more convincing than her expression. Probably a defense mechanism. Years of oppression would do that to a person. Or Botox. One could never know these days.

“Happens all the time.” Smiling to herself as her eyebrow arched, Ashley’s confidence in Lupita grew. She’d definitely chosen the right person to spy on Javier.

“Well, I’ve got your back. You want me to keep tabs? That’s what I plan to do.” Lupita rose to leave, giving Ashley a short nod. “We ladies have to stick together.”

Ashley tried and failed to suppress a giggle. “Well, some of us, at least.”

Lupita’s expression darkened. “What do you mean?”

“Be on your guard. Not all the ladies here are worth trusting.” Ashley curled a finger, drawing Lupita down at eye level with her. “Watch out for Mara.”

Pursing her lips, Lupita gave a curt nod. “Mr. Bainbridge’s assistant. That makes sense.”

“You didn’t hear this from me. But rumor has it, she had to do some favors for him to get the position.” Ashley fought to hold back the laughter as she mimed penetration with her hands.

Her assistant appeared to be eating every last bit of the bullshit Ashley was feeding her.

Lupita lowered herself back into the chair. “I thought he had a girlfriend.”

“Oh, he does. Sort of.” With a casual wave of her hand, Ashley leaned back in her chair. The change of position sent her back into a spasm. She let out a yipe before she could stop herself.

“Are you okay?”

“Overdid it at the gym. Ever miss a session and double up on leg and abs day?” Ashley reached for the pill bottle in her top desk drawer and popped two painkillers, chasing them with the rest of her coffee. “Everything from my back to my knees feels like it’s on fire.”

“You don’t need to do that. You’re perfect.”

Such a sweet, naive thing.

Ashley couldn’t have been assigned a more perfect patsy. The more bullshit Lupita believed, the better. “Got to keep it tight around here if I want to keep my job.” Miming as if she were squeezing a pair of boobs, Ashley hoped Lupita got the hint. “This is fashion, after all.”

Patting the edge of the desk, Lupita stood again. “I got you. Don’t worry.”

“Let me know when he gets back from his nooner with the girlfriend.” Ashley tossed out one last little piece of bait to see if she’d bite.

Lupita stopped midway to the door and turned her head. “Is that Sky Stryker or Delia Shaw?”

Sneaky. She already knows Javier’s friends by name.

But Ashley hadn’t dropped them yet. She narrowed her eyes at the woman. Maybe Lupita wasn’t as transparent as she seemed. She’d have to keep a close watch on her assistant. Make sure she was certain before sending her on any additional fact-finding missions.

Ashley turned to face the computer again. “Sky.”

This time, Lupita took the hint and walked out of the office.

Ashley growled the name under her breath. “Sky Stryker.”

That uppity redhead was a colossal pain in her ass. A rising star like her cousin before her, Sky was all over the internet. If she wasn’t helping the NYPD with their cases, she was posting about it on her blog. And the readers were eating up every word. Then, of course, she was a published author. With all the success she had, Sky had to be sleeping with someone.

From a distance, she was a bargain-basement Megan Nowicki, but every time Ashley got close enough to see her face, she wanted to grab a pen and play connect the dots.

Too bad that idiot Dustin Wint had to go and screw up. After Megan was accidentally killed during the kidnapping process, Sky should have been an easy nab. Her capture was supposed to make up for Megan’s loss and put Ashley back on the ladder to the big leagues.

Instead, thanks to Dustin’s failures, Sky was never abducted, and Ashley had been forced to work extra hard to repair her relationship with the boss. He still didn’t fully trust her. Probably assumed she would fuck up again.

“No excuse. No blame. You do the job right or you’re out.”

That was what he’d told her. He was the top dog. The almighty puppet master. If she wanted to get anywhere, she had to kiss his ring and his ass. And the biggest ass of them all was the guy he’d told her to supervise.

Ashley didn’t dare complain. And luckily for her, neither had the little prick she was babysitting at the warehouse. Fear of the boss was the only thing keeping them in check. Ashley would have loved nothing more than to tie the man up and cut him to pieces, bit by disgusting bit.

Just thinking about him sent her blood boiling. A control freak with an ego a mile wide. He thought he was hot shit. Yet he wasn’t untouchable. The boss had made that clear when he put her in charge of the man.

Despite his disrespectful attitude, Ashley planned on using his abilities to her advantage. The asshole was going to help her finally destroy Sky in a horrible, delightfully brutal manner. Putting up with him for now would be worth it in the end.

“Patience.” Ashley pressed her palms flat on her desk and gritted her teeth. “You’ve already set things in motion. It won’t be long before the little man-bitch is caught and sent off to jail.”

After all, someone had to take the fall for their little endeavors.

19

Sky had parted with Delia and Sami for the sake of “taking a quick lunch break.” But the truth was that she’d suddenly wanted—needed—to see Javier. The idea took over every other thought.

One quick text, requesting a “lunch date,” was met with his nearly immediate reply. She’d hurried home, and Javier had arrived like a knight in single-breast wool-and-silk-blend armor.

Aware that lunch meant food, Sky dug around in her fridge while Javier took a seat on the couch. “There are some leftovers from last night, actually. Mr. Lee’s still sound good?”

“Whatever you want.” Javier’s voice carried through the studio. “I’m not really that⁠—”

Sky popped her head up, waiting for the end of his sentence, only to discover Javier staring at the cluttered mess on the coffee table.

“What is that?” Javier swiped the book peeking out from under a pile of napkins as he crossed the room to retake his seat.

Embarrassment warmed her cheeks the instant Sky realized what he’d grabbed. As popular as that book had become, even a guy like Javier would be well aware of the naughty things found inside the cover.

He settled against the couch cushions, clucking his tongue and shaking his head. “Can’t say I’m shocked. Though I am intrigued.”

He flipped through the pages, lips twitching as his chocolate-brown eyes sparkled.

Kill me now.

Sky attempted a nonchalant shrug. “It’s popular. And as a writer, I need to keep up with the trends…even in other genres.” It was the flimsiest of excuses, and no way would Javier buy it, but she had to say something.

Which was exactly what Javier did, leaving her in awkward silence as he continued to peruse the book.

“Whatever. So I’m reading the ‘mommy porn’ book.” Sky opted for cool indifference. But that, too, failed to coax a response from Javier. “Should I leave you two alone? Clearly, you’re enjoying it.” With a huff, she crossed the room and settled onto the other end of the couch.

Javier lowered the book and turned his attention toward her with the shadow of a mischievous smile. “Would it surprise you to know I’ve already read it?”

Never in a million bleeping years did I expect that answer.

“What? Why?” She’d never seen him pick up a book, let alone a tome filled with erotic content like that one. He could read, obviously, but that? No. Not Javier.

“It’s stimulating. That much it got right, but it’s a pretty poor representation of what actually goes on in the BDSM world.” There it was again. The slight twist of his lip. As if he was in on some kind of inside joke.

What exactly was he trying to say? Was he into that?

Sky’s mind flashed back to the club. Did he secretly go to a place like that?

So many questions that needed answers. Sky squirmed against the cushions. Sometimes, knowledge was worse than ignorance. She still hadn’t settled her feelings on BDSM. Intriguing, sure. But she’d only caught a glimpse of what that world offered. She wasn’t ready to admit to actually liking it.

In her mind’s eye, she saw the whips that had stopped her in her tracks back at the club. They came in so many sizes and colors. While some looked like serious implements of torture, others, she’d learned, could tickle in the most delicious ways.

“Are you okay?” Javier’s calm voice pulled her back from the swarm of thoughts cluttering her head.

“Yeah.” She stood and headed into the kitchenette to grab a water bottle for her sudden extreme case of dry mouth. “You want a water?”

“Did I scare you?”

Scared was probably not the right word. She chewed her lip, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

“Sky—”

“I’m fine.” She swiped two bottles from the fridge and turned around to find Javier standing behind her.

She nearly dropped the drinks.

Javier filled the gap between the kitchenette and living space. “Talk to me. I don’t like it when things are weird between us. I…” The sudden way he cut himself off with that throat-clearing cough spoke volumes.

Sky searched his face. Javier had revealed something intensely private. An interest and possible participation in the BDSM lifestyle.

Some part of Sky wanted to return the favor. Tit for tat. Reveal a secret of her own to even the score.

Maybe it was the memories of the club creating a haze in her brain or the fact that she was having this conversation with Javier, a man who could bring out the most awkward and intense feelings no matter how hard Sky tried to ignore them. Either way, she struggled to find the words to sum up exactly what she felt.

“We’re good. Do you want the water?” She held the bottle out for him.

Javier was a statue, standing firm in place, arms still folded across his chest. “That stuff in the book you’re reading isn’t a healthy representation of sexual play. I just thought you should know. That’s all.”

Sky opened her mouth to speak, but he held a hand up to silence her.

“I didn’t mean to offend you or suggest you were getting yourself into anything dangerous. Honestly. I just wanted to make sure you knew there’s a difference.”

“I do, actually…know the difference.” The moment the words left Sky’s mouth, she ducked behind her water bottle, taking a good long pull so she wouldn’t have to say more.

He lifted a brow, a hint of amusement on his face. “Oh?”

“Safe, sane, and consensual.” Was this some sort of game to him? “I’m also aware of the difference between fiction and non, just in case you were wondering.”

Javier held his hands out in surrender. “I’m sorry. It’s just…” He took a breath. “Since the book looked like it had been read a few times, added to how you reacted to me mentioning it…I worried you thought I was some kind of pervert. And I didn’t want your opinion colored by that book. Okay?”

“What? C’mon now. I don’t think you’re a pervert. Not at all.” She gritted her teeth. “Now will you take the damn water?” She waved the bottle at him, and when he finally took it, she headed back to the living area. “That book is not my only source on BDSM. Delia and I visited a woman who goes by Mistress Emerald down at the Whips and Chains Club. Callie sent us there when we first saw the videos of Kelsey.”

A wave of guilt washed over Sky. This wasn’t the lunch break she’d led Sami and Delia to believe she was taking. This was something else entirely.

I have a case to solve. What am I doing? Why did I ask him to drop everything and come over?

Javier stopped short of the couch, standing so the coffee table was a physical barrier between them, and stared at her, as if waiting for her to say something.

Hoping to cover her awkward pause, she cleared her throat and coughed. “Anyway, she was the first to confirm the video was definitely not something she or her patrons engaged in.”

Javier angled his head toward the book resting at the corner of the table. “Is that why you started reading that?”

“I told you. Reading is just as much a part of my job as writing is,” she half lied, unable to admit just how much it revved her motor. “But I’m more than a little curious how you’re so familiar with the whole BDSM…thing.”

His breath hitched in his chest. Such a strange thing to see from him. Javier typically presented himself like a rock, sturdy and strong. But at that moment, the way he stood there, his nervousness on full display, Sky wondered how thin that rough outer layer truly was.

Maybe it was her.

Now more than ever, Sky second-guessed the decision she’d made all those months ago. Maybe the strain of trying to play friends while ignoring the potential for so much more was the truly damaging stressor for them. Maybe the thought of losing her was just as much his Achilles’ heel as it was hers.

She held her breath. Maybe this puzzle didn’t need solving because it had never been a true problem to begin with.

The awkwardness of their silence thickened the air around them. Sky wished he would say something. Anything. Her own brain, already on overdrive, was heading full speed into a dead end.

BDSM. She reminded herself of the last thing she’d said before he went quiet and her train of thought completely derailed.

How does he know so much about it?

“Were you a master at one point?” She blurted out the question before she could stop herself. To cover her nerves, Sky added the brightest smile she could muster. “Strong. Self-assured. I could see you in that role.”

The compliment seemed to soften his hard-set features.

His Adam’s apple bobbed with a forceful swallow, but Javier’s flat expression betrayed no emotion. “Dominant is the role I preferred to play…in the past.”

She sipped from her water bottle, relishing the cold liquid as it slid down her throat. “Is that something you intend to play again in the future?”

Who are you, and what did you do with my former self? Aliens. They took me overnight. Sky Stryker does not ask these types of questions. Not of Javier.

But when would she ever again get the opportunity to have this conversation?

The truth was, after visiting the Whips and Chains Club, her internal world had shifted. Curiosity…maybe. A passing interest…more than likely. Labels didn’t matter. But some part of her needed the answer.

And Javier was the only man she trusted enough to explore this darker side of her sexuality with.

Sucking in her bottom lip, Sky pinned it with her teeth, awaiting his answer.

Javier’s eyes closed as he took a breath. He shifted from one foot to the other and exhaled. When his eyes opened, they locked onto her face as if she were the only thing worth seeing.

Sky swallowed hard. There was an almost predatory quality to his unwavering glare, and yet, dangerous as it was, she couldn’t turn away.

Softening her expression, she kept her gaze locked with his. “I have to know.”

Javier was the first to break eye contact. “Those roles are reserved for partners who have a bond of trust between them. Dominant and submissive are titles to be respected. It’s not something to be shared lightly. With the right woman, and only if she’s willing.”

He couldn’t possibly realize the profound impact those words had on her. Knees turning to jelly, Sky dropped down onto the couch. “That sounds,” like something I wouldn’t mind trying with you, “a lot like what Mistress Emerald said.”

Javier remained standing, though his gaze followed her. “What exactly did this Mistress Emerald…show you?”

The paddle. The flogger. The spanking bench. And the desire to try something like that again.

Heat warmed her cheeks again. Turning away, she searched the apartment for something else to focus on so she might calm down. The office chair caught her attention as her overactive imagination fed her an image of Javier sitting on it like a throne and ordering her over his lap for being naughty.

Dammit. Down, girl! Idle that motor.

Caught between the forbidden thoughts she desperately wanted to reveal and the potential consequences of actually doing so, Sky struggled to answer him. “She…um…cleared up some misconceptions. With a…personal demonstration.”

“Really?” His left eyebrow arched. “And was it a good thing?”

“It was intriguing.” Sky caught the beginnings of that lopsided grin she adored. “Something to investigate further. With a trusted partner. Like you said.” She couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. But as she spoke them, Javier’s smile widened.

“Maybe someone like⁠—”

“You.” The word flung from her lips, hitching a ride on her whispered breath.

She couldn’t take it back now. Terrified as she was about ruining their friendship, there was no ignoring the way her heart jumped at the thought of exploring her newfound desires with Javier.

“With me?” He blinked twice. With slow, deliberate care, he set his bottle on the coffee table. When he straightened, his eyes searched her face.

Beneath his gaze, heat rose up Sky’s neck and onto her cheeks. Slowly, she forced herself to look into his eyes. The glitter of desire shined through his pupils, setting off butterflies in her stomach. Before she lost her nerve, she nodded.

Javier didn’t move. Once more, his eyes bored into hers, and the intensity sent ripples of goose bumps across her skin. “Are you sure?”

Her heart raced so fast, Sky swore she felt the blood pumping through her veins. This was definitely not the way she’d expected their lunch date to turn out.

Yes. Just say yes.

She hadn’t been with a man in longer than she could remember. Javier had proved time and time again that he was the real thing and then some. She’d tortured herself, denying her attraction while she fought to keep him at arm’s length. And for what reason? It was only making them miserable and awkward around each other.

But if it all went south, Sky would be crushed.

Can’t think like that now. Don’t doom it before it even begins.

She swallowed hard. “Yes,” she managed to say in a shredded whisper.

The adrenaline high she was riding might have had something to do with her ridiculous choice of words, but the sentiment rang true. She was taking a leap of faith and going in blind.

Loosening his tie, Javier pulled it from around his neck and unfastened the top button of his shirt. He walked around the coffee table and knelt before her on the oak hardwood floor. “What do you want me to show you?”

The smell of his cologne as he came almost nose to nose with her was intoxicating. A heady blend of sage and sandalwood with notes of citrus that begged her to get closer and breathe him all in. She gulped and tried to open her mouth to speak, but words failed her.

“I have to know your expectations before we can do anything. That’s how this works. Do you understand?” He rested a hand on her knee, and like a jolt of electricity, her body came alive.

Holding herself still for fear of exploding off the couch like a rocket, Sky responded with a shaky nod.

Javier’s brow furrowed. “I’m not saying this to scare you.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Javier.” She put her hand over his as the butterflies danced in her belly. “But I have nothing to base expectations on. You’re the dom. I trust you to show me the way.”

Something in what she’d said struck a nerve. She caught the flash of excitement in Javier’s lusty eyes. The hand he’d left on her knee slid up to her thigh, claiming new ground with a possessive squeeze.

“Okay.” He jerked his chin at the coffee table. “Let me ask you this. What excites you in that book?”

Everything.

That wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

She shrugged, not sure where to start. “Restraint. I guess.”

“All right.” His voice was gentle, coaxing. “What else?”

Enough with the questions already.

Adrenaline surged through Sky’s body, causing her knee to bounce with the rhythm of her pounding heart. If he didn’t make a move soon, she just might take matters into her own hands.

His grip tightened around Sky’s thigh, and her knee stopped bouncing.

Maybe the questions were part of the play. For all she knew, Javier had already stepped into his role as the dom. Perhaps that was why he seemed dead set on forcing her to put her naughty thoughts and desires into words.

Admit that you got a thrill from the cat-o’-nine-tails.

“Uh…there was this whip thing.”

“How are you with pain?” His deadpan delivery sent another wave of goose bumps rushing down her arms.

Her mouth went dry. “No pain.”

“Submission and restraint with sensory play. See, that wasn’t so hard to tell me, was it?” He winked. “Now I know what you expect from me.”

“How about you answer the same?” She fired back at him with her usual level of snark.

See how he enjoys being made to reveal his secrets with such a nonchalant response.

Before Sky realized what was happening, Javier caught both of her wrists with a loop of his tie and pulled tight. Forcing her hands together, he bound them with a knot in her lap. “My role is the dominant. I’ll let that kind of tone slide this once, but do it again, and there will be repercussions. I expect only one thing. Obedience. When we’re at play, you will respectfully do as you’re told.”

But even as he used a stern voice to deliver his warning, the smile on his face reassured her that this was, in fact, playtime.

Eyes widening, Sky replied with a dutiful nod. She didn’t have a clue what she was getting herself into, but she did know that she trusted Javier.

“The first and most important rule you must follow…and I do mean the most important. This supersedes any other orders or commands I give you. If anything we do crosses the line or comes dangerously close to crossing a personal boundary, I want you to tell me to stop. This is supposed to be fun for both of us.” He stroked his fingers up the inside of her arm. “Understand?”

That was one rule she could get behind. As his caress sent shivers over her skin, Sky closed her eyes with a soft moan. “Yes, sir.”

20

Lights flashed along with the familiar click of the camera’s shutter.

“Can you lie down on the floor for me? Prop onto your elbows and…open your legs.” The photographer gave the order as he continued to snap shots.

Delia lowered herself to the floor slowly as she attempted to peer past the bright umbrella lights pointed at her. The photographer’s voice came through loud and clear, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

Footsteps thudded against the concrete floor. “Keep your mouth shut, mind your attitude, and do whatever the hell I tell you to.” The disembodied voice of the cameraman shouted. “Otherwise, you can kiss your payment goodbye. Understood?”

The lights blinked in and out along with the camera shutter. In the negative space between light and dark, Delia glimpsed a white mask.

Her heart skipped a beat.

The incessant click of the camera continued.

“Turn around and get on all fours.” The photographer barked his commands as another figure appeared—an older man. He walked casually toward Delia, gripping her shoulders with his rough hands.

A sinister gaze stared her down from behind an expressionless white mask that concealed the older man’s identity like a modern-day phantom of the opera. He wore a well-fitting suit that probably cost more than Delia made in a month.

His voice a husky whisper, he addressed the man with the camera. “How about she and I take some pictures now?” With his distinguished head full of salt-and-pepper hair, he oozed the entitlement of wealth.

“No!” Delia swung her fist as she sprang up in bed. “I don’t care about the money. Let me go, you bastard!”

Her fist connected with flesh, earning a satisfying grunt of discomfort.

Someone groaned. “Dammit, Delia.”

In the haze between sleep and awake, Delia struggled to focus. The afternoon light pouring into the office window erased the space where the masked man had been standing moments earlier. Beside her lay Sami, rubbing the side of his face.

She slapped a hand across her mouth. “Oh, my god, babe. I’m so sorry.”

It was just a nightmare.

After receiving a text from Sky saying she had a few things to take care of before returning to Hayat Investigations, Delia and Sami had made the all-too-easy decision to use the pullout bed in the office couch to catch some shut-eye.

A great idea at the time. She hadn’t been sleeping well. But now Delia wished she’d never closed her eyes.

“It’s all right.” Sami sat up, his brows knitted in concern. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Delia couldn’t believe she had struck him. “I am so, so sorry. I just…it was a nightmare. I was back at that shady…special gig…and the Terror showed up again.” Her heart thudded, pounding with frightening intensity, as if it were trying to break free from her chest. Throat burning, Delia tried to swallow the flood of emotions. “It was so real. Like I was back there…about to…”

Sami reached out and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

His words should have soothed her, but the dam burst, and tears leaked out from the corners of her eyes.

In the throes of a full-on ugly cry, Delia couldn’t help the loud hiccupping sobs that escaped her throat. The memory of those rough hands all over her body. Camera flashes, documenting the whole ordeal.

He smoothed a hand down her back. “I’ve got you. Just cry.”

Instinct had all of Delia’s muscles tensing. This was Sami. Her loving boyfriend. There was no reason for her to be on edge, but all she could think of was the masked man. The things he had done to her.

Yanking herself back, Delia put her hands out in front of her, inserting space between her body and Sami’s. “I just…just…I…need.” Her heart raced, blood pumping so loud it sounded like thunder in her ears. Delia couldn’t concentrate or find the right words to speak.

Sami scooted to the edge of the mattress and stood. His gaze was soft. “It’s okay. How about I get you a glass of water?”

Bless him. He was an angel.

Unable to answer, Delia wobbled her head, not quite a nod of confirmation or a shake of denial.

She followed him with her eyes as he left the room.

I’m safe. I’m with my boyfriend. He would never hurt me.

The words were true enough, but they weren’t bringing her any comfort. Her heart refused to settle, her body electrified with frantic energy that she couldn’t discharge without an outlet of some kind.

She rose, starting to pace the small room. Five steps one way and then the other. Not much in the way of space to walk, but moving helped.

We put away the guys from the Mill. They’re all gone now.

But were they? Maybe in name, but the horror Delia had gone through—and worse—was being visited on Kelsey.

“Here’s some water.” Sami appeared at the door, holding a glass. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No.” Delia crossed the room and took the glass. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

One side of his lips turned up at the corner. “Not the first time I’ve taken a hit. Won’t be the last.”

She gulped. “Still. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Did you do it on purpose?”

Her gaze flew to his face. “What? No. Of course not.”

“Then don’t worry about it.” He tilted his head. “Something is clearly bothering you. That’s what we should be worried about.”

“So you don’t get hit again?” She sipped the water, gazing up at him over the rim of the glass.

“Well, that’s one reason, yeah.” He ran a hand through the loose strands of his sleep-tangled hair. “But more importantly, I don’t want you having nightmares. It’s this case, isn’t it? It’s churning everything up for you again.”

“I guess.” Delia studied the glass of water in her hands. “I just have Kelsey on my mind constantly, and it reminds me of what happened with the Mill.”

“I get that. I have days where I’m back in Afghanistan.” Sami sat on the edge of the mattress. “Waking up, I expect to be greeted by sirens or explosions. Anytime I hear about conflicts on the news, it takes me back too.”

“What can I do?”

“Short of finding Kelsey?” He shrugged. “You lean on your friends. Having support, especially in times of crisis, is the number one thing to combat PTSD.”

“I don’t have⁠—”

He silenced her with a stare, the intensity of his look causing her to falter.

She swallowed hard. “Okay. Maybe I do.”

“You don’t have to have lived through a war to have PTSD. And frankly, what you went through was pretty damn traumatic. It would be a miracle if you didn’t have any lasting trauma triggers.”

“Fine.” Sighing, she took another sip from her glass. “What else can I do?”

“Forgive yourself.”

Those two words hit Delia with the force of Thor’s hammer. As if it were that simple. And how could he possibly ask her to forgive herself if she let Kelsey down? If she couldn’t find that horrible man, she wasn’t sure she could.

His eyes locked onto hers. “I mean it. We can’t control the world or the people in it, no matter how much we might want to. Forgive yourself for what happened back then.”

“I know I wasn’t the bad guy in that situation.”

“But have you forgiven yourself for going that night? You took the job. I’ll bet deep down you still blame yourself for that much, at least.”

Her breath caught. How dare he have a window into her mind like that?

Sami wasn’t wrong, though. She had gotten her revenge, helped to put away Michael Taylor, the Terror, and ensured the Mill’s official undoing. That had been more than cathartic.

Yet she had never forgiven herself for accepting the job that night.

Can I?

“If it were easy, everyone would do it,” Sami said, answering her unspoken thought.

She sat on the bed next to him. “But how does that help Kelsey?”

“On the surface? It doesn’t. But it helps you to function. And if you are running at your best, you can do more to help those around you.”

Sniffling, Delia wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Sami held out his arms but made no attempt to move closer. The offer was there. She recognized it. Delia wanted to cling to him for strength, but she couldn’t erase the image of the masked man from her mind.

After an awkward moment of silence, she closed the gap.

Her whole chest ached as she pressed against him. She wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his shoulder, trying not to cling as if her life depended on the contact.

He traced gentle circles on her back. “Whatever you need. I’m here for you.”

His touch was so tender.

Probably afraid to hold on too tight.

Not that I would blame him. I’m a wreck, and for all he knows, I might take another swing at any moment.

But Sami didn’t look upset. He hadn’t tried to fight back.

He wasn’t mad. So why did she feel so guilty?

He wanted her to forgive herself for the wrong choices she’d made. She’d certainly paid the price for them. If given the opportunity to choose differently, would she? Maybe that was the reason she couldn’t forgive herself.

When push came to shove, people did what they had to do in order to survive. That was why she’d agreed to the job that led her to the Mill. She needed the money.

How long before she needed money again?

No.

Delia forced the thought away as she focused on the strong, steady beat of Sami’s heart. He was there for her. Callie and Sky were there for her too. And because of the support she was blessed with, she would never have to make terrible decisions like that again.

She’d learned the lesson that surrounding herself with good people was the catalyst in changing her fate. If not for her run-in with the Mill, she might never have reached out to Sky.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Sami’s bass voice rumbled against her ear, drowning out the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat.

She pulled back, seeking his eyes. “Who says stuff like that?”

He grinned. “Me.”

She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m glad to have you. Lucky, really.”

“I’d say it was the other way around. I don’t deserve a hottie like you.” Sami turned his head, cheeks blooming with a bashful glow. “I don’t know why you picked me, but I’m grateful every day you did.”

“I think I figured out how I can forgive myself.” Reaching up a hand, she tugged at his face, bringing him around to meet her eyes again. “I know what saved me. Good people like you having my back.”

“Always.” He leaned in for a quick kiss. “But we’ve been here from the beginning. Why are you just now feeling like you can forgive yourself?”

“Kelsey and other models like me have fallen prey to bad guys like this and the Mill because we are all so isolated. Even with roommates. Our lives are so disconnected.” She ran her fingers through his soft hair. “I think, at least for Nadine’s girls, I want to create some kind of backup system so everyone knows they’re not alone.”

He studied her for a moment, admiration in his gaze. “How do you do it?”

“What?”

“Manage to take self-healing and find a way to apply it to other people? You are truly amazing.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I was thinking about why I took the gig. At the time, I was desperate. People without a safety net make risky decisions out of desperation. That’s what got me in trouble.”

If Delia could stop just one more model from falling prey to assholes, maybe then she could forgive herself.

Sami glanced out the window. “Sky should be back anytime now. We need to get down to the office. Has she texted you?”

Delia checked her phone. “No. But it’s two thirty. She’s gotta be back soon, and you’re right. We should get down there. Hopefully she’s not already waiting.” After another kiss, Delia pulled away to clean herself up and erase all evidence of her ugly-crying episode.

21

Javier didn’t want the moment to end. As long as they remained like this, everything was perfect. But the incessant buzzing of Sky’s phone against the wood top of her desk demanded answer.

She rolled to face him, grazing the tip of his nose with her lips before she flung back the sheet and pulled on a robe. “I’ll be right back.”

He ran the last few hours over in his mind, still wondering how he had gone from arguing with Sky to tying her to the bed.

The icy grip of fear wormed its way up his spine. No one in their group had an inkling of his fetish for dominance. Was that the kind of thing women talked about with each other? What if Sky told Delia about their little tryst?

If Delia tells Sami, I’ll never hear the end of it.

He scratched his ear. Maybe it wouldn’t matter. Sky had definitely been into the little he’d shown her.

No pain. That was where she drew the line. And as much fun as he’d had making her crazy with need, he hadn’t taken their sensory play any further.

Javier’s gaze lingered on the curve of her ass beneath her robe as she stood with her back to him, staring at her phone screen. “You coming back for round three?”

Sky didn’t look up. She set her phone down and dropped into her office chair. Whatever had her attention, it must have been important.

Work. Her work is important. As is mine. As is Fashion Week. That giant annual event I have coming up that demands all my focus.

Javier was only supposed to stop by for lunch, but that had long since come and gone. Shadows stretched through the window, suggesting it was mid to late afternoon.

Sky slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, no.” Tears flooded her eyes as she turned to him and pointed at the phone.

Only one thing could have produced a reaction like that.

Javier was up in a flash. “Another one?”

There was no need for her to verbally confirm it. She had the video up on the screen. As the screams began to emanate from her phone, her eyes widened with horror.

“You don’t need to watch it.” Javier placed his hand on her shoulder. “Seriously. Don’t torture yourself.”

“Kelsey’s in this video. I have to watch.”

As much as he wanted to save her from herself, Javier couldn’t stop her. “Okay. Then I’m watching it with you.”

Javier regretted the words the moment they leaped from his lips.

Unlike the last two videos, which were obviously meant to be torture porn, this one didn’t feature the masked man. Instead, Kelsey was joined by a blond woman.

Both of the ladies looked as if they’d been through hell. They sported numerous fresh bruises across their naked bodies.

But Kelsey was in far worse shape. Bleeding cuts and half-healed wounds covered nearly every inch of her skin. Burns and gouges intermixed with grime and dried blood. She resembled a walking corpse more than a rising talent.

If hell is real, Kelsey’s already there.

The scene was set for torture. A grotesque doctor’s exam table sat waiting for an occupant.

Javier’s stomach churned at the thought of what warped enjoyment people could get from that sort of violation.

A man’s voice, distorted by a loudspeaker, crackled in the silence. “Last warning. Fight now, and the victor goes free. Do nothing, and both of you die. Five seconds.”

Between taunts, Javier picked up a faint whisper in the background. Maybe it was feedback or distortion caused by the speakers. He leaned closer. It was hard to tell.

At the urging of the voice, the two women glared at each other. Their previous body language had suggested they didn’t want to fight, but the promise of certain death seemed enough to spur them into action.

The blond woman struck first, sending her sharp elbow straight into Kelsey’s chest. A dirty move, but one that allowed the blond to cut across the room where a table waited.

The cameras zoomed in on an array of implements glistening on the stainless steel surface. Various dildos and plugs were for sexual play, but other, more disturbing items lay within easy reach. Surgical tools, knives, hammers, wrenches. A drill.

Javier’s stomach churned.

Chancing a glance at Sky, he could tell she felt just as sick. Every freckle stood in deep contrast against her pale complexion.

Another gasp escaped before Sky slapped her hand over her mouth. By the time Javier turned his attention back to the screen, the blond had Kelsey on the floor. A knife in her right hand was poised and ready to strike, but she couldn’t seem to find an opening.

Kelsey struggled against the weight of her opponent. Both of her hands were engaged—grabbing, punching, slapping—as she fought hard to keep the blond from getting a clean strike.

All the while, the man’s voice continued to urge them on. “Get her in the chair. Strap her down. Use the gifts you’ve been given and make her suffer.”

“We don’t need to watch any more of this.” Javier turned his head to the side as he reached a hand out to Sky. “Please. Just turn it off.”

“No.” Sky remained riveted to the screen. “I have to know what happens.”

“I told you to use the tools, you dumb bitch. Get her in the chair!”

But the blond was no longer listening to the man. Lost in a madness no doubt fueled by pure survival instincts, she punched Kelsey in the head twice, knocking the model into a stupor that ended all her attempts to defend herself.

As Kelsey’s arms fell limp, the blond aimed for her neck, bringing the knife down over and over while Kelsey’s blood spurted and sprayed.

Javier pulled Sky to his chest, shielding her face from the video as he gently stroked her back.

Sky moaned. “She’s gone, Javier. She’s gone.”

Against his better judgment, Javier glanced at the screen again.

The camera remained focused on Kelsey, motionless on the ground as a pool of blood spread out from her body.

“Oh, god, she’s dead!” Sky clawed at his chest as she sobbed.

Holding her tightly as she broke down, Javier waited. Numbness took over as he stared, unable to take his eyes off the last frame.

Get up, Kelsey. Please.

Snuff films were a thing of legend, but rarely were they real. Yet here he was, audience to the genuine article.

The camera panned back to the blond, zooming in on her as she dropped the knife and stared at Kelsey’s dead body, tears streaming down her cheeks. The video lingered for a few seconds on her utter shock at what she’d done before it cut off.

“‘Kelsey Makes a Friend.’” Sky swiped at her eyes with both hands. “That’s the subject line.”

Javier’s blood boiled. “This guy is a sick son of a bitch. Deranged.”

Sky met his gaze, her lips set in a tight line. “I’m sending this to Delia and Sami immediately. Detective Houghton too. I have to get back to his office. You coming?”

“I wish I could.” Javier could only imagine what Arthur would say if he simply never came back from lunch. “But I’ve got to at least finish up a few things at GDL before the day is out. Fashion Week is a bitch to prepare for.”

Sky’s mouth curved downward, showing her disappointment. “It’s not your fault. You have a job and a boss that’re counting on you.” She turned away, her hair falling in front of her face. “I guess I’ll see you…whenever.”

Something tugged in Javier’s gut. He caught her face in his hands. “Is that what we’re doing? Randomly hooking up whenever?”

Sky pulled away and walked back to the bed. “Can we not do the ‘overcomplicating things’ talk?” She began gathering her clothes from the floor. “We just watched Kelsey get stabbed to death. I can’t think about this right now. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Her words were a slap across Javier’s face. At least that would have hurt less. Yes, there was an investigation to deal with, and yes, it was awful. Horrendous.

But in this group of friends, something sinister was always afoot. If he waited for Sky’s life to become complication free to get involved with her, he would die of old age before anything happened.

“It’s a big deal to me.” Javier fastened his pants and retrieved his button-down shirt from the nightstand. He watched Sky pull on her jeans. It seemed that sex and relationships were clearly two separate things in her mind.

Would have been nice to know that before I shared myself with you so freely.

He picked his jacket up from the couch. “Guess I’ll see you later.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” She tucked a tousled auburn lock behind her ear. “Javier, stop.”

He found his shoes under the coffee table and bent to grab them. As he came up, Sky stood in front of him, her half-clothed body blocking the path to the door.

“Listen.” Her voice was half growl, half plea. “Before you take my words the wrong way, just know that I suck at relationships. I screw them up. But I don’t want to screw it up with you. So can we please just not jinx this by trying to slap a label on it?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have let himself get his hopes up. Sky had been honest with him when she’d said she wanted to stay friends because she didn’t want to lose him. If he’d listened, his heart wouldn’t currently be trying to rip itself in two. At least he could still see her. He could still cuddle with her and enjoy her body.

He just couldn’t call her his girlfriend.

“Say something. Please.” Sky’s voice warbled with emotion.

“Sure. We’ll keep it loose.” Javier lifted his shoulder in a casual shrug. “Whatever you want.”

She lifted up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”

His heart sank even as he forced a smile. “No problem, friend.”

22

Sami didn’t hear the chime of the front office door. Callie had arrived shortly after he and Delia reentered the business, and the three of them had watched the video Sky sent over together.

It wasn’t until Sky cleared her throat that any of them realized she was there.

Sky’s gaze was fixed on Delia’s laptop sitting on the coffee table. “You watched it.”

Sami nodded, glancing from Callie’s grim expression to Delia’s tear-streaked face. “We did.”

“She’s dead.” Delia didn’t even look at Sky as she spoke.

“That bastard is going down.” Callie’s normal maternal tone had morphed into something hard and determined. Something scary and most likely much more reminiscent of her days in the FBI.

Sami couldn’t have agreed more. “He’s a total psychopath.”

Delia swiped at her dripping mascara. “I need to use the restroom.” She took off down the hallway, brushing past Sky without making eye contact.

Wanting to go after her, Sami rose, but Callie’s voice rang out like a verbal barrier between him and the door. “Give her a moment.”

“She’s really not doing so great today.” He collapsed back against the cushions of the couch with a groan. “We took a nap on lunch break, and she woke me up with a mean right cross.”

A smile curved Callie’s lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Shoulda had your guard up.”

“Hard to do when you’re off in la-la land and your girlfriend is being visited by the ghost of sexual assaults past.”

“The nightmares are back?” Sky grabbed the chair from in front of Sami’s desk and turned it around to face the couch. “She had some pretty rough nights after it all went down.”

He could only imagine. Thank goodness Delia had Sky and Callie back then. “Yeah. And now, with this torture porn, part of her is right back to square one. She puts on a great show for you guys, but she can’t hide everything from me.”

I would give anything to take her pain away.

“This isn’t a suitable case for her to be working on.” Callie’s gaze drifted down to the table where Delia’s laptop sat waiting. “Today’s video. It was on a whole new level.”

“I agree, but Delia insists.” Sami scrubbed his hands through his hair, undoing his ponytail. “And this? It’s actual snuff.”

“We have to stop this guy.” Sky twisted her fingers in knots, looking blankly at the floor.

The poor woman had gotten three videos now, all emailed directly to her for reasons none of them understood. With everything else she’d endured in her life, Sky had to be dangerously close to her breaking point.

“Forward the video to me, and I’ll let Houghton know.” Callie fished her phone from her purse. “They should see this sooner rather than later.”

Sky tapped her phone screen. “I sent it already.”

“It’s unthinkable.” Sami played with the elastic band that had been holding his hair, twisting and bending it between his fingers. “How do people even become what this guy is? Are they born that way? Is it inevitable?”

Callie studied him. “We could sit around discussing nature versus nurture, but that seems like an ‘in the rearview’ discussion. Right now, we need to focus on the investigation.”

Sami took a deep breath, resisting the urge to yell. Callie was only trying to help. “What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”

“From what I hear, you’ve been focused on the email trace. You have three videos now. Have you gone through them to look for any additional clues?”

Sky cringed, curling her legs up to her chest in her chair. Sami understood completely. The last thing he wanted to do was go through those videos again.

He swallowed hard and shook his head. “I haven’t spent a lot of time watching the videos. Once felt like more than enough. Call me crazy.”

“Don’t you go soft on me.” Callie leaned forward. “You’ve been through tougher shit than this. It’s a dirty job, but you’ve got to do it. If for nothing else than to bring Kelsey’s killer to justice.”

“He pitted another woman against Kelsey. Another freaking human being.” Sami hadn’t meant to shout, but the words came out at full volume. “How many more women is he abusing? How many videos? Is this how they all end up? What the f…”

Turning away, Sami gritted his teeth to stop himself from ranting. As much as he recoiled at the idea of subjecting himself to those videos again, if he wanted to help Delia stop reliving her trauma, end the horrific series of videos bombarding Sky, and save the lives of future women who were a week or a day or an hour away from being this nutjob’s next victims, bringing this bastard and his whole operation down was the way to do it.

Toughen up.

He peered down at the laptop. Just the thought of replaying the videos started a powerful wave of nausea up the back of his throat.

“C’mon, now. You’re not doing this alone.” Callie reached down and spun the laptop as she lifted the lid. “I worked a case once where we had to investigate some pretty nasty videos. They were staged to look real, and dammit if they didn’t turn my stomach with how brutal they got. But there was a difference with those.”

Sami leaned in closer, his chin hovering over the coffee table. “Okay. What was it?”

“Exit interviews.” Callie’s lip curled as she looked at the laptop. “At the ends of the worst ones, they brought the actresses back on. Happy and safe, the actresses would discuss how they felt through the scene. Their motivations. That kind of thing. They had fully consented to the torture depicted in the videos.” She stabbed her finger at the laptop. “This, however, looks like the real deal. The bleeding, Kelsey’s posture, her lack of chest movement in the ending scene.”

Sky wrapped her arms around herself. “The multiple stab wounds in her neck spurting out blood like a water hose from hell.”

“You’re both right. I have no doubt it’s real.” Sami sat back again, shoulders sagging as he pressed his weight into the cushions of the couch.

“So now we need to figure out who the other girl is. She looked beat up, but she was in better shape than Kelsey. Desperation will make anyone turn feral like that, so it’s likely she’s never hurt another soul before this was shot.” Crossing her arms again, Callie contemplated the ceiling. “There was something else. When he wasn’t taunting the girls, he was whispering something.”

Sami jerked his head up. “You heard it too? The whispers. I couldn’t make out a word of it.”

“They were too low with too much background noise. I can’t be sure what I’m picking up.” Callie’s brow wrinkled with frustration.

“I heard them too,” Sky admitted, tugging her chair closer to the coffee table. “But no idea what was being said.”

Sami moved to his desk, clicking away at his keyboard before his rear hit the seat cushion. “I have an audio mastering program that can isolate the man’s voice and allow me to get a better fix on the different channels.”

“There you go. Excellent idea.” Tapping her finger against her arm, Callie kept her focus on the ceiling, as if she were searching for an answer to come from above. “That girl…how do we…”

“Figure out who she is?” Sky finished the thought as Callie left her mumbling question hanging in the air.

“Exactly. We need a good image.” Lowering her head, she looked toward Sami. “Can you pull some stills from that video?”

Sami pulled the video back up. He should have thought of that already. “Absolutely. That’s easy.”

“Okay. Once you have some good stills, I’ll run them through some image searches to see if she pops up on social media. While I’m on that, you work on the audio. Let’s see if we can’t get something clear enough to make out what those whispers are about.”

Having a mission eased some of the tension. Sami still didn’t want to have to watch the video again, but doing so with purpose, and the hope of pulling real clues from it, made the task much easier to approach.

“Sky, can you put out a call on your blog along with the picture to see if anyone recognizes her?” Callie caught Sky’s eye. “We need to cross all our t’s and dot all our i’s so our bad guy doesn’t get away.”

“Of course.” Sky perked up considerably from her slumped position. “I’ll need the best pics Sami can pull.”

“On it.” Sami clenched his fists for a moment, steeling himself for the second round of watching “Kelsey Makes a Friend.”

“Excellent. We have a plan of action.” Callie nodded approvingly, casting a glance at the office door. “And when Delia comes back, she can join in if she’s up for it. Now. Let’s get to work.”

With a deep breath, Sami sent a silent prayer to the universe.

Please help us find this guy before he can hurt anyone else.

23

After stopping for a much-needed caffeine fix and an actual lunch, Javier spent the drive back to GDL with his mind completely fixed on Sky.

How could she have acted so cavalier? He almost felt used. If it were anyone other than Sky Stryker, he would. Things with her were never simple, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d known that if he slept with her, their relationship would only get more complicated.

She had her reasons. And she had stated plenty of times that she didn’t want them to be anything more than friends.

Javier sighed as he wove around a cab turning right. He couldn’t do that. Not now. Not with what they’d shared.

Whatever they were to each other now, they’d blown right past the friend zone, and there was no turning back.

Sky said she didn’t want to have “the talk,” but they’d have to at some point, whether she liked it or not. He couldn’t stand the idea of being more than a friend but less than her boyfriend. Something in between.

Maybe she wants to keep her options open.

Dante Houghton flashed through his mind. Javier’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. Dating other people was an arrangement he couldn’t be a part of. Not when it came to Sky.

His phone rang out from the middle console of his SUV. As if she could hear his distress, Sky’s name flashed across the screen.

“Miss me already?” Javier took the call, keeping his voice carefree.

“Ha. I’m not answering that.” Sky’s breath came quickly, like she’d been running hot laps around a city block. “I got a reply. A private message from a model named Amber responding to the photos I posted on my blog. The mystery girl fighting with Kelsey is someone named Mariela Navarro.”

“The person who sent the message was sure?” As excited as Sky was, Javier hoped to God the informant was correct. If this was a false lead, it would crush her.

“Sounds like there’s not even a question. This is what she wrote.” Sky blew out a breath. “‘That’s my friend. Her name is Mariela Navarro. I have been so worried. Haven’t seen her since she came by my shoot at City Hall Park last week. The photographer was flirting pretty hard with her. Don’t remember his name. I was going to ask her if she went out with him, but she hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts. If you know where she is, please tell her to call me.’”

“City Hall Park. Location rings a bell.” Javier racked his brain for further info. “I think we had a GDL shoot there last week or last month. That kind of thing is part of Ashley’s job.”

“There was definitely at least one shoot there last week with tons of models.” Sky fired out her words with increasing speed. “I was there with Delia, speaking to Frankie, Kelsey’s roommate. The place was swarming with photographers.”

Javier turned the scene around in his head. “Okay, so you think it might be this flirty photographer who took her?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time one of them turned out to be shady. And the quality of the videos points to someone professional.” Sky’s voice echoed, and Javier recognized she’d put him on speaker. “I’m going to text the rest of the group and fill them in.”

Before pulling into the GDL private parking garage, Javier peeked out at a sky that had shifted from orange to the gray-blue of twilight. With as long as it had taken him to make it back to work, chances were good he wouldn’t have to deal with Ashley.

“Hey. No promises we’ll find your guy, but I might actually be able to help here.”

Sky sucked in a quick breath. “How so?”

“If it’s a photographer you’re looking for, I can pull GDL’s contacts. If that was our shoot, I can pull up who we used for camera work that day.”

“Yes. Do it.” His offer only seemed to heighten Sky’s determination.

“You’re giving the orders now?” Javier let the joke slip without thinking it through.

For a moment, Sky said nothing, and Javier bit his lip as he waited for her to respond. Finally, her sweet, breathy purr broke through the silence. “Are you insinuating that I deserve a punishment?”

It was Javier’s turn to go quiet. He gulped down the longing and heat threatening to throw him completely off course. “Are you going to let me focus on this missing persons investigation for more than ten minutes at a time?”

Sky let out a long sigh that teetered on the edge of being a moan, probably entirely unaware of how the sound tortured him. “Fine. Go do the things. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Javier ended the call. He shook his head, unable to help the grin spreading across his face as he walked through the parking garage.

By now, few people—let alone Ashley—would still be at the office. A small mercy. After the world-toppling day he’d just experienced, dealing with other humans was a chore best avoided.

He pulled open the glass double doors and headed for the elevator.

As the doors parted, a dark-haired woman came rushing out and collided with him. Papers flew from her hand, littering the ground.

“Oh. Sorry.” The woman ducked to retrieve her papers.

Javier stooped to help her. As he handed a few of the discarded pages over, he met the woman’s dark eyes, instantly recognizing her. “Lupita? What are you doing working so late?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Bainbridge. I am so clumsy. Thank you.” Her frenzied pace to pick up her papers increased. “I was trying to make sense of all these reports so I could give Ms. Duncan an overview report tomorrow. Lost track of the time. I…”

Javier retrieved another page from the floor. He’d wondered how Ashley kept appearing to be so good at her job. Now it was clear. She was having her assistants do all the work. And that explained why she was burning through them with such speed.

“Make sure you document all your time. Especially if she has you working late like this.” He handed the last page over to her.

“Thank you. I will. Of course.” Lupita stood and smoothed out the wrinkles of her skirt with her free hand. “Are you just getting back from lunch?”

Busted.

Not that it really mattered. As long as the work got done, he could take a long lunch whenever he pleased. And this was hands down the best lunch break he’d ever had in his life.

He shoved the thought aside. Now was not the time to mentally go there.

Javier ran a hand through his hair. The doors of the elevator closed, blocking his escape. He’d hoped no one had noticed his extended absence. The office gossip was never something he wanted his name to be a part of.

“Some days, it’s better for me to work in silence.” He forced a casual shrug. “I find I’m more productive when there are fewer interruptions and distractions, especially when it’s time to go over financials or prepare for something as big as Fashion Week.”

“I didn’t mean to pry. Sorry, sir. It’s just…” She bit her lip as her gaze trailed over to the elevator door. “Ms. Duncan had asked after you. I think she was looking to speak with you about something.”

Dodged a bullet there.

Ashley had been a complete bitch lately. Malicious compliance. That was her new tactic. She was doing everything exactly as outlined in the company manual and using her authority to call out others attempting to bend the rules.

“She’s not still here, is she?” He gritted his teeth.

“No, sir. She left at exactly five.”

“Of course she did.” The elevator dinged just in time, and Javier rolled his eyes as he slipped between the parting doors. “I’ll check in with her tomorrow. Thank you for the heads-up. Don’t you work too late tonight on those reports.”

“Thank you, sir. I won’t.”

As the elevator doors closed, Javier let the air whoosh out of his lungs. When he reached his floor, the place looked deserted, all dim lights and closed doors. His footfalls echoed throughout the space with each soft step.

Slipping into his office, he sank into his chair and brought the desktop computer screen to life. Keeping track of photographers fell under Ashley’s job umbrella, but he could easily access those company files from his computer.

When Nadine had occupied Ashley’s office, she’d kept a tidy system of digital records. There was a file for every company GDL dealt with regularly, as well as subfiles for general contacts.

Javier didn’t expect Ashley would have discarded such an easy-to-use system. Creating a new one would have meant days of unnecessary trouble.

And sure enough, the digital framework remained intact, popping up in all its beautiful, organized glory.

Nadine, you’ve saved me again.

He clicked on the file labeled Photographers. Each subfolder included a profile complete with a headshot, résumé, overview, fee structure, and experience. Each photographer GDL had contracted with in the past seven years was documented.

Javier pulled a flash drive from his top desk drawer and plugged it in, downloading the photographer file in its entirety. To this he added a document from his own files, the GDL shoot schedule.

With those two pieces of information, he might actually be able to help his friends. It would be nice, for a change, to take part in their investigations. He’d been so useless on their last two cases.

The gang understood his job kept him from diving in the way the rest of them often did, and they never shamed him for having to limit his involvement with their newest endeavors. Yet what they didn’t understand was how much it pained him—and occasionally drove him batshit crazy—to stand on the sidelines.

“Not this time, folks.” Javier grinned as he dropped the drive into his pocket and headed for the door.

He’d take the information to Sami first thing in the morning.

24

As the early morning rush got underway, Sky and Delia flowed with the relentless current of foot traffic, wending their way from the subway station to Barrett Model Management.

After telling the group about her message from Mariela’s friend, who just so happened to be a model at Barrett, Sky had contacted Amber to arrange a meeting. She and Delia hoped to garner as much specific information as possible about what Amber saw transpire between Mariela and the photographer.

Delia had suggested meeting with the model at Barrett, where they could get the photographer’s personal info from Nadine herself. Two links to information that might prove crucial in tracking down their masked killer.

Preferably before he kills another innocent woman.

Exiting the elevator at the fourth floor, Delia pointed across the lobby of Barrett Model Management. “Over there.”

“Are you Sky?” A slender woman with sandy blond hair that flowed down her back was standing near the windows in the waiting area.

Sky recognized her from her social media profile. “Amber?”

Amber approached, a single line furrowed across her brow. “Yeah. It’s me. Mariela’s friend. Any chance you’ve got some great news for me that just happened to pop up overnight?”

Sky closed the gap between them, her chest aching for the woman. “I’m sorry. Nothing so far. But I was wondering if maybe you could describe the photographer she spoke with that day at the City Hall Park shoot. The one you thought was being flirty with her.”

Amber’s gaze flitted up toward the ceiling. “He never gave us his name. White male, middle aged, dark hair. Easy to forget, except,” Amber drew her pointer finger down her right cheek, “he had a scar.”

“Oh?” Sky wondered if that was one of the reasons he wore the mask. “Like a pirate, or was it just a little mark?”

Amber shrugged. “It looked old. You could really only see it up close.”

Her description was too generic. Who didn’t have an old scar of some kind? Unless it was truly pirate-worthy, a scar didn’t mean much. Sky sighed as Nadine entered the lobby. “Anything else you can remember?”

“Not sure if this is worth mentioning.” Amber leaned in closer to Sky. “He was some kind of neat freak or germophobe. Wouldn’t take off his gloves.”

“Leather gloves?” Sky’s heart picked up speed.

Amber shook her head. “No. Nothing flashy like that. Just, like, regular black gloves. It seemed a little weird. Photographers usually want to use their bare hands during a shoot. But maybe he was just cold.”

Sky exchanged a disappointed glance with Delia. Wearing a pair of gloves in the middle of a New York winter wasn’t exactly a smoking gun.

Nadine raised an eyebrow as she approached the trio in an exquisitely tailored navy pantsuit with white pinstripes. “What are you ladies whispering about out here?”

Amber immediately broke into a wide—and seemingly forced—smile. “I was just saying hi. On my way out now, though. Thanks for the check, Nadine.” She waved an envelope in the air and headed for the door, pausing to whisper in Sky’s ear. “Please let me know if you find Mariela.”

“Of course.” Sky gave the model’s arm a squeeze before she exited the agency.

“Okay.” Nadine’s stern-set lips sent a clear no-more-bullshit message. “Now you two tell me what’s actually going on.”

Delia stepped closer. “Do you have the photographer’s contact info for that shoot last week at City Hall Park?”

“What? That seems random.” Nadine slid her sharp gaze from Delia to Sky and back again. “Why are you asking?”

“Don’t freak out.” Delia spoke with a soft, calming tone, preparing Nadine for the incoming bombshell. “We think the photographer might be responsible for a missing person. And I’m really hoping we’re wrong about it.”

Nadine smoothed back a strand of chestnut hair that had escaped her bun, mouth gaping. “Is…is this related to the Mill? Does it have something to do with Kelsey?”

“We’re not jumping to any conclusions, but…” Delia glanced at Sky, who offered a nod of encouragement. “Amber’s friend went missing shortly after the shoot last week. And she said the photographer was flirting pretty hard with her.”

“Not again.” Nadine’s words floated out on a heavy breath as worry lines creased her brow.

“I know. We’ve felt the same way since we heard.” Delia took Nadine’s hand, giving a little squeeze of solidarity. “That’s why we’re following up.”

“Sure.” Gently pulling free of Delia’s grip, Nadine waved toward her office. “Give me a minute, and I’ll print out all the info I have on that shoot.”

Heels clacking on the tile floors, Nadine hurried down the hall to her office.

Sky nudged Delia’s arm. “Between Nadine and Amber, we at least have some new stuff to work with.”

Delia nodded, leaning into Sky for a moment. “I just can’t believe we’re back in this same place again. How many monsters can there possibly be in this world?”

A shiver ran down Sky’s spine. “I don’t think either of us wants the real answer to that question.” Sometimes it was better not to know.

And I can only imagine how astronomically high that number is.

Returning to the lobby, Nadine handed a small stack of papers to Delia. “There were a few different photographers at the City Hall Park shoot. I printed all the information I have on them. Tell me the moment you discover anything.”

“You’re the best.” Folding the pages in half, Delia stuffed them into her purse. “We’ll let you know as soon as we have something to share.”

“Thanks so much, Nadine.” Sky thrust her notebook back into her bag.

Nadine tsked, her cool demeanor faltering as she gave a shaky smile. “You both can thank me by being careful.”

Once they’d given their assurance—and reassurance—Sky and Delia made their way out of the building.

Delia patted her purse. “Let’s get back to Sami’s. I wanna go over everything, but I have to hurry. Got a show later today. It’s a big one. At least ten other models will be there. Kind of a Fashion Week practice round.”

“Need someone to go with you? You know, for protection…or anything really.” Sky headed for the door and held it open for Delia.

“Frankie will be there, so that makes me feel a little better. If nothing else, we can always use the buddy system to keep ourselves safe.” She gave a casual wave to Nadine in their wake as she stepped out onto the street. “I wouldn’t want to take you away from research. I know how important that is to you.”

“Right.” Sky tried to muster enthusiasm into her voice, but her thoughts kept spiraling back to yesterday. Try as she might, she could not get Javier out of her mind long enough to truly focus.

Delia blocked her path. “Okay. What’s going on with you?” She pinned Sky with a stare. “I can count on one hand how many times you’ve offered to duck out during a case to be my chaperone.”

With a shrug, Sky stepped around Delia and continued up the street, not bothering to see if her friend was following. “Can’t I just be truly concerned for your safety?”

“Nuh-uh. Spill it.”

Sky stopped short, and Delia almost collided with her. “You can’t say anything if I tell you. Promise?”

Delia gave a mock salute. “Of course.”

“I mean it.” Sky already regretted this conversation. “Not. A. Word. Especially not to Sami.”

“Whoa. This is big news, huh?” Delia drew her lips closed, miming a zipper across her smiling face. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Okay.” Sky took a deep breath, aware there was no backing out now. “I slept with Javier.”

Her admission stunned her friend into silence. It wasn’t lost on Sky that the whole gang had been low-key shipping her and Javier for months.

“This is good news, right?” Delia glanced at Sky, but thankfully kept her tone light. “Exciting?”

“I don’t know what it is.” Sky’s pace slowed as the subway station came into view. “And Javier will be at Sami’s this morning. He said he’d be bringing the info from GDL there.”

“So,” Delia’s empath abilities wound into motion so fast that Sky could almost hear the gears turning, “you’re just going to avoid him and hope whatever is between you just magically goes away?”

Sky gripped her bag strap. “Maybe with a little time, things will become clear. I’m just…waiting it out.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” Delia softened her somewhat harsh words with a sweet delivery. “You have feelings for him. Why not admit it?”

That stopped Sky in her tracks, and her heart pounded as she turned to face her friend. “What if I screw it all up and lose him?”

Delia’s lips curved into a small smile. “Um, hello? Ignoring him is going to do that. You need to sit down and have a real conversation with him. Be honest about how you feel.”

“I don’t even know how I feel. I’m confused.” With an exasperated sigh, Sky took the steps down to the subway platform two at a time.

“Yes, you do, and it scares you.” Delia kept pace with Sky all the way onto the train that was miraculously pulling into the station just as they arrived. “Admit that, at least.”

“All right.” Sky spun around. “I’m terrified of screwing things up with the sweetest, most amazing man I’ve ever met. Happy now?”

“Why?” Delia tilted her head, studying Sky like a science experiment.

“Why what?” Sky would have paid money to escape Delia’s scrutiny.

“Why are you so dead set on ruining things?”

Tears welled in the corners of Sky’s eyes. “Have you seen my life?”

“Yeah, I have. You have good friends, an awesome career, and publishing deals. You’re pretty hot stuff.” She swept her gaze over Sky from head to toe. “I’d want to lock you down if I was playing for the other team.”

It was a compliment, but a tear slid down Sky’s cheek nonetheless. “That’s not what I meant.” She swiped a hand across her face and sniffled. “Everyone I get close to either leaves or is…removed…from my life.”

Delia gave Sky’s shoulder a squeeze. “That’s not entirely true.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sky fired back. “Where are my parents? Locked away for what little remains of their lives. How about my best friend growing up? Died in my freaking arms. Jarrod? Shot dead. Megan…my cousin, my blood…murdered. Even Chloe, just my friend from college, killed right after inviting me to her opening show. Should I continue, or does it make sense now?”

“Listen.” Delia turned and faced Sky full-on. “Yes. All those people have been taken from you. That much is true, and it sucks. It’s not fair. But your list of losses comes nowhere near a complete inventory of the people in your life who love and adore you and are still right here with you.”

Fighting off the sob bubbling up in her chest, Sky stayed silent. Delia was right, of course. Sky was surrounded by people who cared about her. She was luckier than most, even if she’d experienced an abnormally high amount of grief in her life.

“I’m just so scared.” She managed the words, keeping her focus locked on the floor.

“Okay, so why not be friends with benefits, then? For now, at least.”

Delia’s cheerful suggestion caught the attention of some nearby eavesdroppers. Sky moved in closer to her friend and dropped her voice to a whisper.

“I tried to suggest that.” Sky raised her head and refocused as the train doors opened at their stop. “Javier looked like I slapped him across the face when I mentioned it.”

“Sami would probably have the same reaction,” Delia conceded as they pushed their way onto the platform. “Javier must be cut from the same cloth. What are the odds we both found good guys who don’t want to sleep around? It’s almost funny when you consider how many men would be over the moon and jump on the opportunity to have a no-strings-attached relationship.”

Sky managed a small grin. “Javier is an attached string in the flesh. No getting around that.”

Letting out a giggle, Delia headed for the subway stairs. “I think you both need to sit down and have a real conversation. Lay out your fears and expectations. If you’re completely honest with each other, I think you can work out something that will allow you both to explore this new…development…without mountains of pressure.”

“You’re probably right.” Even as she agreed, Sky wasn’t sure she’d follow through with the plan.

“The alternative is you and Javier acting like a divorcing couple around the rest of us, and I’m not doing the joint custody thing with you two if it comes to that.” Delia shook a finger Sky’s way. “I promise you Sami will feel the same. You two just have to figure it out.”

Shoulders sagging, Sky wished she could make herself small enough to disappear. “This is going to put pressure on the group that could be avoided entirely. All I have to do is avoid Javier. Entirely.”

“Stop it.” Delia reached out and grabbed Sky’s arm, giving her a little shake. “Uh-uh. I’m not listening to that kind of attitude, lady. You’re being a whiny baby. Sure, trying out a relationship is a gamble. And yes, that can be scary. But it’s time to put your big-girl panties on. Stop confusing stupidity for caution.”

Sky’s jaw dropped, but no words came out. Her friend had never spoken to her like this before.

Delia slammed her hands on her hips. “You’re my best friend. And that means I’m one of the few people in your life who should be there for you and tell you like it is. I won’t apologize for it.”

Her mouth still gaping, Sky imagined how a sit-down, no-holds-barred talk with Javier might go. Fear flushed through her veins before she released a sigh. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.” Continuing down the street, she mumbled, “I need a new best friend, though. You’re getting mean.”

“You’re stuck with me.” Delia fell in step with Sky. “Besides, no one else is going to put up with you like I will.”

“Hey!”

“You know I’m right.” She nudged Sky with an elbow. “And the same applies to me. No one else is going to put up with my drama like you. We were meant to be.”

Sky snorted, letting Delia have the win. For now. “Just promise that we hold off on the relationship drama for a bit? At least until after we get this info to Sami. Play it cool for me, please.”

“Of course. I promise.”

The mischievous gleam in Delia’s eyes said otherwise.

25

Javier swung open the front door of Hayat Investigations. “Honey, I’m home!”

Almost immediately, Sami burst out of his office, jogging down the hall with arms wide open. “Twice in one week.” He reached out and pulled Javier in close for a swift pat on the back. “I’m flattered you showed up again so soon.”

Javier rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. I’ve been so swamped at work. You know how it is.”

“Just giving you shit, man. Sky’s been keeping us updated on you.”

Javier sputtered and choked out a cough. “She has? What did she say?”

Sami raised an eyebrow. “Just how busy you are. Delia told me you guys had your own private movie night last week. I’ve got a feeling you might be promoted out of the friend zone in the near future.”

Oh, I think that promotion already took place. Just need a name for this new zone we’re in.

“Yeah. We’ll see.” Javier flushed with heat, pressing his mouth into a hard line. “We’ve got more important things to deal with right now. This is every photographer contact Nadine had at GDL as well as the GDL shoot schedule.” He pressed the flash drive into Sami’s chest.

“Whoa.” Sami held up a hand. “Change the subject much? You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I just want to do everything I can to help since I can actually contribute to this case.” Javier peered around Sami toward the door at the end of the hall. “Is Sky here yet?”

“Should be here soon. She and Delia were meeting with Nadine and some model named Amber who’s friends with⁠—”

“Mariela.” Javier wasn’t sure if he was more relieved or disappointed that Sky wasn’t in the building. “I heard.”

Sami thumbed toward the back office. “Callie’s here, though. She’s been helping me sift through missing persons data.”

“Where exactly did you get this missing persons data?” Javier broke into a smile, knowing damn well what tricks Sami had up his sleeve.

“A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

Javier started down the hall toward Sami’s office. “You’ve got some frightening skills there, brother. I’m sure glad you’re on our side.”

Callie sat on the couch, hunched over a laptop perched precariously on the coffee table in front of her. “That’s nine missing models so far in the last year. Both men and women. This guy sure gets around.”

Sami followed Javier through the door. “Assuming all nine belong to one sick bastard.”

Javier leaned over and gave Callie a one-armed hug. “I don’t even want to imagine there are more masked maniacs out there.”

She glanced up and did a double take, her eyes widening as they darted between the laptop’s screen and Javier’s face. “That one looks an awful lot like you, Javier. For a second there, I was wondering if you’d been moonlighting as a model.” Callie pointed to the headshot on her screen.

The man in the photograph had the same angular jaw and brown eyes, but the hair was all wrong.

Javier grimaced. “He looks nothing like me.”

“Could have fooled me.” Callie speared him with a disbelieving glare. “You sure you don’t have a twin around here?”

“Positive.” He continued to study the photo. “So over the course of a year or so, nine models have gone missing. No one thought this was odd?”

“This is New York. Nine models barely registers when more people than that go missing each day across the five boroughs.” Callie’s matter-of-fact reply was a sad truth. “I’m not surprised no one noticed the pattern. Besides, we don’t know how many of these victims were taken by the Mill before it was shut down.”

Javier ground his teeth together. “Supposedly shut down. For all we know, the remnants of the Mill morphed into some new depraved organization.”

“Either way, Callie’s got a point.” Sami took his seat behind his desk. “While the number of missing models is high enough to set off our alarm bells, it’s still just a drop in the bucket of what the police force deals with on a regular basis. That means these possible victims need us to pay extra-close attention, so we’d better get cracking.”

Javier rounded Sami’s desk and studied the screen while his buddy inserted the flash drive, pulling up the various folders—High Fashion, Runway, Outdoor, Seasonal, and Discontinued—of the GDL photographer file.

“Should we start with Discontinued?” Javier pointed at the icon. “If Nadine stopped using them, there had to be a reason, right?”

“These cases are still happening.” Callie shook her head. “If GDL stopped working with a photographer, that cuts off their access.”

“But not all the models were at GDL shoots, right?” Sami stroked his chin. “Okay. Then we should probably cross-reference the names of the missing models with GDL shows and shoots first. Once we know that, we can check the photographer’s listings.”

Javier glanced at the open doorway. “When Sky and Delia get here, they should be able to give us Amber’s description of the photographer who was paying Mariela special attention. That should help a lot.”

“Right.” Callie grabbed a pen and notepad and scribbled a note.

Javier took a seat next to Callie on the couch. “Anything from the NYPD?”

He couldn’t bring himself to mention Dante Houghton by name.

She shook her head. “We sent them the newest video. The one with Kelsey and Mariela. They’ve got their people scrutinizing it, but since that one didn’t feature the masked man, it’s not likely to help them narrow down any suspects.”

“Wait.” Javier pushed away thoughts of the detective. “Can we even be certain it was the same guy? Maybe there’s more than one person pulling this sick shit.”

“His voice came through loud and clear. It was him.” Sami clicked a few times with his computer mouse, and his speakers came to life with the sinister voice of the masked man. “Guess he wasn’t happy the girls skipped the torture part and went straight to killing each other.”

Javier swallowed the lump in his throat. If only they had gotten to this evidence sooner. “Our goal now is to make sure the second woman gets out alive.”

“Yeah.” Sami spoke with a hitch in his voice. “We can’t let another innocent person die.”

She’s not so innocent anymore.

Javier couldn’t stop the thought from flitting through his mind. Even if Mariela got out alive, she’d have to live with what she’d done for the rest of her life.

Shaking the dark thoughts from his mind, Javier pointed at the flash drive Sami had inserted. “Why don’t we just give the NYPD a copy of the photographer list? They might make quicker work of this than we can.”

Callie’s eyes narrowed as she tilted her head. “What is that, maybe three hundred individual photographer résumés?”

Javier did some quick math in his head. “Probably.”

“We can send them the copies, but they’re extremely busy.” Callie shook her head. “We should keep doing the legwork, regardless, to help narrow the list.”

Sami nodded, fingers clacking away at the computer. “I’ll send the copies. They have more people to dig through the data. But we can’t forget they also have an entire city to handle.”

He was right. The kind of needle they were looking for in this haystack needed careful, painstaking extraction. And more than that, Sky’s well-being was in danger every moment the killer walked free. She was being specifically targeted by this maniac. And, strong though she was, the threat of receiving another video on her phone at any moment had to be eating her alive.

“Let’s get to work.” Sami opened the files Javier had given him. “I’ll take the spring and summer schedules for this year. Javier, you take winter and fall.”

“You got it.” Javier cracked his knuckles, eager to dive in.

With another click of the mouse, the printer came to life and started spitting out pages filled with show and shoot information.

Sami fished around his pencil cup and pulled out a yellow highlighter. “Callie will give you the list of names and the dates they went missing. If you find a show that lines up with our list, highlight it.” He tossed the highlighter to Javier, who caught it in one hand.

“I’m on it, buddy.”

26

As Sky and Delia entered Hayat Investigations, the door chime announced their arrival.

“Back here!” Sami’s voice carried down the hallway.

“Let’s go catch our bad guy.” Delia nudged Sky’s arm before heading toward the office.

Sky forced herself to smile pleasantly as she followed.

“Got some more intel from Nadine’s about the City Hall Park shoot.” Delia strolled in, waving a stack of papers. “And Sky got a description of the photographer who flirted with Mariela.”

“Now there’s some good news.” Sami was out of his seat and crossing the room to meet his girlfriend before he finished the sentence. He pulled her into his arms and planted a tender kiss on her lips.

Sweet as the moment was, Sky had to turn away.

She chanced a glance at Javier, whose expression matched the aching in her heart. As they locked gazes, goose bumps spread out across her body.

How in the living hell are we supposed to act normal around each other now?

Callie held out a hand, grabbing the papers from Delia and spreading them out across the coffee table. “What do you have for us?”

Sky was never more thankful for a distraction. “Dossiers on every photographer who was present at the City Hall Park shoot.”

“Four names here.” Callie frowned, staring at the printouts.

“Right.” Sky reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook. “But add to that Amber’s description. Middle-aged white male, dark hair, scar down his cheek. And always wearing gloves. I bet that’s to cover the missing finger.”

“We’ll cross-reference the four photographers’ names with the files from GDL.” Sami spun a finger in the air. “Thanks to Nadine, and Javier for digging them up, these records practically read like social media profiles. Complete with the photographers’ profile pics. Give ’em to me, Agent Baros.”

Callie peered at the pile of pages printed out in front of her. “We’ve got…hold on here…Farrah Green. Never mind that. We’re looking for a man. Blake Dean. Arturo Silva. Derrick Gutierrez.”

Sky felt the heat of Javier’s gaze on her as she kept herself studiously turned away. A delicious shiver ran down her spine as she remembered how he’d looked at her while binding her hands together with his tie…

“I’ve been trying to figure out why he’s sending you videos of his escapades.”

Callie’s comment snapped Sky back to the present. “It’s got to be a cry for attention, right? I’m the crime blogger girl, after all.”

The pages from Nadine rustled as Callie scanned through them. “Yes, but when someone is doing activities as illegal as this, why risk the exposure?”

Sky twisted her fingers together. “Maybe he wants to get caught.”

“Ego. He doesn’t think he will be.” Sami glanced up from behind his computer screen. “I’ve had a heck of a time tracing him.”

“So that brings us back to the question of why. Why’s he doing it? He won’t get any real attention if he’s not caught. Does he hope you’ll publicize his crimes on your blog?” Javier’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He let out a low groan as he stared down at the screen.

“What’s up?” Sky craned her neck, trying to get a peek at whatever had set him off.

Javier met her eyes, his expression showing genuine distress. “Ashley is on the warpath. She apparently has alerts set up on all her files that notified her when I dug into the photographer contacts. Now she’s making a stink about not being given any notice and telling me it’s a breach in the chain of command. She’s threatening to go to Arthur.”

“Does it even matter?” Sky wrinkled her nose at the mere mention of Ashley. “You have seniority. Will Arthur really care?”

“Probably not.” Javier stood, shoving his phone into his jacket pocket. “I had legitimate reason to step on her turf. And I’m the chief operating officer. Maybe it’s not my job to be in direct contact with the photographers, but it still falls within the realm of my responsibilities to approve of people working for or with GDL.”

Sky stiffened as she realized Javier was considering leaving. She’d been so nervous about being stuck in a tight space with him, but now she didn’t want him to go. “So her threat of going to Arthur has no teeth. You’re fine.”

“Technically.” Javier rubbed his temples in vigorous circles. “But I don’t need her stirring up trouble. Arthur wasn’t too happy to get pulled in for the last meeting. As much as he seems to like Ashley, he dislikes anyone who interrupts business.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “That displeasure could extend to me if I create too much of a disruption. Arthur warned me to step up and act like I belonged in the role I was lucky to have in the company.”

Callie waved a hand at the doorway. “Go. Take care of the situation. We don’t need you getting in trouble for helping us.”

“But we still have work to do here.” Javier glanced from Callie to Sami and back again. Sky knew how not being able to help weighed heavily on his psyche.

“You’ve done plenty.” Delia patted his shoulder. “But if you go and get yourself in trouble, you won’t be much assistance to us in the future. You’re our lifeline to the industry.” She moved to the table and began gathering up her things. “Besides, I have to duck out too. I’ve got that big multi-designer fashion show today.”

“That’s right. I’d almost forgotten the show. GDL is part of it.” Javier swiped a hand across his forehead. “Ashley’s had her poor assistant working late into the evenings to get everything set up. She’s probably in a real peach of a mood right now, trying to figure out what’s going on with her own duties that she dumped on Lupita. This will be a great talk.”

“You want backup?” Sky spit the question out with zero hesitation, despite her heart skipping a beat as the words filled the air.

Across the room, Delia’s eyes widened. Apparently, her friend hadn’t expected Sky to take her advice.

You’re the one who told me to talk to him. Although I’m not sure either of us is ready to have a conversation yet.

Javier’s mouth hung partially open, but nothing came out.

Sky held her hands out. “If you don’t want me to go with you, that’s fine.”

That got him speaking again.

“Yes. Sure. You can be my bodyguard.” He half coughed, half laughed. “You can take Ashley, right?”

“Ha.” Sky envisioned the venomous woman. “I can try.”

“Just keep your phones on you.” Sami jabbed his finger at them, breaking up the horribly awkward moment. “I’ll tell you the second we figure out the guy.”

“Right.” Javier gave a dutiful nod. “Of course.”

Before she could change her mind, Sky grabbed her coat. “I’m ready if you are.”

Sky didn’t know what had made her speak up and offer to go with Javier. She could’ve just stayed behind with the rest of the group. But when Javier had announced he had to leave, she suddenly couldn’t bear to see him go.

And that feeling scared the hell out of her.

Still, she followed him out the door and onto the sidewalk. Her emotions were a jumble inside her, but she knew that they had to get on the same page, and fast. If they didn’t, their friendship would crumble.

The thought of that happening cracked Sky’s heart.

Javier led the way down the street, heading for his black SUV with a glance at Sky. “I can handle her, you know. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.”

Foot traffic on the sidewalks was heavier now that lunchtime was approaching, slowing their walk. Sky sank into the warmth of Javier’s vehicle as she climbed into the passenger seat. It was such a luxury to drive in the city, rather than taking the subway.

She buckled herself in and twisted to face Javier. “And you don’t have to be the big tough guy. I know she’s been giving you hell.”

Javier shot her a perplexed look. “I’m not trying to be anything.”

“Could have fooled me. You’ve hardly said anything since I got to Sami’s.”

He sighed. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know.” Sky winced as she realized the conversation was on the edge of turning negative. “Look, we’re being snippy with each other for absolutely no reason. This isn’t what I wanted. It’s what I was afraid would happen.”

He swallowed. “And what exactly do you want?”

Sky crossed her arms, hugging herself. “Maybe for you…for us…to pump the brakes a little.” Her heart raced as adrenaline surged through her veins.

“Fine. Whatever you want.” Javier fired up the engine. “I have to get back to the office.”

Frustration zinged through her veins. “Shut me down, and this conversation is over.”

Javier’s hands froze on the wheel. “Why?”

The wounded undertone of his voice spoke volumes.

That she got. Having been through enough pain for many lifetimes, Sky understood the weight of that single word.

Why?

A fresh wave of empathy washed across her heart. Javier was hurting…because of her. The whole time, she’d only been considering her feelings. Selfish of her, really, but not without reason. And that was what she had to get him to understand.

She chewed her lip. “Because we’re not speaking the same language right now, and it’s killing us.”

Javier tilted his head, eyes glued to the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the curb. It was enough of a sign that he was listening for her to meet him halfway.

Sky placed a hand on his arm. “You’re taking my screwed-up issues with relationships as some kind of personal critique on you. But the truth is, I’m so lost in all the trauma of my own life, I don’t know how to let someone in. Especially someone I so deeply care for.”

Javier’s shoulders sagged as the tension in his posture relaxed.

“I’m scared.” Sky squeezed his arm, trying to not notice how firm the muscles of his biceps were. “Not that I’m afraid you’ll hurt me. But I feel like the moment I’m happy, I’ll either screw it up or lose you like everyone else in my life. And I know it sounds like a cop-out for me to ask for us to take things super slow, but that’s the only pace I can go without having a full-on mental breakdown.”

Javier was quiet for a moment, then blew out a breath. “You don’t have to be scared with me.”

She dropped her hand away. He didn’t seem to fully grasp what she was trying to say.

“That might be true from your perspective. I have no doubts about you. You’re everything a woman could want. And trust me, I want you.” She gave him a small smile when he finally peeked at her. “There’s no rational reason I can give you for why I need time and patience. But that is what I need.”

“Okay.” Javier flexed his fingers on the wheel. “You’ve been through a lot, and I get that. We’ll go at Sky speed. I won’t force anything on you that you aren’t ready for.”

His tone suggested defeat, but his words implied he was agreeing to her demands. He drove into the GDL garage and carefully parked.

Sky reached out and wrapped her arm around his waist, stretching her body across the console. “That’s all I ask. I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t want you to either. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “You mean too much to me.”

“Okay, so that’s settled, at least. We keep each other.” She pulled back and locked stares with him. “Can we just slow down and take whatever’s happening between us one day at a time?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. Not quite committing to a full smile, but it was sign enough that Javier was on the same page. “Of course.” He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered. “You’ll still have to pay for being so difficult.”

His warm breath ghosted through Sky’s hair, bringing back memories of their previous afternoon together. A shiver of excitement rushed through her body.

It was too bad they didn’t have time to stop at her apartment before going upstairs to GDL.

27

The office at Guillermo De Luca was buzzing with energy when they arrived. Assistants scuttled around, wheeling clothing racks around the lobby as a dark-haired woman with a clipboard shouted orders.

“She’s like a drill sergeant. I like her.” Sky pointed toward the woman as Javier guided them toward the elevator. “She’s giving massive Nadine vibes.”

Javier nodded as they passed by. “That’s Ashley’s assistant, Lupita.”

“Does that mean I shouldn’t like her? She seems pretty capable. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed Ashley commanding that kind of authority. At least, not in the few times I’ve seen her at work.”

“Strangely enough, I’m surprised to see it from Lupita. She’s been pretty quiet the handful of times I’ve dealt with her.”

Sky nudged his shoulder. “That’s because you’re the boss, silly.”

One thing was clear—Javier had no clue how intimidating he could be to others. Smart, successful, and almost always dressed in a suit that cost as much as Sky’s monthly rent, he was the real deal, even if he didn’t always seem to know it.

He had the look and upbringing that set him apart from regular people like Sky, and if she hadn’t had the chance to get close to him, she would never have met the sweet and down-to-earth man underneath.

“Is Ashley still here, or has she already gone to the venue?” Javier directed his question at Lupita.

Her voice faltered mid-shout as she turned to see Javier.

“Yes, sir. She’s still here.” After an audible gulp followed by a deep breath, Lupita’s expression blanked. “She asked me to tell her the moment you arrived.”

“Thank you. I’m heading up there now. No need for you to stop what you’re doing.”

He glanced at Sky as they headed toward the elevator. “See what I mean?”

“Yeah.” She looked back over her shoulder at Lupita. “She looked like a deer in the headlights when she realized who she was speaking to.”

There was more to the shift in Lupita’s expression than simple intimidation. From what Sky had seen, Lupita was doing a damn good job of organizing the chaos. She couldn’t be that afraid of Javier. There had to be something else.

Maybe it was Ashley. It wouldn’t surprise Sky to learn that bitch might be sabotaging Javier’s image. Maybe she was retaliating against him for getting her called into Arthur’s office.

They rode the elevator up to the executive floor. And to no one’s surprise, Ashley stood waiting, stiletto heels tapping as the doors parted.

“Took you long enough.” Ashley flipped her bright-red hair over her shoulder as Sky processed the alteration in the woman’s appearance. “I have to be at the venue in an hour. I’ve spent the whole morning tracking down a damn photographer who can be there on short notice. Meanwhile, you’re just nosing around where you don’t belong.”

“Those are the company’s files, not yours. And I have no obligation to inform you before I conduct an audit of the photographers GDL contracts with.” Javier’s eyes narrowed. “Shouldn’t your backup be booked well in advance of a show like this?”

Ashley planted her hand on her hip in obvious offense at the insinuation that she was somehow to blame. “I know my job, contrary to what you’ve been telling Arthur. However, as good as I am, I cannot prevent people from falling ill.”

“If you were on the ball like you claim, you would have had backups already on standby. Calling in sick is a contingency you should always plan for.” Javier tucked his hands into his pockets. “Replacement photographers cost the company twice as much.”

Ashley’s ruby-red lips curled into a smile that was closer to a threatening sneer. “You want to do my job, Javier?”

“I’ve done your job before, and I can do it again. And it’s Mr. Bainbridge to you.” Javier’s nostrils flared. “Show a little respect. I’m your boss, and I worked my way up the chain.”

She rolled her eyes and mimed something vaguely sexual with her hands. “Oh, I’m sure you did.”

Sky bit back a gasp at Ashley’s audacity. She flicked her gaze between Ashley and Javier, as though she were watching a fierce tennis match.

Shaking his head, Javier pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ashley, we’ve talked about inappropriate behavior in the workplace already.”

“Nothing I do is ever good enough around here, is it? Meanwhile, you get to take afternoons off to go screw your girlfriend.” She stormed off, heels clicking with each step as she stomped down the hall.

Sky’s stomach flipped over. How had Ashley pegged them so well?

Javier held up a finger to Sky. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.” He followed Ashley down the hallway, disappearing into an office behind her.

If Javier thought Sky was going to miss an opportunity to watch him put Ashley in her place, he was mistaken. She followed in their wake, stopping just shy of the open door.

“This is the final straw, Ashley.” Javier’s voice boomed into the hallway. “Your behavior is unprofessional and completely uncalled for. Pack up your desk. I’ll have Lupita finish the shoot today. She seems more than capable.”

“What?” Ashley squeaked. Her bravado from a moment ago seemed to have disappeared.

“We’ve discussed this. It’s clear you can’t handle the responsibilities of your position. I will notify HR to cut your final check.”

“You can’t do this to me.” Her voice rose. “I’ve given everything to this company.”

“This decision is final. Pack up your desk.”

“You want me to pack up my desk?” Ashley’s voice turned dangerously dark.

Oh, no. That wasn’t a question. It was a dare.

Fearing what Ashley might do, Sky stepped into the doorway just as Ashley’s arm swept across the desk, sending everything clattering to the floor.

“Anything else need packing?” Ashley stormed over to the bookshelf. “How about these?” One by one, she pulled books, binders, and frames from the shelf, tossing them over her head.

“Don’t make this worse than it already is.” Despite Ashley’s over-the-top rage, Javier kept his tone calm and even.

“How could it get worse?” Ashley turned her angry sneer toward Javier, but her eyes locked on Sky standing in the doorway. “Why don’t you just give the job to her?” She punctuated the question with a well-aimed throw, sending one of the thinner binders sailing across the office. It landed just shy of where Sky stood. “At least then you won’t have to go all the way up to midtown for your nooners.”

Taking a step backward before something actually did hit her, Sky moved fully into the hallway again. To her left and right, office doors opened, and various employees poked their heads out. “Someone call security, please. Ms. Duncan has clearly lost her mind.”

“We’re done here.” Javier crossed the office, heading toward Sky. “Accounting will assess the damage and deduct it from your final paycheck.”

Ashley let out a feral screech and hurled another binder toward the door.

Javier had luckily moved out of range before it landed. His anger was palpable. “Close and lock your office doors.” He barked the order to the lookie-loos gawking in the hallway. “No one engages with Ms. Duncan. Understood?”

“I’ve called security.” The speaker was a woman at the reception desk at the end of the hall. She was Javier’s assistant, if Sky remembered correctly.

“Thank you, Mara. Please let Lupita Franco know we need her to fill in while we search for a replacement for Ms. Duncan.”

At the end of the hallway, the elevator dinged. Two men wearing security badges stepped out and headed toward Javier.

“She’s all yours.” Javier pointed behind him. “Ms. Duncan is to be removed and is not to be allowed to return to the building.”

Behind him, Ashley continued raging. With Javier blocking the doorway, Sky couldn’t get a clear view of the drama, but it sounded as if Ashley had knocked the whole bookcase over.

The two security guards glanced at each other before nodding.

Javier stepped out of the doorway and took Sky’s hand. “My office. C’mon.” He led her down the hall to a closed door at the end.

“That was quite a scene.” Sky wondered why Ashley had flown off the handle like that. Yes, she’d lost her job, but she still had her career to consider.

One thing was certain. She’d never work in fashion again. Not after word of her behavior got out. And with all those people gawking and listening to the commotion, gossip would follow.

Once they were inside his office, Javier shut and locked the door. He let out a ragged breath and ran his hand through his hair. “Give me a minute. I need to notify HR and Arthur. This was the last thing I needed to happen today.”

“Definitely wasn’t on the agenda.” Sky dropped into the chair in front of Javier’s desk. “Wonder if Sami and Callie have figured out the⁠—”

The ding of her phone cut her off. Sky dug into her cross-body bag and retrieved the device.

Holy shit.

“What?” Javier paused behind his desk. “Who is it?”

“It’s Sami.” She reread the text message before looking up at Javier. “They cross-referenced the suspects down to one. Arturo Silva. Sami called Nadine, and she confirmed that Silva is working the show today. They’ve already left a message with Dante.” Her hands shook, and she nearly dropped her phone. “They’re trying to get ahold of Delia to warn her now.”

“We should go to the show. Delia needs backup.” Javier’s fingers danced across the keyboard. “I need to go, anyway, since I sort of threw Lupita to the wolves. Someone has to help her manage the shoot.”

Lupita seemed pretty capable from what Sky could tell, but she one-hundred-percent agreed they couldn’t leave Delia alone at the fashion show. They’d found their criminal. They knew where he would be.

All they had to do now was catch him.

28

As soon as Delia arrived at the venue, Fyndley Spire, she texted Frankie to tell her she was there. At some point, Delia would have to tell the model that her roommate wouldn’t be coming back, but at that moment, she was more concerned with making sure Frankie was safe.

The tall, cylindrical masterpiece of a building was swarming with people grouped together on the marble floors of the lobby and the showroom, now featuring a temporary runway. Photographers swarmed both sides, but with everyone so tightly packed, Delia couldn’t get a good look at any of them.

Intending to make a quick lap around the room before heading backstage to get ready, Delia searched for a path to cut through the crowd.

Not more than a step into her journey, fingers wrapped around her wrist. The sudden shock of those foreign digits had all of Delia’s instincts kicking in. Fist balled, she twisted around and sent her arm flying.

Focus came a second too late. She tried to stop the forward momentum but couldn’t prevent the hit.

As her knuckles met with Frankie’s shoulder, Delia pulled her arm free of the model’s grip. “Oh, my god. I am so sorry.”

“What the hell? That had better not bruise.” Frankie’s tone was shrill enough to catch the attention of the nearby crowd of photographers. Her hand flew up to her shoulder, covering it as if she expected Delia to strike her again.

“I didn’t mean to. You startled me.” She reached out to Frankie, hoping to reassure her that she meant no harm. “Maybe we can get you some ice.”

Frankie knocked Delia’s arm away and pushed her way through the crowd, leaving Delia standing alone as the surrounding photographers studied her with expressions of curiosity and annoyance.

Delia was no stranger to the spotlight, but she’d never felt as awkward as she did now.

This was not turning out to be her day.

Just quietly disappear into this horde of people and stop drawing attention to yourself, you idiot.

As she weaved around one person who refused to make room for her to pass, Delia butted up against another.

“Whoa. Hey now. This camera cost more than you make in a year.” The arrogant man’s voice was a shout over the din.

She turned to face him and make her apologies but caught sight of his gloved hands.

Delia’s breath stuck in her chest. She tried to follow through with the apology she’d planned, but the words died in her throat.

This could be the monster they were looking for.

Gaze darting around the room, Delia searched the hands of every photographer nearby.

None of them were wearing gloves of any kind.

Her gaze settled on the arrogant photographer.

This had to be him.

“What the hell are you staring at?” he barked at her, earning more attention from the others in the room.

Delia was quickly gaining a reputation for being a problem at this show. She needed to think fast.

He’s a man. One who clearly likes to feel powerful.

A light bulb went off.

“I’m just so…so…I mean, wow.” She batted her eyelashes like a starstruck teenager. “I knew they were bringing on top-quality photographers to do this show, but I never expected you’d be here. I’m so sorry I bumped into you. I would never want to do anything to harm your…equipment.”

She kept the smile plastered across her face as she reached out and stroked his chest, finishing with a giggle.

He arched his dark, bushy eyebrows, running a hand over his slicked-back black hair. “You know my work?”

Remembering her improv classes from way back when, Delia committed to agreeing with whatever he said until she could find her way out of there. She could do this. After all, she’d almost been in two Broadway productions.

“Oh. Well, I’m a model, so I make it a point to know everyone I work with. But between you and me, I’ve always wanted to be behind the camera. I can follow directions, but it’s you who captures the moment. It’s magic.”

The start of a smile lifted his cheeks. The ambient light in the room slanted across his face, hitting it just right. Moments before, he’d appeared flawless, but now Delia spotted the gentle recess of a scar across the right side of his face.

“Still images are an art form. That is so true. It’s rare that I meet a model so interested in what goes on from the other end of the camera.” He caressed the elongated DSLR lens of his camera. “Capturing the perfect moment. The essence of the subject. A moment in time that will live beyond our limited years on this planet.”

Pressing a hand to her chest, Delia conjured an image of an adorable puppy with a shiny red bow. Using that sweet picture, she fawned, hoping she could nail the awe in her voice and sell it as genuine admiration. “That’s exactly how I feel about it. You can snap hundreds of pictures but will never capture that perfect one if you don’t take the time to make sure the shot is properly framed and lit.”

That must have been the right thing to say.

The photographer’s smile widened, lips parting to reveal straight white teeth behind them. “I could teach you some…techniques. If you’re truly interested.”

On the surface, there was nothing inherently evil in his appearance or demeanor. He was arrogant, maybe, but many photographers were. It was part of the job, especially when dealing with models all day. Delia knew how much of a diva some of her peers could be, especially the newer ones.

If she hadn’t been warned by the gang before arriving at this show, Delia would have never realized she might be staring at the face of a sadistic killer.

“Oh, really?” She patted the side of his arm while scanning the crowd for her exit. “That’s so kind of you. But I couldn’t steal your time away from work. I’m really not that good.”

He cleared his throat, drawing her gaze back to his face. “Am I boring you?”

“No. Of course not.” She focused on him again, biting her lower lip. “I was just checking to see if anyone was looking for me. We’re all supposed to be backstage getting ready. Could you imagine the gossip if any of the others saw me chatting with you?”

He reached for her, hooking a gloved finger under her chin and lifting it up. “Let them talk.”

His face might not have sent up red flags, but the coldness of his touch, even through the layers of leather covering his fingers, chilled the blood in her veins.

She shivered, remembering that these were the hands that had done such unspeakable things to Kelsey. “I have to get back there. But…” The words died in her throat.

Lie or not, Delia was disgusted by his presence and wanted nothing more than to get away from him. He was the reason Kelsey was dead.

As well as who knows how many others.

They’d only come up with nine missing models so far, but there was no telling how long this man had been at it.

“But what?” He took a step closer, taking a deep inhalation of the air around her.

“Maybe we can talk after the show.” Backing away slowly, Delia struggled against the quiver of her lips to keep that plastic smile steady on her face.

Without another word, she turned and bolted through the crowd, eager to put as much distance between herself and the photographer as possible. She no longer cared if her antics earned her the side-eye from others. She had to get backstage and call Sami.

Backstage wasn’t any less crowded. Behind the curtain separating the mock runway were stations for hair, makeup, and wardrobe. Nearly every one of them was occupied.

Delia beelined for her purse, stashed alongside several other models’ belongings, and yanked out her phone.

He answered after half a ring. Delia didn’t even bother with a greeting. “He’s here. I saw him.”

“Are you okay?”

She cupped a hand around her mouth and the phone’s speaker to help hide her whispering voice. “I’m fine.”

“Get out of there.” Sami’s tone sharpened. “Now. I don’t want you in danger.”

Delia peeked over her shoulder toward the curtains fluttering as people passed between the stage and dressing areas. She half expected to see the killer stalking through, but after a moment of fear, she pushed away the irrational thought.

The masked man—Arturo Silva—might’ve been arrogant and power hungry, but he also might have successfully made nine models disappear in the last year. That meant he was dangerous and smart.

“He won’t do anything during the show. There are too many people here. And I can’t leave now. This is my job.” If she walked out, it could cost her gigs in the future. No one hired models known for ditching. “But there’s plenty of time for you to get here. And…I’ve spoken with him. He’s in an aqua button-down and, of course, has gloves on. We have a little rapport going on. I might be able to get him to take me to wherever he’s been keeping his victims.”

“Delia. No.” Sami attempted to be firm, but she heard the fear in his words. “Callie and I are leaving right now. Javier and Sky are on the way over. We’ll figure something out, but we’re not using you as bait.”

“We need to catch him with his hand in the cookie jar, don’t we? I’m the best shot we’ve got.” The tiny hairs on the back of Delia’s neck prickled. “I can’t talk. This place is packed with people who might be listening, and right now, I don’t trust a single one of them.”

“Okay, babe.” Sami’s intermittent breaths told her he was jogging. “We’re on the way. Put our names on the list so we don’t get hassled when we get there. And do not use yourself as bait until we discuss this further. Please.”

“You got it.” Delia disconnected the call and pocketed her phone. Eyes still drawn to the flapping of the curtains, she backed up.

“Watch out,” a woman called out as Delia’s heel came down on her foot.

With a quick sidestep, Delia whipped around, fist balled in defense.

The woman she’d squashed held up a clipboard, shielding her face. “Are you Delia Shaw?”

“Sorry. So sorry. I’m…yes. That’s me.” Delia held her hands out in surrender. “You spooked me. I didn’t realize you were right behind.” Heat seared her cheeks.

How long had the woman been standing there? Had she heard Delia’s conversation?

And how many people am I going to punch before I up those therapy sessions?

“I’m Lupita Franco. From GDL.” She lowered her clipboard and held out a hand to shake. “I was Ashley’s assistant, but now…I guess…I’m in charge.”

Heart still racing from shock, Delia’s hand trembled as she reached to meet Lupita’s handshake. “Right. Sorry.” She processed what the woman had said. “Ashley’s not coming today?”

“Not from what I’ve been told. But I’m here if you need anything.” Lupita’s long dark hair cascaded around her shoulders in natural waves. Her dark-brown eyes shined with intelligence and warmth. The sharp black blazer and matching pencil skirt conveyed a business-savvy attitude while still accentuating her trim yet curvy figure.

Delia nodded, wanting more details on the Ashley situation but knowing she could get them later from Javier. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Anyway, I didn’t mean to startle you. It sounded like you were having a rough conversation. Boyfriend troubles? Do you want me to arrange transportation for after the show?”

Shit. She was listening.

But from the way the woman spoke, she had clearly misinterpreted it. Maybe Delia could use that to her advantage.

“Actually, no. My boyfriend’s coming. Could you please add Sami Hayat and Calysta Baros to the list? I want them to be able to get to me without any problems.”

“Sure.” Lupita picked a pen from her blazer’s inner pocket and scribbled a note onto the page she had tucked into the top of her clipboard. “And while I go take care of that, I need you at station three for makeup. Your rack has been delivered, and each outfit is numbered in the order you’ll be wearing them.”

“Thank you.”

With a wave of her hand, Lupita led the way toward an empty vanity station. “You’re welcome. With the delays this show has had, you girls are probably going to be here all night. No one should have to walk home alone that late.”

Delia raised an eyebrow. That was a first. Normally, she dealt with Ashley when working GDL shows, and that woman couldn’t care less what happened after the runway lights flickered off. Delia would have to tell Javier just how nice Lupita had been to her. The fashion world could use a few more caring people like her.

But first, she had to get through this show and keep an eye on that photographer.

29

I watched the ebony-haired beauty walk away, kicking myself for not getting her name.

She was perfect. Athletic and toned. Clearly someone who spent time on her body.

Finally, a real woman. Someone with substance. Maybe not on the inside. Her insipid fawning was a little too much for my taste. Not unheard of, though. Models had a shelf life in this industry, and if my calculations were correct, that one was nearing her expiration date.

No wonder she was interested in photography. Those who could no longer do had to find other ways to make a living.

I’ll give her plenty to do, right up to the end.

I smiled to myself, barely registering the buzz of my phone in my pants pocket at first. Whipping the device out, I wondered if the boss was calling to congratulate me on my most recent fight-to-the-death video.

All it took was one glance, and my interest turned to disgust.

Of course it’s her. Fucking Ashley. The bane of my existence.

I ducked away from the crowd, finding a quiet corner to take the call and keeping my voice low. “What the hell do you want? I’m busy with work.”

Her haughty snort told me she couldn’t give a shit. “It’s time for you to focus on a much more important job than snapping your shitty pictures. The bitchy little tell-all writer we discussed at the warehouse should be arriving any moment now with GDL’s chief operations officer, and you’re going to fucking take her.”

I couldn’t deny the rush of excitement swelling below my belt, but Ashley clearly wasn’t thinking this through. “Sure. I’ll just nab her in the middle of a crowd of witnesses. I bet she’ll come willingly. Are you out of your mind? This isn’t the time or place.”

“That dickhead fucking fired me.” Ashley screeched like a horror movie banshee. I held the phone away from my ear. “Javier Bainbridge sent me packing right in front of his bitch of a girlfriend. We make our move tonight. Get her and bring her to the warehouse. Tonight, she suffers. And then she goes to the boss to be his personal bitch, like he’s wanted this whole time. She’ll wish she was dead.”

Somewhere, Ashley’s wires must have gotten crossed. If she thought we were in some kind of partnership, she was sorely mistaken. “It’s too risky. These types of grabs take planning. I’m not your personal revenge lapdog. I don’t take orders.”

As much as I wanted to bend, batter, and break Sky Stryker, I would only do it for my own gratification. My own vengeance. And I would carry out that gloriously satisfying venture on my own time.

“The boss made me your supervisor, so like it or not, you’re my fucking lapdog.” Ashley’s voice had lowered into a seething hiss. “I’m sure you don’t want me letting him know that you turned down this opportunity to finally give him what he wants.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Ashley cackled out a laugh like the she-devil she was. “Of course I would. But really, forcing your hand tonight is doing you a favor. I know you’re dying to get your creepy nine-fingered grip on that freckly bitch’s neck. Imagine breaking in that feisty, rebellious little troll.” Her voice dropped to a purr. “Or I can just tell the boss how you let the perfect plaything slip through your fingers and see what he makes of that.”

The woman had me by the balls, and she knew it. Ashley would raise all sorts of hell if I didn’t go along with her spur-of-the-moment command. And there was no denying how rock-hard the very idea of punishing Sky Stryker had made me.

Despite how much I wanted to beat Ashley’s smug face in with a chunk of concrete, she was right. By making me go after Sky tonight, she was also presenting me with an opportunity for unbelievable satisfaction.

Who am I to look a gift hag in the mouth?

As if on cue, Sky Stryker entered the room, gracefully hanging on the arm of Javier Bainbridge. His well-manicured appearance, perfectly styled coif of dark hair, and elegantly tailored suit screamed money, but she was his best accessory.

With long auburn hair and a figure worthy of sculpting, she had the natural beauty of a model. The plunging neckline of her sapphire evening gown only served to enhance the goddess-like radiance of her creamy ivory skin.

It took everything I had to restrain myself from going over there and dragging her out of the building by her hair.

I couldn’t care less that Javier had fired Ashley. The idea was actually entertaining. That bitch needed to be put in her place, and I didn’t fault any man for having done so.

No, Ashley’s problems didn’t make a bit of difference to me. But going along with her plan now seemed like a no-brainer.

“Logistics will be a problem.” I kept my voice hushed as I lifted my camera and viewed the couple through the lens.

Sky appeared fit and trim as ever. Her profile highlighted the balance of her breasts and hips. Definitely someone who could endure a beating without withering away.

Actual models were often too underfed to stand my intensity.

That one, however, might hold up.

“You’ll figure it out.” Ashley offered no suggestions, but I would have resented her for them anyway. “I’ll be at the warehouse tonight. You’d better show up with Sky Stryker. And don’t you dare think you’re the only one who’ll be taking a turn on her.” She hung up.

My delusional supervisor had managed to piss me off one more time before vanishing.

I’ll be damned if I share Sky with the likes of her.

But I’d deal with that issue later. First things first.

I still had a job to do, and the house lights were dimming. Time to get in position.

Later, I’d pick the perfect position for Sky.

30

On the surface, Fyndley Spire appeared to be holding a run-of-the-mill fashion show. Nothing more, nothing less. Celebrities and influential people mingled and gossiped among themselves while photographers positioned around the brightly lit stage.

The models would be strutting down the runway in all sorts of fantastical outfits, and the fast-paced flashes and clicks of cameras would fire off until the whole room glittered like the Fourth of July.

This particular show, however, was far from ordinary. Somewhere among the crowd, a killer was busy blending in.

Sky held onto Javier’s arm as they walked the perimeter of the room.

Gloves. Look for a guy wearing gloves.

A simple task, but with so many people clamoring to be right at the stage, it was hard for Sky to get a clear view of anyone’s hands.

“You think we should head backstage?” She had to shout over the backdrop of electronic music. “Sami and Callie might not be here yet, but we can at least touch base with Delia.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Javier tugged her forward. “I need to find Lupita anyway.”

Backstage was just as chaotic. Models sprinted from their makeup stations to line up at sets of stairs on either end of the stage. One by one, they disappeared between the folds of the white curtains that separated the front and back of the house as the show began.

Sky slashed a finger toward the stairs on the rightmost side. “There’s Delia.”

She was stunning. Like a Greek goddess reborn…if Olympians wore crop tops for togas. The gold trim and white gauzy fabric brilliantly highlighted her fair skin. Sky wanted to run over and tell her as much, but the moment she spotted her friend, Delia disappeared.

Javier tugged Sky’s arm again, and as she started to follow, Lupita came into view.

“Mr. Bainbridge. Glad you’re here.” Clipboard in hand, Lupita cast a worried glance down at the page. “We’re a little behind schedule.”

“You’re fine. I expected this to be a late-running show. I wanted to check in and make sure everything’s going okay and to thank you for handling Ashley’s duties until I can find a replacement.”

“I think everything is going well. You can count on me, sir.” She nodded, but her dark-brown eyes darted toward Sky.

Javier seemed to pick up on that. He tilted his head slightly and glanced sideways at Sky, then back to Lupita. “She’s my guest today. A friend of Ms. Shaw.”

What an odd way to introduce her. Sky understood he couldn’t exactly call her his girlfriend, especially after their little talk, but wasn’t she at least his friend?

Smiling brightly, Sky stuck her hand out. “Pleased to meet you. Sky Stryker.”

Lupita grasped Sky’s hand and gave it a light shake. “The pleasure is all mine. Lupita Franco.”

Polite and on top of her shit. She’s a giant leap up from Ashley.

“Anything else I can do, sir?” Lupita asked.

“Just keep all the models safe and on time. That’s all I ask.”

“Will do.” Lupita stopped short and held a hand to her ear. “I’m sorry, sir. There seems to be a guest situation out front.”

“This isn’t an open show.” Javier’s expression darkened.

“No, sir. Ms. Shaw asked for Sami Hayat and,” she glanced at her paper, “Calysta Baros to be allowed entrance.” There was a crash and a yelp from a station nearby. Lupita looked in its direction and back at Javier. “Would you mind terribly handling them while I take care of whatever that was?”

“Absolutely. You stay here. They’re friends of mine.” He gave her a tight smile. “You’re doing a great job.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Javier tugged again at Sky’s arm. When they were far enough out of range, he lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “Time to put our heads together and catch this bastard.”

As they made their way to the venue lobby, Sky spotted Sami and Callie. Two security officers were chatting with Sami while Callie’s attention appeared to be turned outward.

Impossible to take the agent out of her.

Dressed in a sleek burgundy pantsuit with her silver hair styled to the side in soft curls, Callie slowly rotated, her gaze darting all over the room. No doubt she was taking stock of the people, entrances, and security systems. She was such an asset to the whole team.

Approaching the two security guards, Javier held up his ID. “They’re with me.”

The shorter guard, a bald man with a handlebar moustache, scrutinized the card for a moment, his stern expression changing as he met Javier’s eyes. “Sorry, Mr. Bainbridge. Can’t be too careful.”

“Not to worry,” Javier’s gaze dropped to the name badge on his chest, “Marvin. Keep up the good work.”

Sami stepped forward and gave Javier a quick two-pat hug as he whispered, “Brought earpieces and cameras.” He patted the pocket of his charcoal-gray sports coat.

Easing back a step, Javier looked toward Sky. “I knew we were friends with these two for a reason.”

Sky broke into a grin. “They earn their keep. I guess.”

Callie chuckled while Javier gave another nod to the security guards. He waved his friends on.

“Let me show you where GDL’s models are.”

Once they were backstage again, Javier searched for an empty corner, free from prying eyes.

“Same routine as usual.” Sami dug a hand into the bag he’d slung over his shoulder. “Stick the earbuds in and pin the cameras somewhere unnoticeable.”

Sky accepted the devices, already planning to pin the camera in the strap seam of her sapphire dress. “Did you bring a plan with you as well?”

Sami winced at the question.

Sky didn’t like that look. “What is it?”

“Delia thinks we should use her as bait.” Sami ground his jaw. “She’s already talked to this Silva guy and thinks he’s interested enough that she could lure him.”

Sky bit her tongue hard to keep from shouting in frustration. “Of course he’s interested. He’s also a disgusting son of a bitch predator who gets off on torturing and killing beautiful women like Delia. She’s been through enough. We are not using her as bait. No. Absolutely not.”

“I agree.” Callie patted Sky’s arm. “And so does Sami. We’re going to shoot that idea down again as soon as she’s available to speak with us. On top of that, we’ve got company tonight. So whatever we do, we need to be aware that the eyes of the law are on us.”

Javier stiffened, glancing toward the backstage exit. “Cops?”

“We contacted Houghton and told him about the photographer. He thinks he’s probably going to lie low for a while, having taken two women in such a brief span of time. That means the NYPD won’t have more than one or two people keeping watch.” Callie chanced a look over her shoulder. “They aren’t planning any kind of sting yet. Houghton thinks if they can follow him, it might lead to bigger fish. Take down the entire operation.”

“He’s waiting this out? That’s bullshit. What about Mariela? She could still be alive.” Sky’s tone sharpened. “We’ve practically confirmed this guy killed Kelsey and kidnapped another woman. You mean to tell me Dante isn’t going in with guns blazing?”

Javier put a hand on Sky’s shoulder. “Listen, your anger is understandable. You expect him to serve and protect, not wait for a better opportunity. But there has to be a good reason for law enforcement to make alternate plans.”

“Get mad, girl. Go ahead. I don’t like it any more than you do.” Callie held out her hands, either asking for a hug or standing wide open and offering Sky a free shot. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but he has to connect all the dots before he can make an arrest.”

“Well, I’m not waiting around to find out how that goes for him.” Sky’s nostrils flared again as she drew in a heavy breath. “We can’t use Delia as bait. But baiting this asshole is the best plan. The only plan. And Delia isn’t our only option.” She placed her pointer finger on her chest.

“No.” Javier’s immediate refusal was expected. “This isn’t fishing. The guy is a psychopath. You just said it yourself, Sky. ‘A disgusting son of a bitch predator.’ We’re not dangling you out there to catch him.”

“I can handle it.” Sky put her hand on his arm. She appreciated his concern, but her mind was made up.

Javier looked to Callie for backup. “Talk some sense into her, will you?”

Sky pressed her finger to her lips. “Keep your voice down. You want the whole place to hear?”

“It’s not a terrible idea.” Callie frowned. “It’s our best shot at getting him tonight. Possibly our only shot.”

Javier nudged Sami. “C’mon, man. If it’s a bad idea for Delia, it’s a bad idea for Sky. Right?”

“Well…” Sami slid his gaze toward Sky and back to Javier. “There’s a difference there. Sky doesn’t have the same trauma and triggers as Delia. She’ll be able to keep her cool. And Callie’s right. It might be our only shot at getting him. There’s no guarantee the cards will ever fall like this again.”

“You’ve all lost your damn minds.” Javier blew out a long sigh. “If we’re doing this, we’re keeping Sky within sight at all times. It won’t help anyone if we just feed him a new victim.” He whirled to Sky, his eyes fierce on her face. “And I’ll be damned if that victim is you.”

Sky grabbed Javier’s hand. “Of course. Stay close. But we’re doing this.”

His brown eyes pleaded with her to reconsider as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“No time to waste, then.” Callie clapped her hands together, breaking up the tension. “Let’s get this show on the road. But…”

Sami’s expression darkened. “But?”

Callie chewed at her lip for a second. “If this guy is part of a larger organization, removing him could set Houghton back in his case.”

“I don’t care about what Dante might or might not be planning.” Sky set her mouth in a thin line. “No offense to him. But one woman is already dead. Another could be. And there may have been nine more before that. If this is our guy, I want his ass in jail now.” She pounded her fist into her palm. “Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.”

31

The show lasted longer than I had hoped, but there were enough shots to keep my assistant busy for the next few days. I had earned my playtime with Sky Stryker, and like a gift from Heaven, the auburn-haired firecracker was walking my way.

With any luck, she’d fall right into my hands.

I lifted my camera once more and pointed it toward her, snapping a quick shot.

“Has anyone ever told you that you could be a model?” That line never failed to earn a smile.

She looked away, a grin tugging at her lips. “Yeah. Actually, I get told that a lot.”

Someone clearly thinks highly of herself.

“People tell me I look like my cousin. She was pretty well-known before she passed away.” Her freckled face blossomed into a full smile. “You might remember her. Megan Nowicki?”

Of course I fucking remember Megan. I even photographed her a few times before she ended up floating in the Hudson like a dead trout.

Sky would have met a similar fate if she hadn’t slipped through my fingers when Dustin and I tried to nab her. I refused to allow that to happen this time.

“Now that you mention it, I totally see the resemblance. Such a shame.” I clucked my tongue. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like you did it.” She let out an exaggerated laugh and reached out to stroke the outside of my arm. “Wow. Lifting that camera all day sure builds muscles, huh?”

Her sudden change in demeanor gave me pause. Wasn’t she here with Javier Bainbridge? Still, I feigned amusement at her attempt to flatter me.

“You probably get that all the time, being surrounded by women like you always are. I’m sure they all love it when you’re their photographer.” Sky batted her eyelashes like a cartoon character.

Unnatural and overdone.

“Only when they want something.” I turned away, busying myself with the camera bag as I searched for the lens cap. What was this little Jezebel scheming around for?

In three hours tops, you’re going to wish to god you had never laid eyes on me, you conniving little bitch.

“Oh, I don’t want anything. I just had to come over and say hi. I’ve been working up the courage since I arrived.”

“Didn’t you come here with the COO of Guillermo De Luca?” She might be falling in my lap, but I wasn’t going to play her nosy writer-girl games. She was probably looking for some juicy gossip for her next tell-all.

The dirty details I planned to show her would never make it to print.

“Oh. Yeah. But apparently, he has eyes for someone else.” Sky’s voice turned bitter.

That sparked my interest enough to glance up. An angry sneer had replaced her previous smile. She was not the kind of girl who got cuter when heated.

“He’s not even being shy about it.” She indicated the stage. “Just look at that asshole.”

I followed the trail her finger indicated. There he was, Mr. Moneybags. And on his arm was the ebony-haired woman I’d spoken with before the show.

Seems she traded me in for a more expensive model. Can’t say I’m surprised. Gold-digging slut.

“Men are pigs.” I gave her a sympathetic laugh, aware that we could be much more than that.

Just wait till you see what a horrific beast I am.

“Anyway. I can see you’re busy. I should go.” Sky turned to leave, giving me a front-row seat to her lovely swaying behind. “That bastard has left me no choice but to walk home alone like a freaking peasant or something.”

I looked back at the stage. Bainbridge was still there, making a flamboyant show of flirting with his new model while Sky sulked off toward the exit.

Ashley had demanded I take Sky Stryker tonight. What neither she nor I had realized was just how easy the task would turn out to be.

The little idiot would be walking home alone in the dark within minutes. An easy snatch-and-grab. But I would have to hurry.

32

“I’m heading outside.” Sky’s heart raced as she passed the security guards at the door.

“Sami and I will be walking behind you, just out of sight.” Javier’s voice came through the tiny earpiece in her left ear.

“Delia and I are stationed and watching.” Callie reconfirmed the two women were in Javier’s SUV with the camera feed pulled up on Sami’s laptop.

I’ve got multiple eyes and ears on me. I’m good. There’s no reason to panic.

Though she had been adamant about this plan, Sky couldn’t help the knot in her throat as she took those first few steps out onto the dark street. The guys would be right behind her. She wasn’t planning to go far. Two blocks down Pearl Street, she needed to turn right on Pine. Not far down that street, there should be a plaza. That was as far as she and the rest agreed for her to go.

Arturo would no doubt attempt to kidnap her, but Javier and Sami would stop him. The attempted kidnapping would be on camera, thanks to the pin-sized device on her dress strap.

A criminal caught in the act. That was the plan.

But as she came to the second block, the sign read Cedar Street. Shit. Was it Cedar or Pine? She remembered the street was the name of a tree, but her brain spun as she tried to recall.

As Sky opened her mouth to ask, the scuffle of shoes somewhere behind her froze the words in her throat.

Terror trickled through her veins, but she couldn’t back out now. This might be their only chance. Reminding herself that she wasn’t truly alone—Sami and Javier wouldn’t be far behind her, and Callie and Delia were monitoring everything she saw—Sky crossed the street.

Pine. It was definitely Pine. I was this close to taking the wrong street. Super sleuth move, moron.

“No signs of Silva yet.” Sami’s voice in her earbud offered some reassurance.

But that doesn’t mean he’s not out there. He could have taken alleyways. Run down a side street and cut across.

Lower Manhattan was a veritable maze of hidden paths.

Putting one foot in front of the other, Sky tried to look natural as she headed down a narrow lane between high-rises.

One block down.

One to go.

Just keep walking. Normal pace. Don’t act suspicious.

She could do it. They’d all had closer calls before.

“Javier, you got eyes on Sky?” Sami’s voice buzzed in her ear.

“I don’t see her anymore.” Javier’s voice was laced with worry. “Sky, are you still on Pearl Street?”

“Yep.” Sky kept her voice to a whisper and fought the urge to look over her shoulder. “I see the sign for Pine Street up ahead. Am I walking too fast?” The tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled, spurring her to quicken her pace even more.

“No. We lost sight of you, but we’re not far behind.” Sami’s tone was so sharp, it grated against Sky’s ears. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Breathe, Sky.” Javier’s voice came through as intense as Sami’s, but it lacked the sharpness that had set Sky’s ears ringing. “You’re doing great.”

“And we’re right there with you, girl.” Delia’s soothing tone worked to calm Sky’s nerves. “We’re seeing it all.”

Sky hesitated as she made it to Pine Street. Construction signs and scaffolding framed the path, creating a dark and slender tunnel between two buildings flanking Pine Street.

Lights on the other end of the tunnel were visible, but the thought of going through was nearly as panic-inducing as turning around and risking a face-to-face with the photographer.

Just like old times. Me stuck in a confined dark space. But without my dead best friend decomposing beside me.

She cast a glance over her shoulder to see if Javier and Sami had gained on her, but the darkened street she’d just come from refused to reveal its secrets. People were milling about, but none she recognized. Not even Javier. If the photographer were there, she’d never spot him. It was a wonder she’d made it this far without incident.

Maybe Arturo Silva hadn’t taken the bait after all.

Sky couldn’t explain how, but she sensed a dangerous presence lurking in the shadows. Someone was waiting for her.

Stop being ridiculous. Of course I sense someone. Javier is back there, even if I can’t see him right now. Keep going before you blow this mission.

She had to keep pressing forward, even if that meant facing her fears and walking through the tunnel.

“Heading down Pine,” Sky whispered as she took her first shaky step forward.

“You’ve got this.” Javier’s confidence in her gave her the boost of courage she needed. “Just know I’m not far behind.”

She took another step.

See? I’m fine. Before I know it, I’ll be out⁠—

An arm slithered around Sky’s neck, constricting like a steel coil. Terror raced through her system, but a hand clamped over her mouth before she could scream. The warmth of a strong body pressed against her backside as his python-like grip squeezed her throat. Panic flared—a wild, desperate need to fight, to breathe, to survive.

Desperation surged through Sky, but she knew she had to think clearly. With what little leverage she possessed, she drove her elbow back, hard and fast, into the solid mass behind her. A sharp oof escaped him—a small victory that jolted through her like a surge of electricity.

The grip around her neck faltered enough that air seared into her lungs. Her mind sharpened, instincts locking into place. She wasn’t done yet.

“What was that?” Sami’s shrill tone added to the ringing of Sky’s ears. “Are you okay? Sky, answer us.”

“She’s being attacked!” Callie screamed through the airwaves. “Sky, say something!”

Sky struggled against her captor, gasping for breath. “Help!”

“We’re coming. Fight like hell!” Javier pleaded through her earpiece.

Nearby, tires screeched, and metal crunched. Horns honked. Voices rose in panic. Her captor’s grip tightened, squeezing the fight out of her.

Sky couldn’t move. Couldn’t draw the breath she needed to warn her friends of the chaos unfolding. What if⁠—

A sharp pain pierced her neck, quickly followed by a bloom of fire. Seconds later, a cold wave of disorientation crashed through her veins.

Shot. He gave me a shot of something to⁠—

Her thoughts splintered. She tried to fight, but her limbs went slack, her world tipping and twisting, slipping out of reach.

33

“Sky?” Javier listened to the radio silence with a mounting sense of doom. “Sky! Answer me!”

Sami crackled in his ear. “Something’s happened. Her earpiece is either out or…”

“Or she’s out.” Callie finished the sentence for him. “But we’d still hear something if the earpiece was functioning. It’s gone silent. Delia and I are heading up Pine Street now. With any luck, she’ll still be there. You boys need to run. Now.”

But Javier had already been sprinting like he was back in basic training for the army. A mantra pounded through his brain with each single step.

Please. Be. Okay. Please. Be. Okay.

He and Sami arrived nearly simultaneously, panting and frantic as they joined Callie and Delia, who’d pulled to the curb and were searching the small, poorly lit corner for signs of Sky…or what might have happened to her.

Callie’s voice was sharp. “Her camera went black. Couldn’t see a thing. It might have gotten knocked from her dress. Or her dress was removed.”

“Or Silva found the pin camera and smashed it.” Sami balled his fists at his sides.

“She’s gone.” Tears streamed from Delia’s eyes. She clutched Sky’s purse to her chest. “We found her bag and her phone on the sidewalk, but Sky’s gone.”

Javier struggled to stay upright as Delia’s statement hit him like a gut punch. “We can’t track her location without her phone.”

Gone. Sky’s gone. I finally had her. And now I’ll never see her again. Not alive anyway.

Swaying slightly, Javier took several deep breaths to calm himself.

“We don’t need her phone.” Sami pulled out his own, swiping and tapping the screen with frantic energy. “The camera pin has GPS tracking. As long as it’s still on her dress and her dress is still on…or near…her, we can track it.”

Javier tried to digest the implications of Sami’s and Callie’s words.

Sky’s dress might have been removed. Might still be near her.

There’s only one reason for it to not be on her body. Maybe she’s being assaulted and tortured at this very moment.

Sami raised a fist. “I’ve got a signal. Looks like they’re headed north out of the city. Speeding. They have to be. They’ve got a small head start on us.”

“Keys.” Javier barked the command at Callie.

She handed them over, giving him a shove toward the waiting vehicle. “It’ll be okay, but you can’t freak out. We’ll follow them wherever they’re going. We’ll save her. I’m calling Houghton right now.”

Javier jumped into the driver seat of his Escalade, barely waiting for his friends to climb in and the last door to slam shut before he stepped on the gas and pulled into traffic.

I will not lose Sky to this maniac. I will find her. I will save her. And I will make that sick bastard pay for ever having looked at her twice.

34

Sky attempted to open her eyes, but her heavy lids refused to obey. Her cheek rested against something cold and rough.

Concrete. Just like in the videos of Kelsey.

“‘This Will Be You’ is right.” Sky whispered the words to herself, coming to grips with the series of events that must have taken place while she was out.

Arturo Silva had taken her to his lair. He’d also taken her dress, leaving her in her bra and underwear. Nothing else.

Forcing one eye to crack open just a little, she caught a quick glimpse of the dungeon-like room. Concrete floor. Concrete walls. One large mirror that was almost certainly of the two-way variety. And a door she’d bet her life was locked.

She’d become a prisoner. And thanks to the series of videos sent to her, Sky was well aware of what happened to Silva’s captives.

Attempting to sit up, she found her body uncooperative. He’d obviously drugged her. Shot her full of some sedative or relaxant. Each limb weighed a million pounds.

A sharp clank of metal scraping at the door sent her heartbeat pounding. Someone was unlocking it. And Sky knew who that someone was.

Unsure what to do, she pretended to be asleep as the door cranked open.

“See. She’s right there.” Silva’s deep voice was immediately recognizable. “I fucking told you.”

“I’ll admit I’m impressed.” The second voice was barely a whisper. Sky couldn’t even tell if it belonged to a man or a woman.

Silva chuckled, the sound sending knives of terror through her brain. “You’ll be even more impressed after you watch me break this one in. I’ve come up with an entirely new method. Thought of it on the drive over.”

“I honestly don’t give a shit about your circus show.” The other party whispered so low that Sky could barely make out the words. “Do what you want with her. Just leave her alive. I’ll take my turn…maybe a few of them…but the boss has a hard-on. So no snuff stuff. Yet.”

Turns. They were planning to each take a fatal turn with her. Images of the horrors visited upon Kelsey Vinn flashed through Sky’s mind. Kelsey was dead now, with Mariela’s fate unknown. But Sky’s near future included certain pain, suffering, and torture.

At some point, they’d grow tired of her and complete their snuff film.

I have to fight.

“Are you sure that earpiece was destroyed?” the whisperer demanded. “It was obviously hooked to something or someone. We can’t risk this location being traced. The boss will murder us both.”

“Stomped it as soon as I found it. Chucked it in a city dumpster.”

“And you searched her dress thoroughly.”

Silva chuckled. “Nothing on the dress.”

Sky exhaled. He hadn’t found the camera in the pin on her dress. She would give Sami a huge kiss on the cheek for that piece of equipment.

If she got out of here alive.

“Nothing in those fancy lace panties either. Took my time checking those.”

Bile rose in Sky’s throat. What exactly had he done to her while she was unconscious?

Do I really want to know?

Sheer willpower kept her from vomiting.

Let them think I’m still out.

Sensation was beginning to return to her fingers and hands, and her legs were starting to tingle. Soon, she’d be able to move. And when she did, those first movements had to count.

“Listen,” the second voice, still low, commanded. “I have to run back to the city. I left one of my favorite tools at my apartment, and I’ve been dreaming of using it on this bitch. Of course, I’ll take the alternate route to stay on the safe side. So you’ll have her all to yourself for a few hours. But you kill her, so help me god, I will kill you.”

“Just get the fuck out of here.” Silva’s growl implied there was no love lost between himself and his cohort. “Or so help me god, I’ll kill you first.”

Angry muttering followed but seemed to fade away as Silva’s companion left the room, presumably giving him what he wanted.

Time alone with me. “A few hours” to exact heinous, unimaginable evils on my body.

Heavy footsteps drew closer, echoing the thudding of Sky’s heart.

35

“How did that asshole get out of the city so damn fast?” Javier slammed his palms against the steering wheel, waiting to merge into the left lane, where traffic was slowly creeping past an accident scene.

“This accident looks recent.” Callie’s tone was grim. “Bet you anything he squeaked out before traffic choked into one lane.”

Each second passed in agony. Javier clocked four whole minutes before he could bring his vehicle up to speed. He floored the gas pedal, the darkened tree line whipping past as they sped down the highway into heavily wooded, rural New York.

“Here!” Sami’s shout from the passenger seat rattled through the SUV. “This is the turn!”

Callie stuck her head between the two as Javier exited the highway and steered onto a two-lane side road. “You boys need to calm down. Freaking out and yelling won’t get us there any faster.”

In no world did Javier have the ability to control his emotions with Sky in danger. They hadn’t all spent thirty-plus years as federal agents.

And this isn’t a stranger. This isn’t a random case. It’s the woman I love.

His stomach wrenched as the truth seeped through his bones. Deep down, he must have known for some time that what he felt for Sky was love. But being hit with the actual realization under the current circumstances bordered on unbearable.

“Almost there, almost there.” Sami had lowered his voice from a shout, but just barely. “Take the next left, and we should see a lane on the right. Yes. Keep going. There.”

Javier followed the directions with precision, the SUV’s tires screeching against the pavement.

Delia’s whispered pleas from the back seat did little to calm his pounding heartbeat. “Please be okay, Sky. Please, please be okay.”

“I see it.” Sami pointed wildly ahead. “That’s where her pin camera is pinging.”

“Still nothing on the camera feed,” Callie confirmed before anyone could ask.

What appeared to be a broken-down, abandoned warehouse came into view in the headlights.

“Are we sure this is the place?” Javier braked to a stop, praying Sky was there and simultaneously hating that she’d been taken to such a horrific shithole to endure⁠—

Don’t go there. Focus on the rescue.

Sami opened his door. “GPS doesn’t lie.” He pointed toward the property. “But I guarantee you every damn entrance is locked and bolted shut. We need backup.”

The sound of sirens pealed through the air.

Callie gave Javier a triumphant clap on the shoulder. “Backup’s here, kids.”

Two unmarked police cars pulled off the road behind them. Detective Dante Houghton practically hurled himself out of the front car. “I should’ve known you people would cause all kinds of problems.” His face was pinched and angry. “Stay put. We’ll take it from here.”

Javier took four steps after the officers, fully intending to follow them in. Callie caught his shoulder.

“Let the professionals handle this.”

“The professionals who haven’t listened to a damn word we’ve said.” Javier gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to smack Callie’s hand off him. But as a former FBI agent, she could put him on the ground before he blinked.

“If they hadn’t listened, they wouldn’t be here.” Her calm and reasonable tone annoyed Javier, given the circumstances, but he took a deep breath and heeded her command.

36

“C’mon, Sleeping Beauty. That shit should have worn off by now.”

It had.

Sky purposely remained limp while Silva stood behind her and lifted her like a rag doll from the floor, pulling her to her full height.

Now. Act now.

Adrenaline flooded her system. As soon as her feet caught purchase on the concrete, she attacked, throwing her hips back hard.

Silva bent forward as the force of her hips pressed against his midsection. Sky twisted her body, fidgeting and squirming as she angled for the space and leverage she needed to break free.

His viselike hold offered her no slack. Heart racing, Sky rammed her elbow backward, connecting with soft tissue.

A good gut shot did the trick.

Silva let out a grunt and loosened his grip. “Who the hell do you think you are, little girl?”

Hatred, dark and venomous, raged in Sky’s chest. “I’m the woman who’s going to make you answer for what you’ve done.” Wasting no time, she wriggled free and ground her heel into his foot. Howling in agony, Silva was quick to rewrap his gloved fingers around her wrist.

Oh, no you don’t.

Muscle memory from all her Krav Maga training with Delia took over. Quick and dirty, Sky stepped out and rotated her wrist in his hand. Using the force of his hold, she aimed a strike right above his elbow, putting every ounce of strength she could muster into it.

The crack of his joint vibrated through their connection before his yelping cry reached her ears. “Bitch! You’ll pay for that!”

This time, as she planted a foot, Sky yanked his injured arm forward. He toppled, releasing her hand as he windmilled his arms to regain balance.

Sky glanced at the still-open door, briefly wondering if Silva’s whispering sidekick was still close enough to hear the scuffle. Had they really left, or were they still lingering nearby?

The momentary distraction was all her attacker needed to regroup. Before Sky could put distance between them, he lunged at her, wrapping his arms around her waist as his body collided with hers.

Together, they tumbled down.

Twisting to the side as she fell, Sky collided hip first with the floor. Her shoulder scraped the concrete with a painful sting just before her head smacked pavement.

Stars danced before her eyes.

Sky fought to blink away the distortion in her vision as the throbbing burn of her shoulder kept her rooted to the spot.

She tried to roll away but met with a swift kick instead. Pain bloomed across her chest. Something cracked. Her rib? She shrieked, unable to hold back the cry. Her vision blinked back in time for her to see her attacker drop on top of her.

The weight of his body crushed the air from her lungs. She gasped, struggling to draw a breath.

Think. Stay calm. Kick his ass.

She’d run this drill so many times in Krav Maga, but Sky struggled, biting back tears, as she searched for the leverage to topple him.

Silva gripped her wrists tight and pinned them above her head as he sneered down at her. “If you stop fighting, this won’t have to hurt so much.”

Sky glared into his eyes, refusing to give up. Her words came out in rage-filled gasps. “I…will never stop fighting.” She lifted one leg and set it down just outside of his. “I know…what you’re…c-capable of, and I have no intention…of being…in your snuff films.”

Her words startled Silva. His mouth gaped open as his eyes widened. “How do you know about those?”

Was he toying with her, or did he really not know she had seen them? “Someone sent them to me.”

His grip slackened for a moment, but as Sky tried to take advantage of it, he retightened his hold and smashed her hands against the concrete. “Who sent you these videos?”

“You tell me.” She spat the words in his face.

If it wasn’t him…then who? The whispering person he’d been speaking with when she regained consciousness?

His grip slackened again as his gaze shifted from Sky’s face toward the door. “That bitch.” Silva’s words came out on a whispered hiss.

A million questions about “that bitch” ran through Sky’s mind, but she couldn’t risk wasting Silva’s moment of distraction. If she didn’t get out of there fast, she might not have another chance. She pressed all her weight into her shoulders, bucking her hips.

With his center of gravity focused on restraining her hands, his body fell forward.

Arturo released his hold on her as he splayed his hands on either side of her head to prevent his face from meeting the cement.

It worked!

His head hovered over hers, teeth on display as he grimaced. Remembering her training, she balled her right hand in a fist, sending it straight for his nose while her left snaked around and trapped one of the arms he was using to brace himself.

As soon as her punch connected, Sky threw all her weight to the left, pressing on his trapped arm as she rolled her hips and knocked his body sideways.

She rolled on top of him, roaring with a mixture of success and rage. Sky punched his jaw, fury roiling through her.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Silva’s head snapped sideways. His eyes rolled backward, and his body went limp against the cement.

Shocked at her own success, Sky marveled for a moment at having taken the bastard down. But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, another followed.

Did I…kill him?

She scrambled to her feet. She’d killed in self-defense before. Never had she wanted to do it again.

She didn’t have time to care.

As she raced to the door, a giant slamming sound echoed through the building, and she skidded to a halt. Who was there? She had to be careful.

“Police! Drop your weapons! Show yourselves!”

Those were the most beautiful words she’d ever heard.

Sky screamed for help as her legs grew weak. She sank to her knees, her muscles screaming, the burn in her ribs growing hotter by the second. Her vision blurred. She’d been working on pure adrenaline, and the crack to her head proved more dizzying than she’d realized.

As the world dimmed, Detective Dante Houghton’s face appeared, and he caught her before darkness swallowed her whole.

37

“She’s waking up,” Javier called over his shoulder to Sami.

He’d never been so worried in all his life. He’d never forgive himself for letting Sky go off alone like that. Like she was nothing more than prey.

Her life was too precious to risk.

But I dangled her like a worm over a lake, didn’t I?

Flashing lights blinked red and blue as sirens pierced the quiet night with their shrill cries.

Eyes fluttering open and shut, Sky reached out and touched Javier’s face, where he hovered over her lying in the back of an ambulance. “Is it really you?”

“Yes.” Javier breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re safe. Delia and Callie are here too. The cops have raided the entire building. They found Mariela alive.” He grabbed her hand, the pads of his fingers gently caressing the broken skin on her knuckles.

“They did?” Tears streamed from Sky’s eyes as she struggled to sit. She clutched at the blanket the paramedics had wrapped around her.

“Yes. The paramedics checked your vitals while you were out, but they’ll want to look at you again now that you’re awake, and you’re gonna have to go to the hospital. I don’t know if you need to stand just yet.”

She pressed one hand to the floor and pushed herself to her feet, wobbling a little as she rose. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about it.”

As if I could ever stop worrying about you.

Her gaze flitted from Javier’s face to Sami, who stood patient and silent behind Javier. “You caught him, Sky. You kicked Arturo Silva’s ass.”

As promised, two paramedics appeared and began their routine checks and questions. Sky’s responses all seemed coherent. Alert.

She’s really going to be okay.

Part of Javier wanted to sink to the ground and sob with relief, but that emotional hurricane would come later. When he was alone and free to let loose all that he’d held inside while Sky’s life hung in the balance

A familiar face showed up next. Detective Dante Houghton.

He pulled out a notepad and pen as he came strolling up to Javier, eyeing Sky for a moment but apparently not wanting to interrupt her checkup. “You guys just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?”

His expression might have been congenial, but the detective’s clipped tone suggested otherwise.

“The way I see it,” Javier struggled to keep his tone as calm as Dante’s, “our involvement in hunting down this asshole wouldn’t have been necessary if the NYPD had picked him up when we gave you the information.”

“You’re not a cop, so I don’t expect you to understand our procedures, but there’s a reason for everything we do and don’t do. You’d be wise to remember that.” A challenging growl edged Detective Houghton’s voice, but Javier didn’t care to argue the matter further.

“She’s going to be all right.” Javier’s heart throbbed as he glanced at Sky. “You found Mariela Navarro alive. And Arturo Silva is going to prison. What’s done is done.”

Dante heaved a heavy breath and rubbed the stubble at his chin. “You let Sky step into the line of fire, Mr. Bainbridge. If you’re trying to win her, could you at least do us all the courtesy of keeping her safe?”

The implications of the detective’s statements were not lost on Javier. He flashed a look at Sky, whose cheeks had reddened.

Dante was interested in Sky. Had planned on pursuing her. And now he’d been the one to rush into danger to save her.

“She’ll never be in that situation again.” Javier dipped his chin, making the promise to himself as well as the detective.

“Excuse me, but I get to make that call, don’t I?” Sky narrowed her eyes as she glanced from Dante to Javier. “And I don’t need either of you to protect me.”

Dante’s nostrils flared. “I’ll take your official statements while they haul this guy down to the station. Let’s just hope we’re not cutting off our noses by arresting him.”

“He’s taken at least two women that we are aware of. Three if you count me.” Sky raised her eyebrows. “How is that not worth arresting?

“Those videos are too high-quality for standard porn connoisseurs.” Dante’s tone softened considerably as he addressed her. “That suggests a production team. Add to that the number of models who’ve gone missing, and we have a much bigger picture to paint. Arturo Silva wasn’t working alone.”

Sky nodded. “There was someone else here. I heard him talking to another person before…before we fought. They whispered, though. I wasn’t even sure of their gender, though I think he called them a bitch, so the accomplice is probably a woman. Either way, you’re right. Silva wasn’t working alone.”

“Knew it,” Houghton grumbled. He pointed at all of them in turn. “That’s why you need to stay out of this. Stop getting involved in dangerous operations that are far above your heads.”

Sky pressed her fingers to her temples. “We couldn’t let him take another model tonight.”

“You sound so certain. Do you honestly think that if he had taken another model tonight, we,” Dante pointed to his badge, “wouldn’t have known?” He speared her with a look that dared her to keep talking. “I’m surprised, being friends with Agent Baros as you are, that you would think so little of those who serve and protect.”

“That’s not the way we feel. We all think very highly of the NYPD and FBI.” Sami jumped in before Sky could, and Javier understood why. As riled up as she was, there was no telling what might fly out of her mouth.

“Listen, Detective.” Javier stepped in between Dante and Sky. “We couldn’t allow one of our own to be harmed. I feel personally responsible when something happens at a GDL show.”

“You might have protected your models, but I’d say one of your own was harmed regardless, don’t you think?” Dante pointed the end of his pen at Sky. “We have procedures for a reason.”

Sami came up behind the detective. “How can we help?”

“I think your group has done quite enough. Right now, I just need statements.” Dante turned his back on them. “Ms. Stryker, you first. And then we need to get you to the hospital. You never should have been put in this position, especially considering the ground we might have lost by busting Silva tonight.”

Javier and Sami exchanged glances. Based on the forlorn look in Sami’s expression, he had to be thinking the same thing as Javier.

Had they been wrong to take down the photographer? A bigger organization could be working behind the scenes. Sky had mentioned one other person. But that could have been a partner or a subordinate. It didn’t mean there was an entire network of demented, evil minds involved in this venture.

Unless, maybe, it did.

Those were questions Javier didn’t have the stomach to give voice to. At least, not at the moment.

For now, Sky was safe. Banged up pretty bad, but she was so strong, and she would heal. They had rescued Mariela before she suffered the same fate as Kelsey. Plus, they’d taken another killer off the streets. And for the first time in quite a while, Javier had been able to help.

It might not be a victory to the cops, but Javier would take it as a win. And he’d stand by his words. Nothing like this would ever come close to happening to Sky again.

While he was alive and drawing breath, she would remain safe.

And loved.

38

Sky scrolled through various streaming services, looking for something to watch. After the past few days, she didn’t have the attention span for anything heavier than comedy.

But nothing was catching her interest.

Writing was also beyond her mental scope at the moment. She paused and stared at the pile of research notes next to her laptop. Even the sight of everything she had to do gave her a headache.

She forced herself to refocus on the television. Should she pick a calming baking show instead of a rom-com? Sky wished Javier was available this evening. But with Fashion Week approaching, she doubted she’d see him for more than a few minutes over the next couple weeks.

Her ribs probably couldn’t take her and Javier’s recreational activities anyway.

She shifted her ice pack to a more comfortable position.

Finally, she selected a Drew Barrymore comedy and stood to get some popcorn. Right as the kernels were bursting in the microwave, her phone rang. The ID read New York Police Department.

“I’ve seen enough of you people.” She declined the call and tossed the phone down on the couch, where it immediately went off again.

Sky groaned. She dragged her feet to the couch and retrieved the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Sky.” It was Dante. Sky pressed the ice pack into her side. She wondered if he was calling to lecture her. “How are you feeling? The ribs okay?”

“Getting better.” She wasn’t going to give him more information than was absolutely necessary.

“That’s good to hear. Look, I know you’re recovering from your…adventures.”

Sky rolled her eyes.

“But that’s what I need to talk to you about. Can you come into the station tomorrow?”

“Why don’t you just tell me what you want to tell me now?”

A pause stretched on the other side of the line. “Because what I need to say requires a more professional setting.”

Detective Dante Houghton had always been professional and courteous—if overly passionate on occasion—but there was something of a threat in his tone now that she didn’t like.

“What’s going on?”

“I need to speak with you about your actions over the past few days. You and your team. I’ve already spoken to everyone else. They will be here at seven tomorrow evening. Apparently, that was the only time Mr. Bainbridge was available.” There was a hint of irritation in Dante’s voice now.

Sky gripped her phone tight. “Are you going to arrest us or something?”

“Probably not.”

They hung up, and Sky stared at Drew Barrymore’s grinning face on her television screen.

“What now?”

The End

To be continued…

WHAT’S NEXT?

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How did it all start for Sky Stryker?

Before she moved to The Big Apple, Sky Stryker was just a small-town girl whose shattered life was spiraling out of control. Discover how tragedy shaped her into the relentless investigative writer she is today, driven to uncover the truth and bring justice to light. Dive into Sky's transformative journey in this exclusive short story, completely free. Interested?

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Storm’s Fury (Amelia Storm Series: Book 1)

Military veteran Amelia Storm returns to her hometown of Chicago when her beloved police officer brother is killed in the “line of duty. Now she is a special agent with the FBI. No longer a scared girl, she vows to avenge her brother and do what she can to end the city’s deep wells of corruption. A television documentary puts a spotlight on a four-year-old kidnapping. Amelia and her colleagues in the Organized Crime Division know there’s more to the girl’s case than meets the eye. The twelve-year-old wasn’t just abducted. She was targeted by a human trafficking ring. Intrigued?

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SERIES READING ORDER

Fatal Beginnings (Sky Stryker Series: Prequel)

Fatal Secrets (Sky Stryker Series: Book One)

Fatal Lies (Sky Stryker Series: Book Two)

Fatal Beauty (Sky Stryker Series: Book Three)

Fatal Massacre (Sky Stryker Series: Book Four)

Fatal Act (Sky Stryker Series: Book Five)

Fatal Terror (Sky Stryker Series: Book Six)

Fatal Turn (Sky Stryker Series: Book Seven)

Coming Soon!

Fatal Wound

Fatal Perfection

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Journey Russo Series

A Villain's Story Series

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Emma Last Series

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Charli Cross Series

Shadow Island Series

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

How does one adequately express gratitude to all those who have transformed a shared dream into a stunning reality? Let us attempt to do just that.

First and foremost, our families deserve our deepest thanks. Their unwavering support and encouragement have been our bedrock, allowing us the time and energy to translate our collective imagination into the words that fill these pages. Their belief in our vision has been a constant source of strength and inspiration.

As coauthors, our journey has been uniquely collaborative and rewarding. Now, with Mary also embracing the additional role of publisher, our adventure has taken on an exciting new dimension. This transition from solely writing to also publishing has been both a challenge and a joy, opening doors to share our work more directly with you, our readers.

We are immensely grateful to the entire team at Mary Stone Publishing — a group who believed in our potential from the very beginning. Their commitment extends beyond editing our words; it encompasses the tireless efforts of designers, marketers, and support staff, all dedicated to bringing our stories to life. Their expertise, creativity, and passion have been vital in capturing the essence of our tales and sharing them with the world.

However, our greatest appreciation is reserved for you, our beloved readers. You took a chance on our book, generously sharing your most precious asset—your time. It is our fervent hope that the pages of this book have rewarded that generosity, offering you a journey worth taking and memories that linger.

With all our love and heartfelt appreciation,

Mary & Bella

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mary Stone

Nestled in the serene Blue Ridge Mountains of East Tennessee, Mary Stone crafts her stories surrounded by the natural beauty that inspires her. What was once a home filled with the lively energy of her sons has now become a peaceful writer's retreat, shared with cherished pets and the vivid characters of her imagination.

As her sons grew and welcomed wonderful daughters-in-law into the family, Mary's life entered a quieter phase, rich with opportunities for deep creative focus. In this tranquil environment, she weaves tales of courage, resilience, and intrigue, each story a testament to her evolving journey as a writer.

From childhood fears of shadowy figures under the bed to a profound understanding of humanity's real-life villains, Mary's style has been shaped by the realization that the most complex antagonists often hide in plain sight. Her writing is characterized by strong, multifaceted heroines who defy traditional roles, standing as equals among their peers in a world of suspense and danger.

Mary's career has blossomed from being a solitary author to establishing her own publishing house—a significant milestone that marks her growth in the literary world. This expansion is not just a personal achievement but a reflection of her commitment to bring thrilling and thought-provoking stories to a wider audience. As an author and publisher, Mary continues to challenge the conventions of the thriller genre, inviting readers into gripping tales filled with serial killers, astute FBI agents, and intrepid heroines who confront peril with unflinching bravery.

Each new story from Mary's pen—or her publishing house—is a pledge to captivate, thrill, and inspire, continuing the legacy of the imaginative little girl who once found wonder and mystery in the shadows.

Discover more about Mary Stone on her website.

www.authormarystone.com

Bella Cross

Bella Cross spent the past fifteen years teaching bored teenagers all about the Dewey Decimal System while inhaling the dust from the library books she loves so much. With each book she read, a little voice in her head would say, "You can do that too." So, she did. A thousand heart palpitations later, she is thrilled to release her first novel with the support of her husband, twin girls, and the gigantic Newfoundland she rescued warming her feet.

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