Page 84 of The Bait

“Pierces the lung,” Istomin added, almost cheerfully. Then Larynx pulled the knife out and Yunho recoiled and wheezed.

They’d done that to Harry.

And to Lucas.

Jesus Christ, Asher wanted to weep.

His poor Harry.

“What did you do to him?” Asher asked, louder this time. Anger and rage, both rendered impotent and futile by his bound hands and feet. “What did you do to Harry?”

Istomin watched Asher coolly. “You don’t need to worry about him anymore.” He glanced at his watch. “He’s not dead yet. But it won’t be long.”

No, no. Asher shook his head. “Fuck you. Fuck all ofyou with your fucked-up boy-scout operation of wannabe fucking dictators. So desperate to be relevant?—”

A hard punch made Asher’s head snap back, shutting him up. Larynx loomed over him, fisting Asher’s hair, his angry face far too close. “Shut your fucking mouth or I’ll cut out your tongue.”

“I’m in,” a young voice said behind them, and both Larynx and Istomin turned to look at the monitors on the screen, forgetting momentarily about Asher and Yunho.

The screens began to fill with data, pages of it. Codes, numbers, IP addresses, bank account numbers. It looked a lot like Yunho’s screens in his war room. Like his data and information.

“It wasn’t that difficult to get in,” Yixing said, sparing Yunho a smug glance. “The password was Haemosu. A Korean word.”

“Haemosu.” Asher’s gaze shot to Yunho. “Ciro Savic.”

Yunho’s head shot up and his eyes took a second to focus on Asher, but when they did, Asher knew.

It was his name.

“You knew. You’ve always known,” Asher bit out, still speaking Korean. He shook his head, eyes burning with unshed tears.

The betrayal seared Asher to his core.

He couldn’t even look at him.

“I’ll tell you everything,” Yunho said in Korean, then repeated it in English. “Everything.”

“Are we interrupting?” Istomin yelled, making both Asher and Yunho glance his way. He glowered at them both, then clapped Yixing on the shoulder, smiling at his new favourite pet. “Good boy,” he said. “Good job.”

Radovic clearly didn’t like Istomin praising the kid.

Yixing preened under Istomin’s attention, ignoringRadovic to sniff dismissively at Yunho. “Thoughthewas supposed to be the best. I had it decrypted in under an hour.”

Yunho’s reply was low and raspy, and he spoke in Chinese. Asher’s Chinese was rusty at best, so he couldn’t be entirely sure but it was something likefoolish roosters call the fox.

Yixing stared at Yunho for a long moment.

Istomin looked between them. “What did he say?”

“Nothing,” Yixing murmured, shaking it off and turning his attention back to the monitors. He began to explain routing codes to Istomin who listened intently.

But Asher was sure it meant something. What he’d said to Yixing, what it meant.

Foolish roosters call the fox.

Asher looked at Yunho. His head was now lolled forward, his breathing was laboured, wheezy. His swollen face a testament mask to the beatings he’d taken; bruises, cuts, sweat, blood.

“Yunho,” Asher whispered. “What did you do?”

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