Page 94 of Dark Truths

“That’s the thing.” He sighs. “Sophia wants her to join us tonight.”

I raise my brow in surprise at the news. “As in?”

“Our bed. Yes,” Alexei confirms, tossing me a look of disbelief like he can’t believe I just asked that question. “Why? Is that surprising?”

Honestly? Yes. Realistically? No. Sophia is a lot like Alexei. Carefree and adventurous in between the sheets. That she was loyal to Michael DiAngelo during their marriage is a miracle all by itself.

“Not at all,” I answer him as I pick up my phone to dial the manager. When he answers, I ask, “When was Ana last in?”

“Last week. She has a shift tonight but is late.”

I frown. She’s never late without good reason. For a whore, she’s remarkably punctual and responsible. “I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Alexei.”

“Hmm.”

“Just think about all the ways you can punish her for being late,” I tell him, which seems to lift his sour mood a little based on his small, playful smile. “I’m sure Sophia will love that.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He moves toward the door. “I think I’ll go tell her that now.” He pauses and glances back. “Unless there was something else you need of me?”

I wave him out, watching him nearly skip out of the room like a little kid told they can have cake for dinner. All things considered, Alexei isn’t too terrible of a guy, and if it’s at all possible, I’m going to try my hardest to keep him free of jail.

Once alone, I tug my necklace free from beneath my shirt and press the middle of the pendant. It buzzes lightly under my touch, letting me know the message has been delivered. A few seconds later, it buzzes back with Gabriella’s answering touch.

A notification sound interrupts my train of thought, alerting me to a new email from an unfamiliar sender with an encrypted message.

From: vikinglord6969

Found this and thought it odd that the business who owns it is a child company owned by a corporation with ties to Sergei Mikailhov. I don’t know if you already know about this place, but it seems rather odd to have utilities on for a place listed as abandoned. Anyway, check it out and try not to get killed. I don’t want to tell Gabriella it’s my fault.

Oh, and make sure you jot the address down now because this email will self-delete in ten seconds.

Oh, and it’s Enzo by the way, in case my username isn’t clue enough.

Surveying the empty street, my eyes are drawn to the flickering streetlamps and the neglected homes. The yards are a tangle of overgrown weeds; the windows boarded up, and graffiti covers the walls.

“Well, this looks cozy,” I mumble under my breath as I examine the home in front of me. Resembling the others on the street, it’s as Enzo described, clearly abandoned. So why is there an active electric and water bill?

I’m not sure what to expect inside and while I hope to find nothing, I still pull my pistol free and check that it’s loaded. The front door is barred, and the windows are sealed shut and boarded up as if preparing for a hurricane or trying to keep something in.

When I reach the backyard, I suddenly hear a deep voice erupt with laughter from inside the house. I quickly flip my flashlight off and duck behind a tree for cover a second before the back door swings open with a loud squeak. A large man steps outside. He strikes up a cigarette and takes a long drag.

“Man, this job blows,” he complains as another man joins him on the back patio. “We can’t even sample the product, which is dumb if you ask me. They’re already whores. What’s one more cock to them?”

His companion laughs and lights his own cigarette. “You’re telling me. The least we can get is our dicks wet while we babysit.”

Dumb fuck number one smacks dumb fuck number two on the chest. “Exactly! This is grunt work and we deserve a little something for it. Am I right?”

I couldn’t agree more. There’s two bullets in my gun itching to bury themselves in their skulls, but I need answers first. Because I’m pretty sure I’ve just stumbled upon a human trafficking house…with ties to the Bratva… and to Sergei.

Fuck.

This is what I’ve been looking for. The evidence the FBI needs. I’m not sure if it’s enough to pin the entire thing on Sergei, but it’s a start.

Dumb fuck number one heads back inside, leaving his partner alone. That’s a mistake. I grab a rock and toss it clear across the yard. It hits a broken fence post, making a sound loud enough to earn his attention.

“What was that?” dumb fuck one hollers from inside.

“Nothing,” dumb fuck two shouts back. “Probably just an animal. I’ll go check. You stay inside.”

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