Page 49 of The Phantom's Vice

“The things I have done are a direct result of the organization. They were orders—nothing more.” He pulls away from me suddenly, his shoulders turning inward. “The things I have done… I regret. I wish to stop the same from happening to other young boys and girls.”

With his last word, my face pales.“Girls?You mean, they…?”

He nods solemnly. “A few select ones are put into the Madam training program, and the rest…” He clenches his fist, body shaking with barely suppressed rage. “The rest, they sell off. I don’t think I need to detail what becomes of them.”

My stomach turns, and I fear I’m about to be physically ill. “I had no idea… I thought it was just high-profile assassinations. I had no idea about the…” I swallow, clutching my abdomen. “I had no idea about thechildren.”

“There is no reason you would have. The Sanctum wants the FBI to think the worst they do is assassinate shitty politicians. And the bureau is so hung up on thehow,they haven’t stopped to questionwhy.Why the Sanctum targets these men, or why they would do it at all if there’s no profit in it.”

I take a shaky breath, my eyes wide as the pieces fall into place. “It’s a diversion. They’ve created a diversion from their real motives—money.”

He nods. “No doubt there’s some money in assassinations—enough pissed-off spouses and angry fathers who want to take out the scumbagsand are willing to pay top dollar to have it done. But it pales in comparison to what the Sanctum makes from their trafficking operation.”

Ghost tilts his head as he takes in my expression. “Are you okay?”

“I think I need to sit down,” I breathe, my sight starting to tunnel. Ghost leads me over to the leather couches on the far side of the library, and I plop down a second before my knees give out.

“Thank you,” I murmur, reaching under my ass and attempting to move whatever’s poking me. I pull it out, frowning down at the neon green tennis ball in my palm. Its edges are frayed as if it's been chewed on, and when I close my hand around it, the ball compresses, accompanied by a squeaking noise.Does he own adog? The thought is nearly too preposterous to believe, yet I’m looking at what is clearly a dog’s chew toy.

As I gaze at the tennis ball, another soul-crushing thought occurs.Venom. I don’t know where he is. Oh God, my poor sweet kitten. I’m the world’s worst cat mom in the universe. I was so concerned about getting out of this situation that I haven’t spared a thought for him. Ihaveto find a way out of here. I have to?—

“What’s the matter, darling?”

I stand from the couch, fully prepared to die fighting this man to have a chance at getting to Venom. “I have to go.”

“I justtoldyou, Brett. You are not leaving. You’re safe here with me.”

“It’s not about that!” I say, raising my cuffed hands over my shoulder like a bludgeon. “I have to protect Venom.”

Ghost tilts his head but makes no move to step forward and stop me. “You don’t need to worry about Venom.”

My heart sinks.No. No, no, no. He didn’t. Hewouldn’t.

“What did you do to my cat, you sick motherfucker?” I snarl, the hatred in my voice surprising me. “If you laid a singlefingeron him, I swear to God I’ll?—”

“Mew!”

My eyes go wide as I glance over Ghost’s shoulder, noticing a giant white fluffy dog trotting into the room. And—more importantly—my sassy black fluffball hot on his heels.

“Venom!” I cry, unable to believe my eyes as I rush past Ghost toward the strange pair. “Venom, you’re okay!”

As soon as I’m within arm’s length, I crouchdown and reach my cuffed hands toward Venom, nearly squealing in delight as he flops over and shows me his belly. He only does that when he’sreallyrelaxed, meaning…

“Has he been taking good care of you, buddy?” I whisper, my smile widening as he purrs contentedly. After a few more scratches, he jumps up and takes off toward the couches. I shrug, turning my attention to the bear-sized dog sitting a few feet away from me.

Noticing my eyes on him, he trots over, his tongue lolling out of his mouth ever so slightly. Instinctually, I reach my hand out, running my fingers through his snow-white fur.He’s so soft. Almost as soft as Venom.

There’s aplop,and I look down in surprise to find the Great Pyrenees on his back, his legs hanging lazily in the air as he awaits belly scratches. I reach out cautiously, keeping my scratches light just in case he decides to change his tune and bite my face off.This guy could do it easily.

“What a traitor.”

I jerk my head up in surprise to find Ghost standing over us, his chest shaking lightly with a laugh. “It took memonthsto get him to do that for me. He must have good taste.”

I blush, hanging my head to hide it from him.Focus, woman. Remember—he is a crazed, serial-killing sociopath.

Although, he did bring Venom to his home for me. He didn’thaveto do that. If he wanted me to suffer, he would have left him at my apartment—or worse. Much, much worse. He can’t bethatbad if he’s taken this good care of not one but two animals. At least, that’s what I’m going to tell myself.

“What’s his name?” I ask, continuing to run my fingernails across his chest.

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