Page 25 of Protecting Lanie

Archer gripped Lanie’s phone so tightly he was half a second away from snapping it in half. The photo on the screen burned into his mind—Lanie, captured in real-time as she entered the club. The timestamp was fresh.

Molina had eyes on her.

Archer forced himself to take a slow, controlled breath. The room felt too small, the air too thick with the scent of Lanie’s fear.

She stood frozen in front of him, her hands wrapped around her arms as if she could hold herself together. Her wide, dark eyes locked onto his, searching for something—reassurance, maybe. Safety.

She was looking tohimfor that.

“You’re not staying here,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Her brows pulled together. “Archer, I...”

He closed the space between them in two steps, cradling her jaw in his rough palm, tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to look at him. “This isn’t a request, little one. Pack anything you need. Clothes, personal items. You’re not coming back here until this is over.”

Lanie bit her lip. “And if I say no?”

His jaw clenched. He stepped closer, looming over her, his voice low and deliberate. “Then I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out.”

Her breath hitched. Heat flared in her eyes, warring with frustration. “That’s not fair.”

Archer’s lips quirked. “You’re damn right it isn’t. Now move, little one.”

She’s done this before. Run. Hidden. Not anymore.

She trembled slightly, but not from fear. He could feel it—the pulse racing beneath her skin, the way her breath came faster. She was overwhelmed, shaken, but she trusted him. That trust was a fragile thing, and he’d be damned if he let anything happen to her.

“Lanie,” he said, voice quieter now, though no less firm. “Molina isn’t just watching. He’s closing in. I’m not going to let him get close enough to take you.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I...”

“I’ll handle him.” The words were a promise. A vow.

Lanie inhaled shakily, her hands still clenched into fists.

“Pack a bag,” he repeated, voice softening just slightly. “You’re coming home with me.”

She didn’t argue this time. Instead, she disappeared into her bedroom. He listened to the quiet shuffle of her movements, the way she moved with a quiet efficiency that told him she knew how to leave without a trace.

Archer took the moment to pull out his secure line and dial Reyna.

She picked up on the first ring. “Tell me you’ve got eyes on her place.”

“I do,” Reyna said. “No signs of anyone yet, but that message? It means someone’s been watching.”

Archer clenched his jaw. “I want a full security sweep of the block. Check for cameras, blind spots, anything Molina’s men could be using to track her movements.”

“Already on it,” Reyna confirmed. “But you should know—Cerberus just flagged something else. King called me directly.”

Archer’s gut tightened. “What is it?”

Reyna hesitated. “Molina might be using Club Southside.”

His entire body went still.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Reyna let out a slow breath. “We intercepted a message in one of the encrypted channels used by the Master’s Market recruiters. Someone inside the club has been feeding them names. Specifically, submissives who fit their preferred profile.”

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