Page 45 of The Sniper

As the door closed, Reyna ran a hand through her hair. “We’ve got her.”

Daniels turned to her, his expression hard. “Not yet. But we will.”

He reached for her hand, squeezing it once. Then they moved, getting fully dressed because the hunt wasn’t over. Not yet.

The Cerberus war room was alive with the hum of computer monitors, the low murmur of voices, and the steady click of Anton’s fingers flying across the keyboard. The room was bathed in dim blue light from the screens, casting shadows on Fitz, and Mitch as they stood around the table.

Daniels walked in with Reyna at his side, his body still wound tight from the interrupted night, but his focus laser sharp.

Anton didn’t bother with pleasantries. He turned the monitor toward them, showing a series of encrypted bank transactions. “This is where it gets interesting.”

Daniels narrowed his eyes, scanning the data.

“These are payouts from the auction,” Anton continued. “At first, we thought they were standard laundering routes—moving money between offshore accounts to keep it off the books. But then I cross-referenced it with the auction’s internal logs.” He clicked, pulling up another screen. “Every payment here is tied to a specific event. A shipment.”

Reyna’s breath hitched. “Trafficked victims.”

Anton nodded grimly. “Exactly. The killer wasn’t just hunting people connected to the auction—she was tracking payments. Someone on the inside was keeping records, documenting who was profiting the most. That someone is now our best lead.”

Daniels crossed his arms. “Who is it?”

Anton’s fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up a name. The moment it appeared on the screen, a cold chill settled in the room.

Jonas Hartley

Reyna let out a slow mutter. “That bastard.”

Daniels’ mind raced. Hartley had been a high-ranking member of the BDSM community, but he had always played the discreet middleman. If he’d been involved in the auction, it meant one of two things—he was either a buyer or a broker.

Mitch rubbed a hand down his face. “So, what? Our guy’s been making money on the side, and now Artemis is tying up loose ends?”

“Not just tying up loose ends,” Anton corrected. “She’s making a statement.”

Daniels clenched his jaw. “Where’s Hartley now?”

“I’ll get someone on him,” Fitz said. “He’s not going anywhere without us knowing about it.”

Daniels turned to Reyna. “We need to move on this. If Artemis knows Hartley is in our sights, she’s going to come for him.”

Reyna nodded, her eyes dark with determination. “Then let’s make sure she walks right into our trap.”

Daniels’ lips curled into something dangerous.

They weren’t just playing defense anymore.

Now, they were hunting.

REYNA

The air inside the war room was thick with the scent of burnt coffee and something far more acrid—frustration. The walls were lined with monitors displaying encrypted files, financial records, and an ominous web of connections that led from the underground auction straight to Veda, Titan, and Rowe. The glow of the screens painted sharp shadows across the faces of those gathered around the sleek steel table.

Anton sat in front of a laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as he pulled up a new set of data. His usual relaxed demeanor had been replaced by something harder, something that made Reyna take a step closer, instinct kicking in.

Daniels stood to her right, arms crossed over his broad chest, his presence a steady force beside her. Across from them, Mitch leaned against the wall, his sharp gaze locked onto Anton, his arms also crossed but with the kind of pent-up energy that made Reyna wary.

Anton let out a low whistle as another line of data scrolled across the screen. "You’re gonna want to sit down for this."

Daniels didn’t move. "I’ll stand."

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