Page 20 of Wicked and Bound

She closed her eyes against sudden tears, refusing to show weakness. She had to stay strong. Had to keep watching. Had to find a way out.

But as Amy’s cries echoed through the walls, hope felt as flimsy as the lingerie they’d forced her to wear.

Nash gripped the yacht’s railing, watching the private island grow larger against the Caribbean horizon. A week since the abduction. A week of not knowing what Haisley was enduring. A week of her being out of her mind with fear. His knuckles whitened.

Behind him, Ethan and Kane hovered nearby in designer suits that probably cost more than most people made in a month. They all looked the part: wealthy degenerates with expensive watches, the latest phones, and not a moral compass among them.

Studying the approaching compound through Cartier sunglasses, Nash’s mind raced. An operation this sophisticated required serious backing. The island alone must have cost millions. Then the facilities, the staff, the bribes to keep it all quiet… He and the EM Security team had been so busy trying to figure out how to save Haisley and as many others as they could, they hadn’t tackled the one question that niggled at his brain now: Who had that kind of money and influence? Who had enough power to make people look the other way? Who the hell was behind this special corner of hell?

He’d find out. And after he rescued Haisley, he’d burn their whole empire to the ground.

His gut twisted. How would she react when she realized he was JasperThePrivateDick from Crime Solvers International? He’d chatted with her online and encouraged her amateur sleuthing. She had no idea her online friend and the man she’d once walked away from were one and the same. Would she see his deception as betrayal or understand he’d been trying to find a way back into her heart? How could he explain any of itwith cameras everywhere? And how the hell was he supposed to ensure that she didn’t give away his cover before he could clue her in on their plan?

The yacht docked at a pristine pier. Armed guards in tactical gear stood at attention, their weapons prominently displayed. Surveillance cameras hung from trees. The place looked like a sumptuous resort…but the vibe was top-security military installation. Nash cataloged their positions and patrol patterns, storing the information for later. Beside him, Ethan and Kane appeared to be doing the same.

Ethan stretched languorously, then clapped him on the back. “Time to see what ten mil buys these days, eh, Jasper?”

“Better be worth every penny.” Nash forced a predatory grin he didn’t feel while sending both of them a weighty stare.

Be careful. They’re probably listening already.

“The amenities alone…” Kane—now in his role as Keith—adjusted his Rolex, but Nash saw the answering steel in Kane’s eyes. “Did you see the list of available equipment? Makes my private dungeon look amateur. Can’t wait to test it out. Fuck, I should have bought a new toy, like you two.”

Ethan play-punched him in the gut, but his stare burned. “I’m sure they have loaners for losers like you.”

“Enjoy the sloppy seconds.” Nash’s laugh held an edge.

“Speaking of which…” Ethan smirked. “My purchase better be properly prepared. You know I’m particular.”

“Aren’t we all?" Nash elbowed Ethan as he watched the guards on the pier. “That’s why we’re here. Special merchandise for special buyers.”

“To new adventures.” Kane raised his champagne flute. “And getting exactly what you paid for.”

As the gangplank lowered, a sleek woman in white approached. “Welcome to the Velvet Cove. I’m Ms. Winters, your guest services director. Your luggage will be delivereddirectly to your suites. Please, follow me, and I’ll give you the guided tour so you can start enjoying your stay with us.”

Wordlessly, he and his fellow operatives nodded. They wound through the compound—a maze of corridors and checkpoints. Nash memorized each turn, each security camera, each keypad, noting the concrete walls beneath luxury finishes and the bulletproof windows.

A guard blocked their path, hands on his weapon. “ID check.”

Ms. Winters frowned. “This is our newest premium member and his associates. They’ve been vetted.”

“Still need ID.” The guard’s hand rested on his weapon. The other pointed to a window at the top of the gleaming white multistory resort. “I’ve got orders.”

As if he didn’t have a care in the world, Nash produced the documentation Stone and Trees had created. His pulse quickened as the guard scrutinized it. After tense seconds, the man finally nodded.

They passed through ornate double doors into what looked like a giant theater—one he recognized from the auction. A massive four-poster bed now dominated the stage, black silk sheets and heavy restraints a promise of what was to come. Around it stood equipment shrouded in black—implements of torture masquerading as pleasure and a warning to any who might resist.

Nash’s blood ran cold.

Nearby, a cabinet filled with crops, whips, floggers, canes, paddles, and clamps… The choices seemed endless. He liked good—consensual—impact play. But the implications of this forced discipline, rather than the funishment he enjoyed, turned his stomach.

“Our Midnight Sanctuary. It’s something, isn’t it?” Ms. Winters shot them a practiced smile. “You’ll gather here tonight. Tonight’s claiming ceremony will be…unforgettable.”

Nash forced a smirk past his revulsion. “Looking forward to it.”

Ms. Winters led them away. More corridors. More security. More surveillance. How the fuck would they ever rescue these victims and get out undetected?

Finally, they headed down a quiet, more private hallway—an upscale guest wing as evidenced by the thick, ornate carpet and the elaborate sconces. Their icy guide stopped at a pair of doors across from one another and waved Ethan and Kane to their rooms.