Page 36 of Rusty's Command

“Fuck!” The word escaped through his clenched teeth. These weren’t just local predators. They were feeding this nightmare to buyers worldwide, hiding behind screens and proxies while they destroyed young lives.

The sheer scale of the operation threatened to crush his lungs. Rusty had to take down every single one of these monsters and dismantle the entire network. And that meant gathering evidence and tracing digital footprints as well as piling up bodies.

I’m going to follow each thread, no matter how thin until I’ve unraveled the entire web of deceit and corruption.

Below, the handler’s voice barked out another command, and the women lined up like cattle. Each one was forced to step forward, turn, and retreat, a grotesque parody of a fashion show that made Rusty’s stomach churn with rage.

“I need to find their server room.” Sienna’s voice cut through his fury, her tone low and even but laced with a controlled fury that matched his own.

Rusty snapped his gaze to her. “What?”

“These streams would run through dedicated servers,” Sienna whispered with her eyes locked on the horrors below. “If I can access their network, I can inject a kill code that’ll not only shut down their feed but corrupt their entire system. We can take them down from the inside out.”

Rusty’s mind raced, trying to catch up. “You can do that?”

The fierce certainty in her eyes sparked a ray of hope. “I’m the lead cybersecurity analyst for three major banks. These bastards think throwing money at fancy equipment makes them untouchable.” Her lip curled in disgust, and his gaze caught on the fierce curve of her mouth. “They probably have military-grade encryption on their video feeds, but their internal network security is likely pathetic. They’re so focused on hiding their filthy videos that they leave their core system wide open. Andthey never expect anyone to get this close. Give me five minutes with their system, and I’ll destroy that live feed and capture every dirty transaction they’ve ever made.”

Heat bloomed in his chest, spreading lower. Christ, she was magnificent—brilliant and deadly, her eyes flashing with controlled rage. While he’d been thinking with his trigger finger, she found a way to truly fuck with them.

The raw intensity radiating from her drew him like a magnet. Before he thought twice about it, he grabbed her cheeks and crushed his lips to hers in a kiss that was hard, fast, and unapologetic.

As he pulled back, his eyes locked onto hers. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

The surprise in her expression triggered a heat inside him that made his cock throb as a smile twinged at her mouth and danced up to her stunning eyes.

“Let’s FUBAR these sick bastards.” Peering over the railing again, he studied the layout below, mapping routes and searching for any other fuckers with semi-automatic weapons hiding in those damn shadows.

On the far side of the circular balcony, an elevator and a second sweeping marble staircase led down to the staged area. His eyes narrowed as he spotted an orange glow below, next to one of the six marble columns supporting the balcony. A cigarette.

Got you, you sick bastard. Where are the rest of your asshole friends?

He eased higher, desperate to maintain his cover, and scanned another section between two more columns.

Three more guards. Fuck.

I hope like hell we don’t need to get down there to kill this operation.

Rusty lowered himself to Sienna’s side. “Any idea where the server room could be?”

“Close to those monitors,” she replied with confidence. “They’ll want minimal latency for the streams.”

Rusty’s gut dropped. That was not what he wanted to hear. Getting down there via the stairs would be suicidal, leaving them wide open and with zero cover. They might as well paint targets on their backs. The elevator was an even worse option—a metal coffin with no escape route.

“We need to move before the private auctions start,” Sienna whispered, her eyes locked on the monitors.

Rusty nodded, his mind racing through scenarios, each one ending in a hail of bullets or a bloodbath. He cursed under his breath as he checked the gun he’d taken from the thug in the tunnel. A paltry three more rounds.

Sienna’s gaze searched his face. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m working on it,” he muttered. Scanning below, he studied the layout of the stage and surrounding areas, searching for a way to take out the guards without putting Sienna or the women in harm’s way. He was a skilled marksman, and Soda was just as lethal, but in a firefight, innocent lives were always at risk. The thought of those traumatized women getting caught in the crossfire was a nightmare he couldn’t shake.

“Take your tops off!” The handler’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. A collective fear-laced gasp rose up to them from the young women.

Rage blazed through Rusty he locked his gaze onto the handler’s face, committing every detail to memory—the cruel curve of his lips, the glint of sadistic pleasure in his eyes, the jagged scar above his left eyebrow. When he got his chance, Rusty was going to make the bastard pay for every ounce of fear and humiliation he inflicted on these women. He was going to make him beg for mercy . . . which he had no intention of giving.

“Now!” The handler’s booming voice echoed off the walls as he took a step closer to the victims. On stage, the women trembled, and their hands shook as they fumbled with the tiny clips and straps that held their tops in place.

“Face the front.” The handler’s eyes crawled over the women like a predator savoring its next victim.

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