Page 94 of Take the Sub and Run

“Am I allowed to have my passport and travel?” She’d very carefully chosen those words, skimming the edge of the technical definitions used when referencing how human traffickers used documentation, primarily passports, to trap their victims.

“Of course,” her father said slowly. “But I’m afraid I have your passport here.”

“Can you overnight it to me?”

“When do you need it?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Sofie, this will be very expensive…”

“Do you not have money?”

You should have plenty of money. The fee for those “friends” you sent to my home, and the proceeds for whatever black market and private sales you’ve made.

“You know I took a vow of poverty,” he scolded. “But…yes. I can send it to you.”

Relief made her almost lightheaded. “Thank you.”

“Very good. I will see you soon, Daughter.”

Sofie had to tap the screen twice to end the call her fingers were shaking so badly. She’d never spoken to her father like that before, and she thought she was okay until she went to take a sip of tepid tea and ended up running to the bathroom to vomit.

After a long time spent on the bathroom floor dry heaving and another shower, she shuffled back to her phone. This call was far easier to make.

“Sofie?” Colette sighed in relief. “I’m so glad you called. I didn’t know if I should call you… How are you?”

“I will cry if I talk about it.”

“Crying is good.”

“I can’t cry anymore. I called to tell you I have your things.” She’d packed up Colette items since Colette herself hadn’t been back to Sofie’s place since the gala.

“Okay. How about I come into town tomorrow and we get lunch. We could go out, if that…feels safe?”

“I would like that.” When Colette had stayed with her, the most Sofie had been willing to do was to stop in at the coffee shop between her house and the market. She’d only told Colette that she preferred to cook at home, not that there were no restaurants on her very short list of places that were “safe.”

“I'm really glad to hear that.”

“I have a question too.” Sofie twisted the hem of her shirt between her fingers.

“What is it?”

“Do you have the address of the Club Alibi in London?”

Twenty

“I’ll take over for a bit. Take the rest of the night.”

Andrei looked at Mateus Carvalho, one brow raised.

Mateus was one of the only people who knew the full scope of the Club Alibi project and Rolf’s objective who wasn’t an Interpol agent. As an investigator for the international criminal court, he actually had more access and authority that Interpol agents did in many ways. He and Rolf had worked together, and knew each other well enough that Rolf knew the other man was a Dom, hence asking him to help monitor and control the club.

This was Andrei’s week, which meant being mostly sober and patrolling the public part of the club. The cutout in the center of the floor allowed the light and music from the dance club on the lower floor to flow and flash up into the dark, decadent space.

“I don’t want to scene, so I’ll stay,” Andrei said.

“I think you might want to.”

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