Page 95 of Redemption

Lenora let her lipstick-lined lips loosen with a calculated sigh.

“Come on and cut the doing-this-for-me bullshit.” All the showmanship was fine for the courtroom, but Victoria wanted to get back home to Ryder. “I don’t have all day for theatrics.”

The expertly crafted smile curled. “Maybe a line has been crossed too close to my community. Even Mayhem has a line as to what they’ll turn a blind eye to.”

Victoria raised an eyebrow. “Spit it out.”

“Vashchenko is running gunsincountry, and whispers have it that he’s running girlsout.”

Victoria’s eyebrows dropped as Lenora’s words tumbled through her mind. Why would the Russians be snatching girls? “Vashchenko has a partnership with who?”

Lenora shook her head.

“What have you heard?” Victoria’s voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned forward, terrified to ask and needing to know. “You can’t say that and not keep going.”

“I heard one of their billionaire financiers took a hit. They’re co-opting investments, specifically to bring in American women, and they’re accepting partial down payments in some kind of partnership with a weapons dealer for large purchases.”

“What kind of down payment?” But Victoria knew what was coming, knew who was hit and had the means to co-opt with weapons dealers for investment purposes. If Lenora said women, that was all the confirmation needed.

“In the form of viable, sellable pussy.”

Ivan Mikhailov was going back into the human trafficking business? Nausea hit as the floor seemed to bottom out. She swallowed away the urge to vomit, flattening her feet to the ground as though that might right her world.

“Damn it,” Victoria growled, angry, shocked, and sick all at once.

“With that kind of reaction, we’re on the same page of thinking who,” Lenora confirmed. “Take a sip of water.”

She grabbed the bottle then gulped the cool water until her mind slowed. When she replaced the cap, Victoria mumbled, “That bastard.”

“His time will come.”

“For the two who took me too,” Victoria promised.

“I think their time is coming, regardless.” The attorney shook her head. “Major problems between the Russians and the MC lately. Might take care of itself.”

“I’d like the chance first, if you could mention it to your clients.”

Lenora rolled the cup of coffee between her hands. “That’s a serious ask.”

“I’m not asking for anything other than they don’t kill anyone in the next few days.” Victoria didn’t know why or how it mattered. She didn’t have a plan; she wasn’t going to go kick someone’s ass. “Seems that shouldn’t be too big an ask, but what do I know.”

“When it comes to Mayhem?” Lenora drew the question out oddly, almost dreamily. “Not much.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

With the morning sun now high overhead and at her back, Victoria walked into her house, still numb, and tried to fake any emotion that wasn’t a mix of confusion, dread, and disgust. The floorboards still creaked where they should. Her walls were still painted the same light lemon yellow, and the house still smelled like bacon and coffee.

Everything, old and new, was the same, except the basic understanding that Ivan Mikhailov was back up and running, and Vashchenko was likely sending American girls to the same fate she’d endured. The hatred and heartache made her sick. Yet, somehow, walking back to Ryder, she had to keep it together and act as though everything was hunky-freaking-dory. If she told him, he’d say back off.

Hell, if she told him, he’d ask what she wanted to do about Ivan or Vashchenko, and the answer was, she didn’t know—but something, anything that meant saving even one or two girls from the hell she’d endured.

Victoria numbly walked into her living room, and the picture-perfect version of what she’d always hoped for in life but didn’t know she wanted until that moment was spread before her. Ryder was kicked back on her couch, reading a book. There was a blanket still folded the way Seven had the last time her best friend had been there, and her house smelled like breakfast and the world’s best coffee.Thiswas what she wanted.Hewas what she wanted. Needed.

“Hey, how was the errand?” he asked casually, laid a bookmark on a page, and placed the book on the coffee table.

God, she lied to him to protect herself, andthem… It was selfish, and she wasn’t sure if she could manage words. Even if she could, Victoria wasn’t sure how they would come out. Nothing about how his visit to Sweet Hills had been the way he probably hoped. She’d pulled a gun on him and left him alone with her stash of mysteries and romance novels.

“You okay, love?”

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