Page 34 of No Mistakes
I step into the living room carefully, while I try and juggle a fresh coffee pot in one hand and my phone in the other
“Brought reinforcements,” I say, lifting the coffee like a peace offering. Flynn grunts his approval while Gunnar practically lunges for a refill. Ant doesn’t look up, but his hand blindly reaches for the cup I set beside him, his fingers grazing mine in a blink-fast touch that sends a flicker of heat up my spine.
Goddamn. Why doesthatfeel like foreplay?
I turn to Eva, who’s curled up on the corner of the sofa, wide-eyed and clearly still trying to process everything Axel dumped on her in the last few hours.
“I called Rob,” I say gently. “He wasn’t too pleased that I called him so early, but I told him we need at least a week away from the office to work on a lead. He didn’t argue.” I pause,giving her a look. “I think he knows something’s off, even if he won’t say it.”
Eva nods, lips pressed tight. She hasn’t said much since the Ashford brothers informed us of their little interrogation meeting, and to be honest, I can’t blame her.
I glance back towards the table to see Ant’s shoulders tense slightly before I hear a click. The kind that means whatever he’s been digging through just gave him exactly what he was looking for. He sits back slowly, gaze fixed on the screen, and everyone stops talking.
“You got something?” Axel asks, moving to stand behind him. Ant nods, tapping the spacebar.
The monitor floods with new images, new folders, spreadsheets, and so much more.
I step closer, the glow of the screen painting Ant’s face in shadow and light. A folder catches my eye as it sits by itself in the middle of the screen.
‘Las Vegas Buyers Meeting’
“Is that-” I start, pointing toward it over Ant’s shoulder, my voice rasping out before I can finish. The folder name alone makes my skin crawl.
The moment the brothers explained the exchange of women happening across Chicago, something inside of me cracked. But this? Ameeting. An actual scheduledeventfor it? That’s a different kind of evil.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for hearing about what happens behind those closed doors. What people do to the girls, the way you’re moved, priced, sold.
Ant clicks the folder open, and an avalanche of photos appears, taking over the screen. Girls of all ages, some bruised, vacant-eyed… all of them dehumanised in one way or another. Every single photo stares back at us from a grainy surveillance and my stomach clenches.
He clicks something else, and a spreadsheet appears, replacing the images. Rows and columns laid out like a fucking shopping list.
Age. Origin. Condition. Obedience rating.
Price.
The fuckingprice.
I grip the back of Ant’s chair to steady myself, my other hand tightening around the now lukewarm coffee mug I forgot I was holding.
“Jesus,” I whisper.
Names blur together with the numbers until I spot something else. A document titledLV-CONFIRMED-VIP.XLSXsits near the bottom of the file tree. Ant opens it without hesitation, and there it is.
Meeting Location: Bellagio, Las Vegas
Date: December 21st
Time: 11:00 PM
My mouth goes dry as I check today’s date to see it’s now December 15th. “That’s in less than a week,” I whisper, stepping closer to keep my eyes locked on the screen.
Axel walks towards the whiteboard, adding the time and date to the ever-growing list of information. “We’ll handle it.”
I turn, slowly placing the mug down on the table before it shatters in my grip. “We?” My voice comes out calm. “Wewill handle it?”
Axel narrows his eyes. “You’re not going to that meeting, Mandy.”
I take a step forward. “Like hell I’m not.”
