Page 45 of Sinful
Behind her, two younger women.
One dark-haired, built lean and hard, with eyes that assess the room automatically.
The other?—
Blonde curls. Deep brown eyes. Racing leathers replaced by jeans and a tank top, but I'd know her anywhere.
Hell.
My hand tightens on my coffee cup.
What thefuckis she doing here?
"Everyone, this is Starla," Runes says, gesturing to the older woman. "Ivar's ol' lady. And these are his daughters—Elfe and Helle."
Daughters.
The word hits like a fist to the gut.
Hell—Helle—is Ivar's daughter.
Raiders of Valhalla royalty.
The Road Captain's youngest.
And I fucked her in the alley and in my room last night while she made sounds that?—
Stop. Focus.
Helle won't look at me.
She's staring at the table, at the wall, anywhere but where I'm sitting.
Her jaw is tight, hands clenched at her sides.
She knows this is bad.
Knows exactly how complicated this just got.
"Helle's here because she has information that might help us," Runes continues. "A few years back, she dated a Los Coyotes prospect. Andrés Medina."
Everything clicks into place.
The guilt in her eyes.
The way she said "you have no idea" when I called her trouble.
The dead look that matches mine.
She didn't just date a cartel member.
She was the leak.
The one who unknowingly fed information to Los Coyotes that nearly destroyed her family.
No wonder she ran. No wonder she's been hiding in Texas under a fake name, racing bikes like she's got a death wish.
"Los Coyotes took Ivar because they believe he killed Andrés," Fenrir says, taking over the briefing. "Retaliation for the intel gathering operation. They want justice—someone to pay for their dead prospect. Until they get it, they'll keep torturing Ivar. Keep sending us threats."
