Page 140 of Filthy Royal

“This will only take a moment.”

A long pause. “What exactly will only take a moment?”

He hid a smile. Still curious; at least that was something that hadn’t changed. “I’m sending a message through my comms. I couldn’t do it before in the tunnel, but here I have a signal and the ability to cloak where it’s coming from.” He finished typing. “Done. I’ve notified my brothers about your friends. That shuttle will never make it to the brothel. It will be picked up, the guards dispatched, and the omegas rescued and resettled.”

Absolute silence.

He looked over to find an expression of pure shock—and wariness—on her gorgeous face.

That’s when he realized how badly he’d fucked up. Her expression said she hadn’t expected anything like that from him, and even now wasn’t sure what to make of it.

He used to be her hero. She used to look at him as if she never doubted that he’d take down every fighter he faced and conquer the galaxy for her.

Not anymore.

He knew exactly what he’d done to deserve that in the short time since they’d reconnected.

And how much he regretted it.

“They’ll be safe,” Damien assured her.

Her wary expression told him everything.

“It’s a done deal, Scarlett. Your friends will never reach that fucking brothel.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.” She nodded, blinking fast. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” For once, she didn’t try to hide what was in her eyes, and he saw it all: disbelief, relief, gratitude, and the lifting of a weight she never should’ve had to bear.

It made him want to hold her.

But she wasn’t looking at him as if she wanted to be held, and besides, they were up against the clock. “What’s next?”

Scarlett tore her gaze from his and pointed to a keypad at the far-right corner of the desk. “This is our next challenge.”

The keypad was the only discernible item on the desk. Small seams across the top and sides indicated drawers, but there was no obvious way to access them.

She nudged the cloak aside and studied the keypad. “Type in the passcode and the drawer openers slide out. The problem is that Darvish—or, more often, his assistant—uses three different eight-digit combinations. Luckily, he doesn’t change them often. I saw what it was last time I was here, but… there’s a chance he could have changed it since then.”

More complications. Fortunately, Damien knew exactly how to deal with this one.

He pointed his weapon at the keypad and flipped off the safety. “Stand back.”

“No.” She gripped his arm. “The desk is equipped with another fail-safe. Disrupt it by trying to go around the system, and it will only speed up the timetable, activating instant self-destruct mode.”

Fuck.Even this couldn’t be simple. Right now, he just wanted to break or shoot something.

“It’s the truth.” She blew out a breath. “Darvish’s assistant made sure I knew it every time I came up here.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s an Alphahole like his boss.” She hesitated. “And because he knew I wanted in that desk as bad as you do now.”

Damien stilled. “What does that mean?” That bad feeling in his gut worsened.

“It means,” she said at last, “he and Darvish are hiding something I want too.”

“What?”

“A vid. Or two.”

---