Page 78 of Wicked Fortune

Hot tears stream down my cheeks. “Matthew, don’t toy with me. Please. I want to believe there’s nothing bad going on, but⁠—”

“Oh, there’s bad shit going on. But it’s going on despite me, not because of me. And you deciding to play detective on the night that I’d arranged to finally take Elias Trent down … well, I won’t say you gummed up the works. But I will say you’ve made things a hell of a lot more interesting.”

The words are harsh, but he squeezes my hand, a tiny smile touching his lips.

“I’d apologize,” I say. “But since I still don’t know what’s going on, I think maybe I want to wait on that.”

He chuckles. “Fair enough,” he says, as the limo reaches the end of the alley. The glass between us and the driver lowers, and I can see more clearly through the front windshield.

Ryan Hunter is there, standing with six other men, all wearing dark clothes. Another man stands with them, his hands behind his back. Cuffed, I realize when he turns and takes a step toward the limo before being yanked back by one of the men in black.

“That’s my cue,” Joel says, then slides out of the limo, leaving the door wide open.

I look between the sight in front of us and Matthew. “I’m sorry,” I say. I’m not even sure what I’m apologizing for, but I know enough to recognize the man in cuffs. Because even though I’ve only seen his photo once in a company newsletter, I’m one-hundred percent confident that he’s Elias Trent.

“Stark Security took him down?” I ask.

Matthew nods. “With some help from Homeland Security and the FBI,” he adds, pointing to a few of the men in the group.

“So I was right? Jenny got caught up in a trafficking scheme?”

“I’m afraid so.” His words are heavy, and though he takes my hand, he doesn’t quite meet my eyes. “I’m so sorry. We’re still trying to work out all the details, but from what we know, she made the mistake of going to Trent with her concerns.”

“And then she realized her mistake,” I say, with sudden clarity. I grab my phone from my back pocket, then find the photo of the letter. “I should have unscrambled it sooner,” I say, showing the image to Matthew. “I am these torn lines,” I read. “It’s an anagram for Elias Trent, with just a few extra letters.” I look up at him. “I think she was in a hurry to mail this to me. And I figured out the last part about driving, too,” I begin, but Matthew’s already got it.

“Trafficking.” He exhales. “Damn, I wish she’d come to me.”

I blink back tears. “Maybe she was going to. Maybe that’s why he got her. He must have forced her to the bridge. Jenny was smart. She wouldn’t have just gotten in a car with him.”

“I never met her personally,” Matthew says, his own eyes misty. “I never met any of the women they got their claws into.” He squeezes my hand. “You’ll have to tell me about her. We’ll have to learn what we can about all of them. They deserve to be seen.”

“How long have you known?”

He shakes his head. “Not long enough. Trent was smart. He used the Hardline meet-and-greets, but that’s all. Everything else was done through shell companies he created with an overseas group. The women thought they were going over for Hardline. But they weren’t.”

He drags his fingers through his hair. “I got wind of it about two months ago, then pulled Ryan in. He’s coordinated with teams in Europe. With luck, we’ll rescue most of the women who got filtered through the meet-and-greets. And any other women who got caught in those bastards’ nets.”

I hear the fury in his voice and nod, my throat too clogged with tears to speak.

“You poked your nose in a little too close. I was afraid Elias or his people were going to notice you.”

“I think he did. Matthew,” I say urgently, “I think there may be more of his team inside. Someone sent me this.” I show him the text from my yearbook with the warning.

“Ah, yeah.” He clears his throat. “Actually, that was me.”

“You?” I gape at him. “What the hell?”

“I found out you were coming, and I thought it would scare you off. Send you running back home. I didn’t want you here, Ari.” His voice is hard. Stern. “Don’t you get it? If Elias or one of his flunkies got their mitts on you, this operation would be all over. They’d be out of this country in a heartbeat, and the odds of us recapturing them would slip down to nil.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’d let them go,” he says, his voice as gentle as a caress. “If that was the price to get you back and keep you safe, I’d accept whatever conditions they named.”

“Matthew.” I search for more words, but find none.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time, Ari. I won’t risk losing you now.”

“Oh.” It’s the only word I can get out past my tears. He bends forward and gently kisses me. “I love you, Ariadne Parker.”