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Zé holds out his screen for me. A message from Xavier. “Carlos, Sabio, and Giana are on Ms. Clarke. There should be nothing to worry about.”
Nothing to worry about. Right. Despite the security precautions, it’s possible those bastards sneaked in something that the metal detectors can’t pick up. Or worse, they might have someone on the inside who stashed weapons for them—or explosives. Our employees and contractors are thoroughly vetted, but all it takes is one lapse for things to go south.
The list of unknowns has me on edge as I wait for them to enter the club. For Lexie to enter the club.
We watch the feed as they hand over their belongings to the coat check downstairs. Nothing they’ve done, so far, would raise any suspicion. Just a group of friends out for a good time. Fuckers.
Finally, the two Czech males accompany the three women onto the club floor. My blood simmers as they sidle up to a high-top table near the back bar.
Why Sirena? They’ve been all over the European Union and the UK, but they generally stay away from places like Sirena, where the clientele is monied and the security tight. Either they’ve changed course and are going after wealthy marks, or this is a one-off, which means we’re being specifically targeted. But why?
The men casually scope out the scene, while a waitress takes drink orders.
They’re pros. But it doesn’t matter how proficient they are at subterfuge, because it’s unlikely that they’re anything more than foot soldiers. They work for someone—and men who trade in human flesh are capable of anything. Including blowing up a club filled with innocent people—and a gorgeous blonde.
My grip on the rail tightens as I survey the sea of unsuspecting partiers. If we had more time to plan, every person in this room would be a trained guard. There would be no innocents. But time is our enemy tonight.
“Rafa,” Zé nudges quietly from beside me. “You need to get out of here before they notice us up here.”
“You think I’m going to leave Alexis in the middle of a shitstorm while I hide in my office?” I glower at him, and he’s lucky that’s all he gets.
“If Alexis sees you, she might unknowingly tip her hand and blow up the whole operation. All she has to do is wave, and it could spook them. You need to watch this go down from the command center.”
He’s right. Goddamn it. Clever angles and lighting obscure the VIP section from the club floor. People lay out a lot of cash for the privacy. But it’s not entirely blacked out. Even if the traffickers aren’t concerned about the shadowy figures, Alexis will likely be curious. She’s always curious. And she’ll wonder if I’m up here.
“Let’s go.” I drop the tumbler on the table, never looking back at the crowd below.
3
RAFAEL
Sirena’s command center is modeled after those found in casinos. Security personnel scour the floor for any sign of drug use, sexual assault, or other unacceptable behavior. Some scan the club through two-way mirrors, while others study live feeds. They act first and ask questions later. Consequently, Sirena is a safe club, even for women who come here alone.
After we arrive, I go directly to Xavier, who’s at the glass, his suit jacket discarded and his sleeves rolled up the moment he learned there was trouble. “Have you identified the woman?”
“Francesca Russo, seventeen.”
I hope to hell that name is nothing more than a coincidence. “Please tell me that she isn’t related to Bruno Russo.”
“Her father,” he grits out through a clenched jaw. “She’s on holiday, traveling alone, as far as we can tell.”
The seventeen-year-old daughter of the Italian prime minister. Just what I need. Christ. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
He shakes his head. “I wish. Just adds another layer of complexity. We’re trying to figure out why she doesn’t have security with her.”
What the hell is she doing traveling alone? I’ve met her father. There’s no way he allowed his principessa to traipse around without bodyguards. I pound the edge of my fist against the wall. “Whatever the reason, it’s not good.”
“Do you have any idea why Ms. Clarke would be with these bastards or why she’s without security?” Xavier asks cautiously.
Not a fucking clue why she’s with them, but I guarantee she ditched her guards.
“No. But I assure you it’s the first question I’m going to ask her.” Right after, What the hell were you thinking?
“You’re absolutely sure it’s them?” I ask Xavier, jerking my head toward the two-way glass. I know he’s going to confirm what Zé has already told me, but I need to hear it again. This is as close as anyone has gotten to the ring, and I’m eager for the opportunity to question them. More than eager. But with Lexie involved, a part of me wants us to be mistaken.
“Take a look for yourself.” Xavier hands me several photos and a sheet of paper from a file Interpol sent.
“I can’t believe they had the balls to bring their filthy enterprise here.” Xavier shakes his head, disgusted. “We’ve been on the lookout, but I never expected them to actually show up. Not at a club like Sirena.”
