Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“Trees!”
His brother’s massive frame appeared in the kitchen doorway, phone pressed to his ear. “He just got here. Yeah, I’ll call you back.” His brother hung up, his expression grim. “Hunter filled me in on the latest.”
“You found something else on the burner phone?” He fucking hoped so. He’d followed every clue he’d had, and every one of them had turned into a dead end. He needed good news, and he needed it fast.
“Yeah. Sit down, and we’ll—”
“I don’t have time to chat. Give me something that will help me figure out where these assholes took Haisley.”
“Keep it together.” Trees crossed his arms over his wide chest. Since they both stood around six-foot-seven, his brother was one of the few men who could go toe-to-toe with Nash. “You’re no good to Haisley if you’re losing your shit.”
Nash opened his mouth to argue, but Laila emerged from the kitchen, worry etched on her delicate features. “Please. He only wants to help. We both do.”
The tight band around Nash’s chest loosened a fraction. After surviving a cartel, his sister-in-law understood better than most what Haisley might be facing. And his brother… Five years ago, Trees had been barely more than a stranger. Now he was the one person Nash trusted most to have his back.
“All right.” He sighed. “Talk to me.”
Trees led him down the hall to his home office and settled into a chair while Laila perched on its arm, her small hand on her husband’s beefy shoulder. “I started digging deeper into Benedict’s phone. There were hidden directories, encrypted folders I hadn’t cracked yet.”
Nash’s hands curled into fists as he settled on the nearby sofa. “And?”
“I found something.” Trees shared a grim look with his wife. “Something that explains why Benedict and his wife ended up dead. Why the janitor had to be eliminated. Why they grabbed Haisley when they did. It confirms everything we’ve feared.”
The quiet certainty in his brother’s voice made Nash’s blood run cold. “Tell me.”
His brother nodded grimly, then gestured to his desk. “That encrypted section of Benedict’s burner phone? It wasn’t just call logs and texts. The bastard had an app. Custom-built, highly secure. I managed to get temporary access. I routed my query through about twelve proxy servers. We can view the site. They can’t trace it back to us.” Trees’s multiple monitors displayed scrolling code, each screen running different algorithms to mask their digital footprint. “Their security is military grade. Biometric verification. Quantum encryption. The kind of setup that costs millions. I had to write custom programs just to crack the first layer.” He gestured to a black box humming beside his laptop. “Had to build my own processor to handle the decryption. These people have serious backing.”
“And?”
“It’s a fucking marketplace. High-end merchandise, they call it. But they’re not selling rugs.”
“I know,” Nash choked. “Haisley and I caught a glimpse last night.”
Trees leaned forward, his massive frame taut with tension. “Then you know where I’m going with this. New ‘acquisitions’ are usually listed within twelve hours.” Trees’s voice gentled, as if softening a blow. “Like I said, it took me a while to hack in past multiple layers of security, and I’ve been monitoring the site since I got in.” Trees’s jaw clenched. “But once I did…”
“Haisley?” Her name caught in his throat.
Nash’s heart stuttered. No. God, no.
Trees nodded grimly. “Sorry.”
The implication hit him like a physical blow. It took everything inside him not to fall apart. “Show me.”
As Trees logged in, Nash’s hands curled into fists. On the screen, ornate rugs filled the homepage, each with a staggering price tag—enough to buy a lavish house.
“Here.” Trees clicked a nondescript link labeled Custom Orders. A password prompt appeared.
“Damn it—”
“Already got it from Benedict’s phone.” Trees typed rapidly. “This view is more…explicit. So you need to prepare yourself.”
“Let me see.” The screen filled with photos. Women. Girls. Each with a description that made Nash’s stomach turn. Multiple pictures. Multiple poses. All naked. All degrading. All disgusting.
“I searched for new listings in the past hour and…” Trees applied the filter. Three results appeared—one that nearly killed him.
Nash’s heart stopped. “Click on her.”
Trees did. Nash’s vision tunneled, the room tilting sideways as bile rose in his throat.
Against a nondescript white wall, there she stood under the clinical lighting. Haisley’s face was tear-streaked but defiant, despite the fear shadowing her eyes. Every detail branded itself into his brain.
The listing beneath suggested a retail value that made his blood run cold.
“I’ll kill them.” The words came out in a growl. “Every last one of these sons of bitches. They’re dead.”
“We’ll help.” Trees gripped his shoulder. “But first we need a plan. Look.” He pointed to a string of numbers and letters below Haisley’s photo. “Auction details. They’re not even trying to hide their business model. They think they’re untouchable.”