“WE’RE LEAVING,” ELDER snapped as he guided me (slowly and doing his best not to limp) into the lounge. “Right now.”

Tess and Suzette looked up from the couch with Lino squished between them.

Selix and Franco mimicked each other with crossed arms and spread legs, glowering from their chosen corners of the room. The animosity from the two seconds-in-command ran rife and pungent, thickening the air with violence even as Lino giggled and blew saliva bubbles.

Elder tensed, taking in Selix’s wariness and Franco’s temper at having to share his domain.  

I held my breath as I focused more on the two silently fuming males rather than little Lino. The panic attack that’d struck with diabolical persistency left me weak, wobbly, and woefully unprepared to face yet another happy baby cooing moment.

The one blessing in the powder-keg of a room was Q had disappeared.

I hope he stays away until we’re gone.

Tess cleared her throat, standing from the couch. Ignoring Elder’s comment about leaving, she came toward me with shoulders down and hand out-stretched as if coaxing me not to run again.

I swallowed hard as her warm blue eyes hurt for me, apology bright on her face. “Pim, I need to say how sorry I am for—”

“Don’t.” Elder pulled me tighter against him. “I think you and your husband have done enough. Don’t you?”

She flinched, dropping her hand. “You’re right—”

“Don’t you dare talk to my mistress that way.” Franco stepped forward, his body bristling in his immaculate suit. “Disrespect her and you disrespect this house.” He balled his fists. “On second thought. Go right ahead. Insult her. Give me another reason to kick your ass.”

Selix growled, moving toward Elder and me, his breathing harsh and tight. “If anyone is kicking anyone’s ass, it’s me kicking yours.”

“Like fuck it—”

“Boys!” Suzette shouted. Leaping upright with Lino in her arms, she joined Tess in front of me. “No more fighting. There’s been enough of that nonsense already.”

Tess gave her a grateful look then glanced back at me. “I truly am sorry for overstepping. I know Q is, too.”

“It’s okay.” I nodded, hoping I could ease some of her concern. Like Elder, I was ready to leave. The sooner, the better. We’d overstayed our welcome, and we didn’t belong here. Nothing could have proven that better than babies and buildings rather than seagulls and sea.

Despite my need to leave, I didn’t want to be unkind. Tess had gone out of her way to befriend me. The least I could do was ease her mind that it wasn’t her fault I ran away like a freak. “You didn’t cause the panic attack. I’ve had them for a while. A by-product of Al—” I cut myself off. Never again would I utter that bastard’s name. Neither in my head nor out loud. He was dead to me. I was done invoking his hold over me every time I uttered it. “You understand.”

Tess clasped her hands together, fully aware what I meant and what I wouldn’t say. “I do understand, and it’s the truth when I say you’re incredibly strong and I’m in awe of everything you’ve overcome.” Leaning closer, doing her best to whisper so as to avoid Elder’s glare, she added, “If you ever want to talk about anything…the weather, movies, babies or anything else, please feel free to email or call. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I will. And thank you.”

We smiled again as Elder shifted angrily by my side. He held her accountable for my attack, but I didn’t. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t Q’s fault. It wasn’t even my fault. My mind had done such a great job at protecting and shielding me from topics I couldn’t bear to face that it still relied on such crutches. It would take time to slowly trust—to believe I was strong enough. I wouldn’t berate myself for not being perfect just yet.

I’d been drugged and kidnapped and originally hated this place and the people in it, but somehow, in a few short days, I’d come to truly care for them and found comfort I might not have found elsewhere. I still wanted to know Tess’s tale of captivity, but I would happily trade it to be back on the open ocean with Elder.

I was ready to be on our own again and hope to God that the Chinmoku didn’t find us for months or even years. By then, Elder would be in fighting form and his artillery on the Phantom would kill them before they even stepped foot on board.

What are the chances of that coming true? I had a terrible feeling it wouldn’t work that way.

But dreams…they were free, and I’d indulge for now. It was the cost of them becoming real that were sometimes too high.

A maid appeared behind us, hugging my torn red and blue ballgown. “Here. Better not forget this.”

Elder took it from her, tucking it under his arm, blanching a little as another dose of pain administered. “Thank you.”

I repeated his thanks, grateful to have it returned. I plucked the hoodie I wore, looking at Tess. “I can change. Give you these back before we leave.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be silly. They’re yours. Take them.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

I’d never been good with goodbyes—not that I’d had many experiences with them—but social niceties had been completed. Therefore, we were free to leave.

Aren’t we?

Elder stood brooding and itching to go beside me, Selix had already inched toward the exit, and there was nothing left to do but step out of their lives.

I sighed in relief and anxiety at what would become of us.

“You’ll say goodbye to Q for me?” I asked. “Tell him I’m sorry for running. It wasn’t him. It’s just a tender topic so soon after—”

“He’ll understand, Pim. He doesn’t deserve your apology.” Elder tucked me close, hugging me equally as hard as the ballgown under his other arm. “Thank you, Mrs Mercer, for allowing me to rest in safety.” He bowed a little, ever the gentleman even as his blood boiled. “I hope to never see you or your husband again.”

“Safe travels,” Tess said softly.

“Let’s go, Pimlico.” Elder turned toward the foyer, guiding me through the double doors and toward Selix who held open the front door. “Helicopter primed and ready to fly?”

Selix nodded, his black hair shiny under the warm lights above. “Mercer refuelled us from his own supply. It’s ready to go.”

“Shit.” Elder scowled. “That fool truly knows how to put his nose in places it’s not wanted.” He exhaled, full of annoyance. “Now I can’t fucking leave without paying him for the gas.”

Tess and Suzette followed us into the foyer. Tess peered upstairs as if she could see Q through the floors and found him doing something that pinked her cheeks with love. An adoring smile appeared then settled into a more professional one. “That’s okay. He doesn’t need your thanks. I’m sure I can say on his behalf that he’s sorry things went so far between you, and he promises he’ll listen more closely to the girl he’s rescuing next time.” She laughed. “No more shooting first and asking questions later.”

Elder nodded curtly. “Fine. I’ll send reimbursements online.” Limping forward, he sped up at the sight of open grass with its invitation to leave.

Stepping over the threshold, he cursed under his breath as his muscles rippled against mine.

I frowned, looking up to see if he’d strained himself or needed help getting to the helicopter, but he turned around, facing Tess once again.

Clearing his throat, he gruffed, “Even though I still want to kill him; even though I would happily wring his ugly French neck, I’m not vain enough not to recognise he did me a favour that night.”

I froze, gobsmacked that Elder could be so pragmatic even while he trembled with violence.

He bit out, “He shot me and took my woman, and for that I will never forgive him, but for killing my enemies and giving me another opportunity to protect Pimlico when I failed to do so, he will forever have my gratitude.” Spitting the last word as if it tasted horrendous, he faced the exit again. “Tell him that—”

“Tell me what?” A slightly cruel, slightly inquisitive French accent drifted down from the top of the stairs.

Elder spun me in a circle, facing Q as he climbed down the stairs smooth as water and polished as glass.

“Nothing.” Elder bared his teeth. “It was easier leaving the message with your wife than admitting it to your face.”

“Ah.” Q ran a hand over his jaw, yet another file tucked under his arm. “I’ll ask my beautiful wife to relay your message when we are alone then. Perhaps, I can give her my reply in a language she understands all too well.”

Tess blushed an elegant pink, moving to his side as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Almost unconsciously, Q’s entire body gravitated to her—not just his arm as it settled possessively around her waist but his every limb. All magnetized to the woman he’d chosen.

Elder huffed under his breath, bowing stiffly. “Goodbye, Mr. Mercer. I hope we never cross paths again.”

Q shook his head, waving the file in the air. “Your goodbye is premature, Mr. Prest. I am afraid you have nowhere to go. Not yet, at least.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Ignoring Elder’s question, Q let Tess go and closed the final distance between us, standing on the exact spot where the two men had tried to kill each other only a couple of days before.

Raising the file, he tapped it with his forefinger. “I’m talking about this.” Pulling out the first sheaf of pages, he passed them to me with a look that made my knees water and breath mist. Not from sexual potency—even though he swam in that—but in vicious violence I’d grown accustomed to seeing in Elder.

I blinked, glancing between the two men, understanding the animosity on a different level.

Q and Elder hated each other—no one could deny that. But it wasn’t purely about what’d happened on the Phantom or here. It was more than that. It was primal and probably not even noticed.

They’re too alike.

Two alpha wolves used to being top dog and not happy with a rival in their kingdom. Both prickly and hard to love. Both loyal and affectionate until the bitter end.

“Here.” Q urged me to take the papers, ignoring the warning glare from Elder. “This is for you.”

Hesitantly, I took the thick file, skim reading the header page: Dossier on Dismantling the Quarterly Market of Beauties.

My head shot up. “What is this?”

Q narrowed his eyes at Elder as if assessing him for a threat before talking to me.

His shoulders never relaxed, but he must’ve deemed it safe to continue when Elder didn’t throttle him. “I’ve been doing what I do for many years. In that time, I’ve been lucky enough to earn the trust and resources from local and international law enforcement. Thanks to them, I’ve been able to track down any mention of the QMB and the names of girls sold in recent years and bring each cocksucker who bought them to justice.”

His voice thickened with passion. “I told you the other night that you were the last one. I meant it. I’ve had a flag on the QMB in every police database around Europe, with a few other enforcers in Asia and South Pacific. I’d almost given up on you—especially when we came across a very gruesome scene at the home of the man who purchased you. Along with that discovery, we linked another man, Monty Nilsson, to a past sale through the QMB. I believe, thanks to evidence we found, that you knew him.”

Elder stiffened beside me, seething with fury.

My heart hid behind its ribs, flinching as sordid memories of just how well I knew Monty swelled. The fact that he wasn’t there to kill him when Elder exterminated Alrik, Tony, and Darryl was a sore that never healed.

Q wasn’t fazed by Elder’s rage or my stunned silence, carrying on in his cool, crisp voice. “He’s dead now, just like the rotting carcasses in that house. I doubt you’ll grieve, knowing he died a rather painful death for what he’d done to other women.”

He’s dead.

The one loose end from the bloodbath when Elder claimed me.

Lightness filled my chest. A freedom from things that still haunted me.

“I hope you made him pay.” Elder breathed hard.

“Oh, he paid.” Q smiled coldly. “Just like the others who bought slaves through the QMB. The in-house code to protect the identity of their buyers was useless, but it did take longer than normal to find you, Pim, due to your cut-off location. When we found the decaying bodies, I worried someone had killed them and taken you for themselves.”

He gave Elder a pointed look. “Their deaths didn’t stop me from hunting the potential new owner, though, even with no forwarding clues.”

“Did you report the deaths?” Elder growled. “Did you leave any evidence behind at that bastard’s place?”

Q scowled. “Who do you think I am? Some fucking amateur? We set it alight, corpses included. It’s secluded enough to burn to the ground. Your secrets are safe.” He smiled, teeth sharp. “Who killed them?” His face softened. “There was a lot of blood that didn’t belong to the dead. Was it yours?”

Elder couldn’t control his snarl. “He tried to sever her tongue. Another second and I would’ve been too late.” He squeezed me so hard it hurt. “He wanted to turn her mute.”

Q’s face matched the darkness on Elder’s. “In that case, I hope you made him suffer, not just for the things he’d done, but for all the things he was.”

Somehow, a comradery struck up between the men talking about death and vendettas. “He died along with his maggot friend, but it wasn’t a death they deserved.” Elder looked at me, his eyes black and twisted with memory. “Pim fainted from lack of blood. She was my first priority. My only priority.”

Q clenched his jaw, his eyes drifting to Tess with his own black memories. “I understand.”

Selix came forward, cutting into the graphic conversation. “This is all fascinating, but why exactly can’t we go home? What do you know that we don’t?”

Elder snapped back to the present. “True. Stop wasting time and spit it out.”

“When has information ever been a waste of time?” Q passed a single piece of paper to Elder but not before I caught a glimpse of the black and white image it depicted. “Information is power, as you well know. While you’ve been my guest, I’ve had someone watching your boat. He just sent me this.”

My stomach bottomed out, splattering to my toes.

Oh, no.

“Fuck,” Selix hissed.

“Shit.” Elder’s hand shook, holding the photo of his beloved Phantom with three Chinmoku scaling the sides and shadows of four more on the deck. His fingers dug into the glossy paper, entirely focused on his home. “How did they find us?”

Q licked his lips. “You obviously haven’t taken note of the pleasure spotters online.”

“The what?” Elder shot back. “What the hell do they have to do with me?”

“Everything.” Q pulled another piece of paper from his file—a website print-out called Spot the Special Elitist. “This is just one of the many recreational groups online that spend their days tracking the rich, famous, and their toys. Helicopters, private jets, holiday homes. And in your case, yachts.”

“What?” Elder speed-read the article where an unauthorised photo of the Phantom sat moored in a port I hadn’t been to before. “Holy fuck, that’s Calais.” He squinted at the time on the blog post. “This was three days ago when we docked.”

“They’re rampant little leeches who think they’re having harmless fun—tracking the itineraries of boats and schooners, but in reality, they’re a massive security problem.” Q took the page back, granting the information we needed to know in bullet form. “From what I can gather, they’ve been tracking the Phantom for years—just like they track every other super yacht around the world. They have check-ins and checkouts. They post when you have shipments of supplies and state how many days at sea you were before reaching a new port. It’s a game to them. A stupid, silly game that has spoon-fed your enemies your every move.”

Elder turned a furious red. “For fucking Christ.”

I didn’t want to be untrusting but just because Q had a photo showing the Chinmoku on board the Phantom didn’t mean they were still there. They could’ve investigated, found no one, and left. We could still be free to return and set sail immediately—disappear into open waters where none of these weekend boat watchers could track us.

Nudging Elder with my shoulder, I whispered, “We’ve been here for days. They might have left. We could still go—”

Q shook his head, tapping the corner of the page Elder still held. The one with Chinmoku infesting his pride and joy. “This was sent to me twenty minutes ago.”

“Twenty minutes? Fuck, my crew.” Elder spun to face Selix, uncaring of injuries. “No one has called. Do you think—”

As if Jolfer himself had been waiting for this exact time to ring—determined to cause the most dramatic entry as possible—Selix’s cell phone jumped into a jingle, demanding to be answered.