Guess it’s show time.
Because he did love a good game, Victor threw the dice once more. Only this time, he lost. While the group murmured sympathetically, Victor just smiled. “The house has the advantage.” But not for long.
The guard tapped his shoulder. “Sir, may I have a moment?”
Zoe stiffened next to him.
Once more, Victor caught her hand. He kissed her knuckles and gave her fingers a little squeeze. It’s okay, baby. I have this. You can trust me.
He wasn’t going to let her down. When he’d had Zoe in bed with him, safe in his arms, his mind had finally cleared and he’d realized what he needed to do.
Somehow, someway, he was going to keep her at his side. When the smoke cleared from this case, he wouldn’t lose her. He couldn’t. Zoe mattered. Simple fact.
Zoe. Mattered.
“Sir?” The guard pressed.
Victor glanced at him. “You guys have a rule here against losing?”
The guard’s expression was tense. “You’ve been invited to the VIP lounge.” His gaze cut to Zoe. “You and the lovely lady.”
“VIP, huh?” He curled his arm around Zoe’s waist and brought her in closer to him. Victor was wired with the smallest of devices, and he knew that both the FBI guys and Cain’s crew would be hearing every word uttered right then. “How can we pass up on an invitation like that one?”
The guard’s expression never changed. “You can’t.”
No, he hadn’t thought that they could.
The guard turned on his heel and marched toward the elevator bank on the right.
“Not very friendly, is he?” Zoe murmured.
“I don’t think friendliness is high on his priority list.” He didn’t hurry after the guy. Victor just took his time strolling casually through the crowd. Keeping Zoe close.
The guard didn’t go to the main line of elevators. He walked past them, then stopped at an elevator that was accessible only with a keycard. He swiped his card, and the doors opened. The guard motioned for Victor and Zoe to step inside.
The doors began to close.
Zoe’s hand flew out, triggering the sensors. “What happens in the VIP lounge?”
The guard—a guy who looked around twenty-five—gave a rough sigh. “Heaven.” What could have been sympathy flashed in his eyes. “Or hell.”
Zoe’s hand fell back to her side. The doors closed and the elevator began to ascend.
Victor turned her body fully into his arms, then he leaned in close, putting his mouth near her ear. He knew security cameras were in that elevator. Cameras and the hotel’s audio recording devices. So he made sure to keep his voice as the barest of whispers as he said, “Keep trusting me.”
Her fingers rose and squeezed his shoulders. “I will.”
Had any words ever been as fucking sweet? Especially since…hell, he was supposed to walk in there and act as if he were ready to sell her out. To trade her.
Two million dollars for Zoe Peters. That was the plan.
That wasn’t enough money. Not even close.
They went straight up to the penthouse level. The elevator doors opened with the softest of dings.
Victor wasn’t surprised to see the two guards standing there, both of them with ear pieces and hard, glinting stares. He gave them a grim smile. “Oh, look, honey,” he drawled. “It’s the VIP welcome crew.”
One guard motioned him forward. “I need to search you.”
Victor had expected nothing less. He lifted his hands so the pat down could begin. One guard was big, brawny—that would be the one searching him. The other guy was slender, more hesitant. That would be the guy lightly skimming his hands over Zoe.
Victor’s eyes narrowed on him. “Just where the fuck…” he said, his voice gravel rough as fury pumped through him. “Do you think she’d hide a weapon?” Talking while the guy searched would serve to better distract the fellow.
The guy stilled. His gaze jerked to Victor. “Y-you’d be surprised at the things I see.”
Victor growled back at him.
“Sh-she’s clean,” the guy said quickly. Nice half-assed search. The guy hadn’t even found Zoe’s knife.
Big and Brawny finished his search on Victor. “He’s good, too. Send them in to the boss.”
About damn time. Once more, Victor curled his arm around Zoe’s waist. But before he strode forward, he glanced at the two guards. “What are your names?”
“Why?” Big and Brawny demanded.
Victor shrugged. “Because I always like to know the names of the assholes I meet?” So the agents listening can learn more about you two.
The guy grunted. “I’m Samuel, and this guy’s Kevin, and you screw with us…we will break your face.”
“Good to know.” I’d like to see you try.
Samuel led them down a narrow hallway. No noise from the casino reached this level—they were far too high for that, and Victor suspected the walls there had been sound proofed. The guard turned to the right, opened a door, and directed them inside. Victor went first, ready to look for any threat, but the room—one that sported floor to ceiling windows everywhere he looked—was empty.
“Sit tight,” the guard told him. “You’ll have company soon.” He pointed to the bar. “Help yourself.”
Right. Because Victor wanted to get all liquored up for this little meeting.
Show me the boss. Bring the asshole in here to me so the Feds can swarm this place. That was the goal. Do their little show and dance. Get the guy to take the bait, and then…
It’s over.
The door closed softly behind the guard. Zoe’s breath rushed out. She looked up at him. “How do we know that they didn’t bring us
up here just to kill us both? Obviously, I was recognized the minute when I walked into the place.”
Yeah, they’d counted on that. Counted on her face being picked up in the security feeds and identified immediately. What better way to cut through the red tape and get an appointment with the man in charge?
The man who could take them to Michelle.
If she’s still alive.
Though he hadn’t said those words to Zoe, not yet. Because he didn’t want her hope to die.
“No one will kill us.” At least, not without one hell of a fight. Big and Brawny might not have found a weapon on him, but that didn’t mean Victor wasn’t armed. It just meant the guy hadn’t looked well enough.
Patdowns were always the same. The guys usually went straight for the ribs, the hips, the upper legs. When searching a man, the patdown always made sure to include a sweep of the jacket. Obvious choice.
And if you happened to be carrying a gun or a large knife, those patdowns would result in finding hidden weapons. But those patdowns also sure as hell wouldn’t turn up…
The weapons in his wallet. An old trick he’d learned—back on the streets when he’d been a punk ass kid—credit cards could be great, quick weapons. With some tape, a credit card, and a single edge razor, he’d made himself a fine and simple weapon—one that folks wouldn’t even notice until it was too late. Victor also had a small knife tucked inside his belt. And plenty of other little surprises…
Like a stun gun that looked just like a smart phone. A pen in his coat pocket hid another knife. He’d always been a fan of extra weapons—they’d sure come in handy for him plenty of times. Spy tech was one of his obsessions.
“Cameras are watching us, right?”
He gave the briefest of nods. His gaze scanned the room. A desk waited a few feet away. Were they in the boss’s office? Sure looked that way. So come on in for our private meeting.
As if on cue, the door opened once more. Victor’s muscles locked down as another surge of adrenaline shot through him.
“Hello, Zoe.”
Victor recognized the jerk standing in that doorway. How could he not? He’d been introduced to Xavier Winters and he’d even shook the guy’s hand. A hand he’d wanted to break at the time. He’d held back, barely.