"This is why we're heading to this secret lake ASAP," Jagger continues. "The lake is only a two-hour drive from Maxim's cave. If we hurry, we can reach it before the Diavolos pack up and move elsewhere."

  "Are we going to find the Diavolos, Daddy?"

  "We'll find out."

  Maxim presses a button on his dashboard. "Enough serious talk. Who's in the mood for music?"

  I glance at Daddy out of the corner of my eye. The festive atmosphere of this morning is fading fast.

  Music is the perfect thing to cheer us up.

  I raise my hand. "I am."

  Maxim roars with laughter as he turns to me. "That's what I'm talking about, boy." He brings his fist to mine. "Give me a fist bump. You know how to have fun on missions."

  I fist bump Maxim to distract from the nerves in my tummy. "What kind of music do you have?"

  Maxim smirks. "Wait and see."

  The sounds of Russian folk music flood the Jeep as Maxim continues down the path. I rest my head on Jagger's shoulder as his vehicle bounces up and down, shaking due to the rugged terrain.

  Russian yodeling reaches my ears, making me think about our mission. For some reason, the music doesn't relieve my pent-up anxiety.

  I'm going to see the Diavolos again.

  I'm going to confront those bastards face-to-face.

  When I do, they might finish the job they started at the warehouse and kill me.

  Maxim drives for hours until at last, he stumbles across a fast-flowing river. It cuts through our path, before disappearing behind a collection of tall pine trees.

  Vladimir and the Assassins’ trucks screech to a halt behind us. The smell of exhaust and burnt diesel enters my nose as we wait for Maxim's lead.

  Maxim points to a spot beyond the trees. "That's the Moroccan's lake where we thought Zaire's yacht was parked until last night."

  Jagger's eyebrows slam together. "Where's the billionaire oligarch's hidden lake?"

  Maxim gestures to the dense forest across the river. "There."

  Thick brush conceals what lies beyond. Tall trees cast shadows on the forest floor.

  My breath catches in my throat. "How do we push through there?"

  Maxim turns around to face me. "Follow me."

  After grabbing his AK-47, he instructs us to remove our clothes and follow him across the river. We strip to nothing and hold our pants and shirts above our heads, preventing the water from dampening them.

  Maxim plows through the rapids, his mighty body blazing a trail. His enormous, hulking hairy back reflects the light of the sun, casting diamond patterns on the fast-flowing stream.

  Jagger holds me close so the current doesn't sweep me away. When we reach the other side, he sets me down and hands me my shirt and khakis.

  "Great job, baby boy." He dips down and kisses me.

  I thrust my arms around his neck and kiss him, too. "Let's find Zaire's yacht, Daddy. I want to end these bastards' lives."

  Jagger issues me a curt nod. "That's exactly what we'll do."

  After Jagger dresses, he leads me into the forest. Thick, impenetrable canopy towers over us, blocking out the sunlight. Branches snap when Vladimir and the Assassins walk behind us and strange sounds emanate from the brush, each scarier than the last.

  A cry that sounds like an endangered bird being squashed by a wild predator rings out—a second cry sounds like an injured deer. I shiver as I climb over fallen trees that lie in front of us, making it tough to hike. The roots that snake across the ground paired with the detritus that slips wherever we step threaten to trip us, but by God's grace we stay standing.

  Sweat beads on hairy Maxim's back as he cuts through the brush with the machete he packed in his loincloth. He roars as he slices tree limbs, sending them crashing to the ground to grant us passage.

  When he encounters an enormous boulder blocking our path, he thrusts it high above his head and rams it deep into the woods.

  At one point, a mountain lion growls in front of us, protecting her territory. Maxim tackles her to the ground, smashing her head in before gutting her and throwing her carcass to Vladimir to tan later tonight.

  I grip Daddy's hand tighter. My eyes flit around me, taking in the tall, scary trees, enormous, dense brush, and creepy sounds. A bug slides over my foot, and I fight back a scream as I latch onto Daddy for support.

  "Are we close?" I whine as I bury my head in his chest.

  Jagger brings his hairy hand to my back and rubs it. "Yes, sweet boy. We'll be there soon."

  Maxim whips around to growl at us. "My GPS tracking device says we'll arrive any minute. No talking."

  My arms latch around Daddy even tighter. "Yes, sir."

  I want this mission to be successful.

  I want to break into Zaire's yacht and take him out.

  Or if I can't do it, I want Jagger to do it for me.

  If the mission's too dangerous, I've already admitted to myself that Jagger, Maxim, and the others will do the dirty work.

  Murdering my abusers in New York City is one thing—sneaking into a sex trafficking yacht and killing the men who held me captive for five years is another.

  Jagger snakes his arm around my waist. "Don't worry, baby boy. When we kill the Diavolos, I'll let you have extra s'mores tonight."

  I stare into Daddy's eyes… and melt into a pool of warm fuzzies. I moan as I stand on my tiptoes and plant a big fat baby kiss on his lips. "I'd love that, Daddy."

  I'd especially love if he let me have extra chocolate on my graham crackers. How great would that be?

  We continue following Maxim through the woods until we reach a clearing. Maxim raises his index finger to let us know to stand back as he checks it out. Sliding his machete into his loincloth, he slowly walks to the edge of the clearing.

  His jaw drops when he discovers what he's looking for.

  He whips around to face us. "I found the lake."

  "Is Zaire's yacht there?" Vladimir demands.

  Maxim nods. "Yes."

  Dropping all reservations, we race next to Maxim. Thudding feet kick up dirt all around me, but I don't mind. We're all excited to lay eyes on the vessel that holds our enemy: Zaire’s yacht.

  I follow Daddy through the clearing… and my jaw crashes to the ground when I see the lake. Pristine blue water sparkles as bright as sapphires. Tall elm trees surround us, which is uncanny because these aren't natural to the region. Swans mingle in the distance with wild ducks, snaking their necks together as they flutter their wings. Two moose with enormous antlers charge each other on the far end of the lake, letting out savage calls as they butt heads.

  In the distance, a brown bear sleeps peacefully next to her three cubs. She looks completely unbothered like she's never encountered a predator she can't handle in her life.

  I tighten my grip on Jagger's hand. "This lake looks untouched, Daddy."

  "This is a man-made lake." Jagger massages my waist. "A rich czar created it three hundred years ago and hid it from all maps. No human—except for the oligarch who currently owns it—has stepped foot here in hundreds of years."

  My eyes turn to slits. "Except the Diavolos."

  When I see the white shape to our right, I lift my finger to draw Jagger's attention to it. He grits his teeth.

  Zaire's yacht.

  It rises from the blue water, tall and menacing.

  Steel chains anchor it to a wooden dock that leads to a cobblestone walkway. A stream rushes next to it.

  Anger twists through my insides. This is the yacht of my nightmares. The place where the Diavolos brought boys and forced them to service wealthy men. The place where they're currently keeping the assholes who destroyed my life.

  Jagger tightens his grip on my hand. "Are you okay?"

  "No." I spit on the ground as my eyes glower with rage. "I know the Diavolos are in there. I can feel it, Daddy."

  Jagger turns to me. "Do you want to come with me or wait here?"

  It's the moment of truth. My breath hitches as I stare into Jagger's eyes, my heart pounding. If I join Jagger, I risk my life. There's no way around it.

  Yet if I don't join him, I'll regret this moment forever. I'll picture myself standing on the lake's edge, too scared to join Daddy, too afraid to face my abusers.

  I don't want to be a scaredy cat.

  "I want to join you."

  Jagger tilts my chin up. "I don't want to put your life in danger, boy. Daddy and his friends are more than capable of taking the Diavolos out. I'll never sleep another night in my life if I let anything happen to you."

  I push out a breath. "I still want to do it."

  Jagger strokes my chin. "I have a better idea."

  35

  JAGGER

  I wait to see how Sparrow reacts before speaking. When he nods, I proceed.

  "I'll enter Zaire's yacht alone," I say, inching forward. "When I find Seth, I'll bring him back to you to kill."

  Sparrow's eyebrows migrate to his forehead. "Are you joking?"

  "No." I squeeze my angel's hand. "This is the best course of action. You won't need to risk your life and you'll still kill your abuses."

  Sparrow's cheeks puff out. "I want to help you, Daddy. Standing around this lake while you risk your life isn't fair. I should break into Zaire's yacht with you. Not wait for you to bring Seth to me."

  I press my thumb into Sparrow's palm. "You'll still help. When I bring that bastard here, you'll put a bullet between his eyes."

  Sparrow burrows into my chest. "Are you sure this will assist you?" He sniffles. "You won't think I'm a pansy for not going on the yacht?"

  My eyes lock on my cherub's precious face. He wants to be brave—to be the fighter he was in New York when he murdered Eder. But the expression of worry that taints my sensitive boy's features lets me know he's also afraid of this mission. He can protest all he wants, but I know he'd prefer for me to bring Seth to him.

  "You'll help me more by staying alive." I dip down and rub my lips on Sparrow's. "If you die today, I'll never be happy again."

  Sparrow pushes out a breath. "Would you mind if I killed Seth with my knife?" He produces his hunting knife from his pocket. "I don't want to shoot him, Daddy. I want to see the blood drip from his neck when I slit his throat."

  I kiss him hot and hard. "My little stabby boy. Yes, you can use your knife." I groan as I swirl my tongue around his mouth. "You can use whatever you want as long as you get the job done."

  Sunlight warms our faces as we lose ourselves in each other's lips. I pour my heart into this kiss, letting him know I value his contribution to this mission, that I can't go on living if I don't keep him safe. The most vital thing is that he returns to Maxim's cave alive.

  When I bring Seth to him, I'll make damn sure he can't hurt him. I don't give a shit if I need to tie his hands behind his back while my boy does his dirty work. That motherfucker will pay for his actions.

  When we break off the kiss, Sparrow hugs me one last time. "Be safe, Daddy. Don't die."

  I ruffle his hair. "I won't die, angel boy. Daddy will come back for you."

  I let go of his hand and pick up my AK-47. I kiss Sparrow one last time before heading to Maxim's side.

  "Ready?" Maxim growls.

  I issue him a nod. "Yes."

  Maxim rushes around the edge of the lake toward Zaire's yacht. I glance at Sparrow, my heart swelling when he waves at me. After blowing him a kiss, I continue down the path Maxim beats for me so we can complete our mission.

  Vladimir, Riggs, Ajax, Adonis, Glock, Grey, Hawk, Zane, Blaze, and Dom race behind us to back us up. Their weapons are even larger than mine.

  Hawk has a grenade launcher strapped to his chest and Adonis has a bazooka. Maxim informed me earlier today that they would've taken Vladimir's military-grade helicopter with a rocket launcher if they hadn't been so worried about the noise. The crux of this mission is our sneak attack: we must kill them before they can react.

  I follow Maxim to Zaire's yacht. It rises like the Titanic when we approach it from behind trees. The front deck is enormous, providing an endless view of its surroundings. The Diavolos certainly have security cameras both inside and out, which makes speed even more critical.

  Maxim tightens his grip on his gun as he motions for Vladimir and the Assassins to get in position. They rush behind pine trees for camouflage.

  Maxim turns to me. "You and I are heading into the yacht first. Vladimir and the Assassins will shoot anyone who runs out."

  I nod. "Let's do it."

  Tightening my grip on my AK-47, I explode down the dock leading to the yacht. Maxim tugs the safety off his gun as he follows me.

  I raise my AK-47 and glance around the yacht deck. "All clear."

  Maxim and I rush to the main cabin. We comb over the ornate fixtures, smooth hardwood floors, high ceilings, and cabinets for signs of the Diavolos.

  It enters my ears before I realize what it is.

  Beep.

  My fingers clench as I register the noise. "What the fuck is that?"

  Beep.

  Maxim lifts his gun. "Stand back."

  Beep.

  I rush toward the rear cabin window as I tighten my grip on my AK-47. "Whoever's in here, come out. You're surrounded."

  A droplet of something falls from the ceiling.

  I glance up to see a red spot forming on the woodwork.

  Reaching up, I ram the butt of my AK-47 into the red spot.

  It happens in a split second.

  A body tumbles out of the ceiling and crashes to the ground.

  Maxim aims his gun at the body and points his nuzzle at its face.

  I grab its chin and turn its face around.

  My stomach sinks.

  Seth Diavolo.

  A bullet wound in his forehead.

  Attached to his chest is a vest with explosives.

  A timer says:

  Five.

  Four.

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  I grab Maxim's shirt. "This place is going to blow."

  We rush out of the cabin and leap into the water.

  The yacht explodes behind us.

  Shards of metal soar into the air.

  The windows blow out as the entire top of the yacht detonates in a smoke bomb.

  I glance down at my right arm. I curse when I see a red gash. I didn't even feel it when I leapt from the yacht deck. It burns like hell now. Blood drips from the wound and trickles into the water. A bit of flesh hangs off the side, irritated from the blast.

  The explosion must've caught me before Maxim and I plunged to safety.

  Maxim emerges from the water beside me. He coughs, then slams his chest. His shirt is ragged and his hairy back muscles bulge. His hair is singed black and smoking.

  "Are you okay?" Maxim spits up water.

  A violent cough escapes me as I punch my chest. "Yes."

  "Did the explosion hurt you?"

  I gesture to my arm. "It fucked up my arm. I'll be all right when I get medical attention."

  "Let's get the fuck out of here." I point to the boat which roars with fire. "This yacht isn't done burning."

  Maxim and I swim to shore as a second explosion rocks the yacht. More shards of metal and glass rocket into the lake and blanket it in burning embers. A steel support beam lands in the spot where Maxim and I were treading water only seconds ago.

  Zane and Blaze grab our arms to help us to safety. They pull Maxim from the lake first and I follow suit after. I have difficulty exiting the water due to the throbbing burn on my right arm. It screams in pain, begging for a bandage and disinfectant.

  Blaze rushes to my side with a First Aid kit. He tugs rubbing alcohol, ointment, and fresh bandages out of the blue case. He scrubs my wound clean which causes me to clench my teeth. Next he applies ointment that contains antibiotics. After he wraps it in a white bandage, he tapes it together so it stays in place.

  Smoke rams into my nose and makes me nauseous. I rush to the edge of the lake and cough up water. I didn't realize human lungs could hold so much fucking liquid. I cough up at least two liters.

  Dizzy spots float across my vision when I finish. I try to stay standing but I topple to the ground. The motherfucking explosion did a number on me. No matter how hard I fight, the nausea rocketing through me is too intense to bear. Ringing sounds in my ears which makes my head spin.

  Zane grabs my arms and pries me away from the lake. "What happened?"

  After he props me up against an ancient elm tree with half of its bark missing, I explain about Seth's body.

  Zane’s eyes turn to slits. "Are you sure it was Seth?"

  "Yes." I cough up the cup of water he hands me. "I've studied the pictures the Ferraris showed me at length."

  "Do you think this was a trap?"

  "Yes." My teeth chatter as I look at what remains of the yacht. "No fucking doubt about it."

  Panic grips me in iron talons. "Where's Sparrow?"

  "He's safe." Zane holds my shoulder. "Adonis rushed over to protect him after the yacht blew up. He's looking out for him at the trail entrance."

  Zane’s walkie-talkie crackles.

  He lifts it to his mouth and exchanges words with Adonis.

  I don't hear what he says.

  My brain tunes his voice out.

  I can only focus on one thing.

  Sparrow.

  I must see him.

  Get to his side.

  Hold him.

  Comfort him.

  Make sure the Diavolos didn't hurt him.

  I don't even give a fuck about my injuries.

  I must see my boy and feel his lips on mine.

  I roar as I smash Zane’s walkie-talkie out of his hand and grab his shoulders. "Take me to Sparrow."

  Zane props me against his shoulder as he leads me down the lake path. We walk quickly so no one ambushes us from behind. Blaze is still addressing Maxim's wounds and Vladimir, Riggs, Ajax, Glock, Grey, Hawk, and Dom are combing the woods for the Diavolos, so we don't concern ourselves with them.

  My heart slams in my chest as we walk. It was a mistake to come here. I don't know who obtained this information about Zaire's yacht, but it was faulty. The entire thing was a setup. The Diavolos likely tracked us every step of the way because they knew exactly when we arrived.

 

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