The limo pulled to a stop before the ‘Salem Gold’ Hotel. It was beautiful and graceful with a slim, soaring tower, and not at all what she expected. She ducked her head to stare out of the tinted window, her gaze following the many reflective floors shimmering with city lights to the top. 

“I felt the same way when I first saw it,” Hope said. 

She glanced at her. 

“Surprised?” She smiled. 

“Completely. Not what you expected, is it?” She shook her head to confirm that this was nothing like what she pictured while she was being prepped to enter as a member into a secret sex society. 

“But then again, you would have never guessed Tony was behind all that mess with ‘Rush’” 

Hope added.

“John would disagree.”

A hiss of static erupted in her ear. 

Abe placed a finger to his ear. “We hear you, officer. Now, please don’t monopolize the feed. It will be difficult enough without a cop in all our ears.” 

 

“It’s not too late to call this off and take a different route, Doc,” John said. She could hear the urgency in his voice, and she admitted, staring at the hotel, uncertain about what was within…what was coming next…she almost agreed to do just that. “Do you want to catch the minnow or the big fish?” 

Abe asked, directing his question to John. “You said that if the ISA entered the picture, they’d storm in all half-cocked.” 

A moment of tense silence. Then: “You better be sure, Abe.” A beat. “I want nothing less than to collar the head of Tony DIMera and this criminal network of his. Tonight,” John added. 

Abe looked around the cab of the limo, capturing each of their gazes. “Collar? As much as I enjoy cop jargon, let’s be clear.” He snapped his fingers, and the driver opened Abe’s door. He stepped out and straightened his jacket. “Collaring means something entirely different in this world.” 

With that, Abe extended his hand and helped Hope from the limo. Roman settled his hand over hers on her knee, and she looked up. “I know you’d wish John was here with you instead of me, Doc…so It’s alright to be nervous,” he said. 

“Are you?” ignoring his remark.

His hollow laugh filled the car. “I’m taking you into The Firm, with John watching my every move. Nervous is a strong understatement.” 

 

Her face flushed. 

“Hey,” he said, gripping her hand reassuringly. “Remember, if it becomes too much, if there’re any triggers, just say the word.” 

“Pie,” she said, and he smiled. 

 

Like a safe word, it was the signal for them to pull out of the op. If she so much as utter it, John will get her out. “Marlena, it’s highly unlikely we’ll come face-to-face with Tony in there.” He nodded toward the building. 

“We’re just playing a role. Gathering intel.” 

Marlena nodded once, and then their door opened. Roman stepped out, mimicking Abe as he reached in to take her hand. She allowed him to pull her from the limo, and she did as instructed, acknowledging Roman as her Master for this mission. She bowed her head and walked behind him. Keeping Roman’s reassurance tucked close, she put one strappy heel in front of the other. 

Tony won’t be there. 

No, like all filth that dwelled below the radar, Tony will watch the transactions from afar later on. Then, his accomplices will lead them right to the bastard. That’s when the second half of their party will take over the operation. 

 

John feared her part, but going into The Lair was far less dangerous than his job with the ISA. 

An ache filled her chest. She trusted him, and she trusted that he was the best—he’ll keep her safe. 

 

The foyer of the hotel smelled of gardenias, the flowers displayed in tall vases throughout the beautiful entry. She kept her head bowed as they entered an elevator, and as soon as Abe opened the panel to select the penthouse floor, the car bounded upward. 

Her stomach tingled from the sudden motion. 

“Here.” Hope turned toward her and presented a black satin mask. It was deliberately selected because it covered most of her face. As she slipped it over her head and arranged it on her eyes, she leaned in close and listened to the whisper in her earpiece. 

“Don’t be ashamed if you discover you enjoy being possessed. Only be ashamed if you deny yourself a chance to explore this side of yourself, Doc. I love you.” 

Her heart thundered to life, and she was intently focused on her breathing. She pulled away and dragged her hair over her shoulders. 

 

She was ready.

 

She was not given another second to ponder her words as the elevator doors opened to the penthouse. She was thrust forward on sheer exhilaration, adrenaline blistering her veins, as she somehow found the courage to step forward. Low, bass-filled music pulsed within the room. The beat stroked her chest at the same time her senses were assaulted with every other sensation. The flicker of candles, the scent of floral incense.

It was impossible to keep her head bowed when she was so tempted to look around. From what she could discern, it was not crowded; Abe and Hope stated it wouldn’t be—that these were not the masked faces of the regular members. 

These were the meticulously vetted and chosen buyers for the auction. 

Tony’s special selection. 

Which meant these were some of the most vile, corrupt men in all of the area, if not the world. She wondered how many were politicians. The walls were painted a deep red and black. Sheer material was draped between lounging spaces. Thick beams further separated the sections. 

And along the walls, bondage gear. 

Ropes. 

Chains.

Toys. 

A room decorated to cater to any BDSM fantasy. 

 

She stayed a foot behind Roman as they weaved through the throng gathered in the middle. She couldn’t help it; she peeked up to witness Abe step onto a platform and lift his hands to quiet the chatter before she stared back down at the lacquered floor. 

He has donned a mask, as well as Hope, who stood just below him. Every person there wears some form of cover to conceal his or her identity. It won’t matter. That won’t protect them. 

Every single body in this penthouse was, as she stood here, being identified and marked by John. 

The list of names Abe gave John of the buyers was the trade-off for their cooperation on this operation. 

“Sirs and madams,” Abe said, and the room quieted further to hear his speech. “I welcome you to the first-ever Firm Auction.” Light applause trickled through the room. Roman only hesitated a moment before he joined in. “Before the auction begins, please indulge in the festivities we’ve arranged for this evening. It’s never ideal to purchase on impulse, so fill your gluttonous desires.” 

A short burst of laughter erupted. 

“Enjoy.” 

 

Pressure beats at her temples. This was their cue to move to the voyeur section. Even though she had been prepped, the knowledge of what was about to commence jacked her heart rate. Roman slipped his arm through hers and guided her toward the lounging area. Abe made sure they understood the dynamics of the penthouse, and they eased into the scene without garnering any unwanted attention. She let Roman seat her on a spacious velvet couch, relieved to be in the safest area of the penthouse. So far, everything has gone according to plan. As Roman took his spot beside her, accepting a flute of champagne from a hostess serving drinks, the room became a living force. The music heightens, the lights dim, and from the other side of the room, in walks the most beautiful, exotic women she’d ever seen. 

They were clad only in silver masks. Their gorgeous, naked bodies shimmer with a metallic gloss, illuminating their skin and plunging this scene into an ethereal realm. Each woman took up a post near one of the suited men. 

 

She’d counted around ten men—buyers—so far. Some have brought their subs or slaves…or maybe even their wives, along with them. She was not sure how this works, what the parameters were—how one went about purchasing another human being. But she didn’t have time to speculate as one of the breathtaking vixens approached them. 

 

She could almost hear Roman gulp his champagne as she stopped right in front of him. “Hello, Master. My name is Amber.” Her voice was a tinkle soft chime. “I’m your gift tonight. How can I serve you?” 

They, however, were not warned about this development. And for all Roman was coaching, he was barely able to keep his stoic expression in place. She spotted Abe near the platform, and he raised his champagne glass in their direction. A knowing smile spreads across his face. 

They needed to mingle.

Fuck. 

Roman cleared his throat, set the flute on the floor to his right. “My angel and I like to watch,” he said, pressing back into the couch. “That is, of course, why we’re in the voyeurs’ section.” Her smile set her soft features aglow behind the mask. “Your wish is my command, Master.” She beckoned with a curl of her finger, and another woman sauntered over from across the room. 

She was trailed by a tall, leanly built man in a black suit. 

Marlena’s chest constricted. 

This was not a part of the program. And what was worse, despite his mask, she recognized him. He was always hovering around her office. Tony’s doctor.

Colin Brady. 

 

Colin inclined his head to them in greeting as he stretched out along the couch, then he waved his hand in a quick flick to the women. 

“Give us a show,” he ordered. 

Then to Roman, he leaned his head near and said, “I can rarely bring myself to share my sub—” his dark eyes devour the blonde “—but when in Rome, right?” 

 

He turned a jeering smile on Roman, but his hungry gaze flitted to her. A shiver crawled along her skin. She focused on keeping her gaze sealed on the women as they began to fondle and caress. 

The blonde, Colin’s sub, adorned the same diamond-encrusted bird pendant around her neck she’d seen on Hope. 

“She belongs to me,” Roman said, a dark note in his voice. “I don’t share. Ever.” 

He was instructed well on how to handle this particular situation. But, she didn’t think they took the partners into consideration when formulating this tactic. She tugged at her collar, and, remembering the camera, forced her hand to her lap. 

 

“I see,” Colin said, returning his attention to the two women who were aggressively touching and kissing… “However, for this special event, we’ve all had to make a few sacrifices, you see. I strongly encourage you to play by the rules and allow your beauty to explore the festivities.” 

A hint of familiarity barred her mind. 

Hope said a similar thing to her in the elevator, and now, Colin’s warning rang clear. 

Roman and she didn’t belong. 

They sure as hell didn’t understand the rules. 

Was Hope forewarning her? If so, why be so cryptic? Panic threaded her spine as she gathered her nerve. 

She lowered her gaze and faced Roman. 

“If it will please you, Master.” 

Colin laughed. “Oh, unleash the girl. Let her play. I assure you, you’ll be greatly rewarded for your trust.” His eyes narrow on Roman. 

A hiss of static sounds in her ear. “Roman, Marlena’s right. Dammit, okay, you’re being tested,” John said. “Order Marlena to join in—but not to undress. It’s the only way to compromise and show your gratitude for being selected to the partners.”

 

Roman bent forward and picked up his flute. He took a long swig before he sat it back down. “I find myself feeling rather grateful this evening,” he said to Colin. “And, of course, I’m inclined to show that gratitude.” 

“All right. Good,” John encouraged, then the link was cut off, silent once again. 

“Anne,” Roman addressed her by her crafted identity. “Stand and join Amber and Colin’s lovely morsel in some entertaining play for us all.” He reached over and grasped her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. “But, you will not remove your dress.” As much as she’d been coached, it was still difficult to enact this role. 

Marlena swallowed, knowing her nerves were at least helping her appear the demur and devout submissive she’d been prepped to be. 

“Yes, Master.” 

She could do this. 

She controlled her body.

No one was taking; no one was forcing. 

Mindset was everything. 

Colin is not Stefano. 

These men—though as vile as they were—were not Stefano. 

 

She continued to mentally prepare herself as she stood. The full scenic view impacted her, and her breath stuttered. 

Debauchery at its finest filled the penthouse. 

It was a shock to her system, but it was not appalling. There was a delicate texture threading the air, vibrating, tantalizing. And once she accepted this fiction, she slipped into the character of Anne willingly. 

Two sections over, a couple has sex openly on top of a table. The man thrust into the bronzed woman unguarded, uninhibited. All around her, hands pawed, and eyes watched. The sharp whip of leather met flesh, stung the air. It ignited her senses, and when Amber pressed her body against hers, her skin blazed. 

She didn’t look at Roman as her hands roamed along her hips, down to her thighs, though she could feel his eyes on her. 

And I know this is part of the mission. 

John was right. He was never over her.

But she desperately wished he’d look away as the naked woman behind her suddenly kissed her neck. 

“Not on the mouth, Jean,” Colin chastised his sub. “I have my rules, too.” He directed this comment to Roman, and then she was acutely aware of both men watching the scene unfold before them. 

Amber tugged at her satin dress, yanking it up her thigh. She let her hands caress her, feeling the silken, glittery oil coating her skin. She closed her eyes, but that didn’t prevent the others from seeing her on the monitors. 

John. 

He was watching her through Roman’s camera. The thought came as a swift kick to her chest, awakening her trance. She could almost lose herself in this moment, allowing a dull glaze to coat her mind and feel removed. Or she could do as Hope suggested: explore. 

 

Only the reality of her feelings for John won’t let either happen. 

She belonged to John. 

“Your skin is so soft,” Amber whispered in her ear, her tongue tasting her lobe. She positioned her thigh against her hip, and she gripped her shoulders, seeking balance. Her foot found purchase on the low marble table. “It’s too bad your Master won’t let you remove this.” She fondled the shoulder clasp of her dress. “But we can work around that.” The clasp came loose, and the strap slipped down. 

Her dress fell open, revealing her breast. “Oops,” she said, a deviant smile playing at her mouth. Colin’s boisterous laugh speared her, and the shock of the girl’s yelp as he swatted her ass covered her alarm. She snatched her strap and hastily refastened the clasp. “Can never train them completely,” Colin remarked to Roman. “They love seeking punishments.” But really, he was not put out at all by this. Rather, he looked delighted that the woman tested Roman’s authority. Amber wore a sultry pout on her lips, but she was quick to move on, her fingers delicately kneading their way up her inner thigh as Jean pulled her shoulders back, reclining her against her chest. Marlena felt the press of her nipples through the sheer satin material; then she was jolted by the shock of Amber’s fingers slipping her thong aside. 

 

She didn’t stop there, and soon she pushed her slim fingers inside her while the other woman caressed her breasts. Her whole body thrummed with tension, and it was impossible to relax. 

Shit.

She was going to blow this. 

They’re going to see right through her… 

“Don’t look away, Doc.” John’s voice snapped in her ear. She startled, her gaze shot to Roman—who was staring at the floor. He bent over to grab his champagne and whispered into his mic, “I can’t watch this. I can’t watch Marlena—” 

“You’re going to get her hurt,” John cut in, his voice thick, grating. “Look at her, or I’ll beat the shit—” 

“Ten minutes until the auction commences, gentlemen.” 

 

It was Abe’s voice traveling through the penthouse, the announcement breaking into the feed. Relief was a wave crashing into her. “Well, then,” Colin said. “Sorry to cut the show short, but my sub must tend to her Master now.” Furthering her relief, the blonde was suddenly gone. Colin led her by the wrist to the couch, and her bated breath sprung free. Amber pushed her mouth into another pout. 

“My time is up.” She turned to Roman and bowed. “Are you sure I can be of no more service to you, Master?” But it was Colin who answered. “You can be of service to me.” 

He grasped her by the waist and hauled her over the couch, kicking her ass up toward him. He winked at Roman as he unbuckled his belt. “It’s not good to peruse the menu on an empty stomach, right?” He quoted Abe’s speech with a slick smile slanting his mouth. “We all know the merchandise isn’t as fulfilling when we get it home.” He nodded toward her. “Eat. Drink. Satisfy your urges, so you make a wise purchase, my friend.” 

 

Her eyes flicked to Roman as Colin proceeded to take Amber right there. He was doing a terrible job of masking his shock. This was not happening. She lowered her foot from the table and slowly approached Roman, moving at a glacier’s pace. Waiting for John to come back with instructions on how to get out of this. 

Finally, he said, “Just fake it.” 

She almost opened her mouth to retort, a derisive laugh caught in her throat. 

Fake it. 

 

Fucking seriously? 

 

A quick sweep around the room captured the very not faking it happening all around them. “They’re all caught up in the moment,” John continued. “It’s dark...Just get a little closer.” 

Roman gave her a sure nod. 

“Come here,” he ordered, sounding authoritative and much more confident than she felt. She watched as he eased his hips up and unbuckled his belt. He tugged his pants down just enough to reveal the blue boxer briefs beneath. He left those in place. Collecting what courage she had left, she hiked her dress and straddled him without a second thought. His hand grasped the back of her neck, and he brought her forward, resting her cheek against his. “Say the word, and we’re out,” he whispered. 

 

She couldn’t lie, as Colin thrusts and grunts practically inches from her, brutally slamming his hips against Amber as the blonde sucked on her breasts… Pie was right on the tip of her tongue, ready to be spat out to end this humiliation. 

But those women. 

The victims. 

The ones waiting behind the scenes to be sold. She’d never be able to look at herself in the mirror without hating what she saw if she didn’t go through with this. 

 

Her actions in correcting the drug have sealed their fate to become a mindless, doped slave…and now, she could save them. 

“We’ve come too far,” she whispered in his ear as she undulated her hips, forcing all self-doubt to the back of her mind. “All right,” Roman said, doing his best to follow her lead. 

 

“Just don’t say come again.” A clatter sounded through her earpiece before the connection went silent, and she just knew it was John—she could feel him on the other side. 

Shit. 

As she lifted up, she saw it on Roman’s face, the fear of John throttling him in his pinched eyes. She was starting to feel bad for the guy. 

He was here risking his life and career right along with the rest of them, and yet, he couldn’t win in this scenario. Either they fail, and he loses everything, or they succeed…and John rips him a new one. 

 

She’d make sure to intercept John before that happened. She caught Roman’s gaze and nodded, urging him to stay focused on her. At this point, they were the prudes. The damn prudish couple amid a sea of wicked, scandalous sex and sin. And they stuck out like it. 

 

Taking the initiative, she rode Roman harder, faster, rocking her hips. She braced her hands against the couch and threw her head back, and shit—the clasp on her dress gave. The cool sensation of air greeted her skin, and she was only thankful for the dim lighting. When she looked down at Roman, he was staring at her stomach. She grabbed Roman’s hands and brought them to her breasts. 

They were adults. 

They were just boobs. 

They were married before.

They had to do something—anything to make this believable. And she guessed it was starting to work, because she felt Roman becoming aroused, growing hard beneath her. There was an apology in his eyes, and she placed her finger over his mouth to stop him from voicing it. 

Hell, there were people all over having intense, right-out-of-a-porno sex. She didn’t fault him for being turned on. Grinding against Roman didn’t do it for her. John has been the only person to excite her since they’ve met. 

Roman, however, didn’t suffer her “defect”, and that was clear as he became bold and took over the perusal of her breasts. He pinched her nipples and thrust his hips upward, grinding himself against her. 

“Jesus,” he hissed, then attempted to suppress a harsh groan. “Kiss me,” he said, and her eyes got wide. “Kiss me, and this will be over.” 

“Roman?” she whispered, her eyes widened as a deer in headlights. 

One of his hands slipped along the back of her neck, his fingers spearing into her hair, as he pulled her to him. His lips smashed against hers, the impact nearly as stunning as the feel of his other hand sliding beneath her dress and seeking her ass. 

His fingers skimmed her center and pressed against the fabric of her underwear…and then she felt his erection pulsing against her. Roman’s groan almost canceled out the blistering roar that crackled through the feed. 

John’s shout jarred them apart as the lights blinked on. She pulled her dress up and secured the strap over her shoulder. Then she pressed her mouth against his ear. “John’s going to kill you.” 

Before she could move away, he held her there. “I know. And I’m sorry, but that was the sexiest lap dance, and I couldn’t help myself.” 

Marlena cut her eyes at him as she slipped off his lap and adjusted her dress. God knows this meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. She’d had to accept circumstances she never wanted to before. 

 

One of them was that their bodies reacted to stimuli even when their brains protested. 

She knew this because Stefano forced her body to deceive her despite her own will. But her sympathy for Roman’s precarious situation dissolved the moment his tongue pushed inside her mouth and his fingers stole a cheap grope. 

If she told that to John… Well, Roman would pretty much be a dead man walking. Colin situated himself as the women toddled off to clean up. A disgusted feeling assaulted her stomach, but luckily her attention was diverted as Abe’s voice sounded out loud and clear. “And now, gentlemen, the main attraction.” 

 

The lights dimmed again, and one center spotlight winked on to showcase the platform. “All sales are finalized at the end of the auction. No returns, no trades. Let the bidding begin.” A large monitor descended from the ceiling above the stage, and she stumbled back against the couch. Roman helped her find her seat. Her heart lurched and threatened to burst through her chest wall at the sight of a young woman appearing on the screen. She only wore a black bra and underwear. A black bag covered her head. But she recognized the fresh mark on her upper thigh immediately. 

She has been branded by Tony. 

Her breath halted. 

Her back got taut. 

 

The man holding her arm donned a black ski mask. He yanked the bag from her head and lifted her chin, showing her off for the men in this room. Her fingers ached as they dug into the velvet. This was why they were here. 

This was why they were sacrificing everything. 

 

 

 

*******

 

 

His blood boiled, his knuckles along his right hand stung with fresh scrapes. He sank his hands under the cool stream and splashed his face. The bite of cold water defuses some of the heat simmering beneath his skin. 

“Are you ready yet?” he glanced in the mirror. Bo stood behind him in the bathroom, arms crossed, eyes assessing. 

“Almost,” John gritted out. 

He wrestled him out of the office before he could threaten that fucking shit, Roman. Seeing Marlena gyrating on top of him…his hands touching her…her mouth on his… His vision flared red. 

He lost his shit and took his frustration out on a wall. Abe now has a couple holes in the drywall of his office. 

It was fucking stupid, he knew. This was the op; this was the job. And he was a grown fucking man who knew the difference, but that didn’t stop the seething anger from raging anew. John slammed down the tap and let the water drip from his face. 

“I get it,” Bo said. “If it was Hope in there, I’d probably have Roman’s prick on a platter before morning.” He took a step closer. “But he was doing his job, keeping Marlena safe, by any means necessary. And Marlena’s suffered enough. She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need anyone else making what she had to do tonight any harder on her.” 

 

Fucking hell. 

 

He glared at him in the mirror. He was not hearing this from Bo right now. “My patience is through.” He turned and headed toward the door. “I’m not discussing my relationship with Marlena with you.” 

“Yeah, not now,” he said. He stopped. Standing at the door, fists clenched. “Who else do you have to talk to?” he asked. “Really talk to. Who will understand what Marlena’s been through, how that affects the both of you.” 

He swiped his hands over his face. As much as he was angry, Bo made a valid point. “But this isn’t happening now.” He looked over at him. 

He nodded. “Let’s get her out of this safely, then. So it will happen.” 

 

With that said, they headed back into the surveillance hub. Shane was seated before the monitor, his eyes fixed on a screen within the screen. “They’ve brought out the first girl.” And like that, his focus was where it needed to be. He pulled up his chair beside him. “Do we know how many girls yet?” 

He shook his head. “We knew they wouldn’t be able to sneak them into the hotel. Too risky. They’re transmitting the feed from somewhere in the city, though. I just can’t narrow down the location.” He switched to another monitor that showed the signal bouncing around the city. “It’s practically pinging every tower.”

 

He exhaled heavily. “Roger, take over tracing the signal.” 

“On it.” The agent moved into position and intercepted the keyboard. “Rog, zoom in on the screen. See if you can clear up the image.” 

John squinted at the monitor. “It’s dark, but looks like a warehouse. There’s a roll door in the background.” 

“Might be the same place Marlena was taken to when they took her from the hospital,” Shane said, and he glimpsed the worry in his eyes. If all goes to plan, it was where Marlena’s about to be retaken. 

Dammit. 

 

He hated it, but Bo was right. Marlena was the strong one here. She didn’t have to do this, and yet, she was the first to step forward. He eased back in his chair and brought out the picture from my inseam pocket. Marlena’s hazel eyes and bright smile. A picture capturing a moment in time when Marlena knew nothing of suffering and pain—not like she does now. 

A deep ache burrowed beneath his chest. That woman still existed somewhere below all her pain, and she was desperately trying to find her again. Marlena’s putting herself on the line, risking it all, in order to end the threat and bring herself back. 

None of this was black and white. 

There was no right or wrong. 

In this world, there were only people who caused pain and the recipients of that pain. Marlena was swept into a dark storm, unaware, and she had been treading the downpour ever since. 

He wanted to be her hero. 

But she was the hero of her own story. Even heroes make mistakes. And now, she was putting herself in danger to correct them. 

 

“Wait—what’s that?” Shane zeroed in on the masked man restraining the girl. She was shivering and crying, and when Shane enlarged the angle, he saw a syringe in his hand. Shit. 

He swiveled his chair around to face Bo. 

“Earpiece?” His eyebrows hiked. 

“I guess it’s safe to give it back to you now.” He dug into his pocket and produced the earbud he jacked when he lost control. 

Maybe it was best he did. 

Once this was over, he didn’t want the memory of Roman’s hands on Marlena…or anything else that transpired. It was already going to be hard enough to curb the impulse to break Roman’s face every time he saw him. He stuffed the bud into his ear just as a high-pitched whine bled into their feed. 

They reared back from the feedback. Then, a deep, garbled voice boomed from the main speakers. “Thank you for joining me this evening.” 

Shane and him exchanged glances. 

“Tony,” they nearly said in unison. 

“We’re still recording?” he asked. 

He confirmed before the distorted voice continued. “I pride myself that this is much more than the average auction, and I’m prepared to demonstrate this fact.” On the monitor, the masked man raised the syringe and inserted the needle into the thrashing woman’s arm. Within seconds, she’d calmed. 

Docile. 

Accepting her predicament. 

 

His stomach roiled with vitriol at the display. “Rush, gentlemen,” Tony said. “With every purchase tonight, you’ll receive a sample, and the means to set up a year’s supply of this revolutionary drug that’s going to change the industry.” The camera panned closer to the woman, deliberately highlighting her rapid-changing demeanor. 

He’d remembered. 

It was what Mike experienced with Marlena. And fuck—he wanted nothing more than to punch through the monitor and rip Tony’s throat out. The woman touched herself, her moan sounding pained. She grinded against the masked man and clawed at his jacket. She stripped her panties away and began gratifying herself… John looked away. 

 

“What would you pay to own a never-sated slave? Hungry for you every second of the day?” Tony paused for a beat. “As you can see, a drug in such demand couldn’t possibly have a price tag. It’s simply priceless. But everything must have a price. Choose yours.” Then Tony’s robotic voice faded out, and all that remained was a victimized woman on the screen. Immediately, the buyers start to bid. Below the projection screen, an underscored box lit up with numbers rapidly ascending into the thousands. 

 

“Hell.” Shane’s breathless curse conveyed exactly what they were witnessing. 

Hell. 

And that was precisely where they’re going to send Tony. After the initial purchase of the first woman, the auction moved along quickly, and at the very least, no other woman had to suffer the Rush demonstration she endured. “Abe’s giving Roman the go-ahead to place a bid on the fourth girl,” Shane said, pressing his finger to his earpiece. Abe’s voice came in over the feed.

 

“Bid now,” he told Roman. 

On the monitor, through Hope’s camera, they watched Roman push a button on the table before him. Roman just needed to purchase one girl for them to be in. And he needed to do it without raising any alarms. Now, all he had to do was keep his cool and place the winning bid, and Tony would be within their reach. “The man to his left—” Shane checked his tablet with the list of buyers already identified “—Judge Ramos is putting up a fight for this girl.” He glanced at him. “Is it believable that Roman can actually afford a hundred grand?” That was what the bid was about to reach. “Yeah, it is,” he said. “Abe transferred just over that into his account today. Made it look like a series of deposits over the past year.” he shook his head. 

 

“The judge is out,” Shane said as he focused on the auction. “Roman’s in at just over a hundred thousand. Holy shit.” 

Holy shit was right. 

Roman didn’t get to actually keep any of the money, and the actual transaction will never take place—but he was sure he was feeling the pressure at having just bid away a small fortune. “He stayed cool,” Bo said, his gaze flicked to him, and yes—he got it. Everyone was being tested tonight. 

Not just him. 

“It appears they’re moving into the finale,” Abe said into the feed. Three women were brought before the camera, the bags over their heads yanked away. They haven’t been able to identify any of the women, but if they pulled this off, not a single one of them will be sold. After a short rundown on each of the girls’ stats—virgin, pure, blond, brunette—the masked man placed his hand over the first girl’s head, and the bids lighted up. “Why are they suddenly rushing?” Shane asked, looking at the monitor with the hopping transmitted signal. “Someone else is tracing the signal,” Roger said. “And whoever it is, isn’t as stealthy as us. They must know.” 

Damn. 

But there was no time to route the attack. By the time the last girl was sold, the screen inside The Firm got dark. 

His back locked taut as they await Tony’s next move. 

Come on. 

Come on. 

 

Abe moved onto the platform, and his jaw set, every muscle corded tight. “Gentlemen, that concludes the auction.” Five men wearing black ski masks appeared from the other side of the penthouse and stood at the platform. His lungs refused to take a breath. “Please remain seated as our friends here distribute your buyer cards with generated purchases,” Abe said. “Trackers going out,” Shane confirmed, checking the signal. 

Each card has a transmitter chip that they’d use to track. It was a stipulation of Tony, which Abe and John decided to exploit. Using his own system against him. “Once you have your card, please head toward the elevator,” Abe instructed. “You’ll now be paired in groups, and each group will have one of these fine gentlemen escort you to the pick-up location for your purchase.” 

That was their cue. 

 

They were up and collecting their gear as Abe disappeared behind the screen. “I’ve done my part,” Abe whispered to them. “Good luck.” His connection was terminated. 

 

He stared at the monitor, his chest tight as he watched Marlena prepare to go dark. “Marlena,” he said. “It’s almost over. Stay strong. I’m right behind you, we’re coming to get you .I love you, baby.” 

She couldn’t respond, but she touched her left arm, giving him her signal that she was all right. 

 

The tension coiling his body released just a bit, then he watched her stealthily remove the earbud and tuck it between the cushions of the couch before she followed Roman toward the elevator. As they suspected, the masked men began an inspection of the buyers, making sure they were clear of any weapons and recording devices, like phones. Roman and Marlena passed inspection, but that meant they were going into the next stage blind. 

They all did. 

He no longer has a link to Marlena. 

 

“Roger, stay here and keep on that signal,” he said. 

“Just in case—” He confirmed before he completed his thought. Just in case they lost them. That wasn’t an option. They all knew at any point; Tony could change gears, have the buyers toss the cards, switch course. But they just needed to be headed in the right direction… 

 

“We’re ready.” Shane’s gaze captured his, a hint of a question there. “Ready,” he answered. They were ready to go in and pull off the biggest bust he’d ever been a part of with only three officers of the law and one civilian. 

 

But it was what was on the line that assured they would succeed. Roman and Marlena were traveling to the pick-up destination. 

 

He drove while Shane tracked their movement. “They’re slowing,” he said, and he pulled back. “Just keep at a steady speed until I confirm they’ve turned.” After a few tense moments, he directed him onto a road leading toward an abandoned warehouse. His hands slick against the steering wheel, his adrenaline climbed. “We get Marlena out before—” 

“We will,” Shane assured. “Don’t worry, John. Roman knows the drill. He’ll have her out of harm’s way first.” 

 

A flashback of the mission to rescue Marlena from Maison Blanche barreled to the front of his mind. The waiting, his insides sick with anxiety every torturous second that passed. The pressure building right before they went in. 

The fear of not finding her alive… he drove the thoughts away. She was not a hostage. She was a part of the mission, and she was strong. 

She was strong then, and she was even stronger now. And then there was no more time for reflection as he glimpsed a blacked-out warehouse up ahead. 

No one talks. 

They’d gone over the plan—over and over. 

They all knew the drill. 

There was only one aspect of this operation that remained undecided. Whether it would be him or Shane that pulled the trigger to take out Tony, he had a feeling she was going to move first. Some kind of vigilante bullshit where she presumed she’d be protecting him—keeping him from committing an act that would haunt him for years to come.

 

He’d wrestled with this very thing for years because of his part with Stefano. If there was no imminent threat—could he kill in cold blood? 

Marlena’s picture was virtually burned into his retinas, he’d stared at it so long. He needed to see that carefree woman once again. He wanted to be the one who made her safe. 

 

Imminent threat: he guessed that was defined by the person who’s being threatened. Marlena would never be safe if Tony lived. 

His connections ran too deep, his reach extended too far. They were operating below the department’s radar because they didn’t even know how far that reach goes. 

How high up. 

He’d made his choice. 

He made it the first time he shook Marlena’s hand in the hospital. 

She was his to protect

 

John parked in a heavily shrouded section of the gravel parking lot. The cars that transported the buyers there from the hotel had parked up close, the buyers already inside the warehouse. 

John unclipped his holster and pulled his gun free, then unlocked the safety. He heard the gun click to his right; Shane prepared. He turned around to see Bo doing the same. An unspoken countdown commences, and they exit the car on the beat of three and jog toward the warehouse. 

The trill of crickets and brush of wind through the pines were the only sounds accompanying them as they advanced. Once they were in place, backs to the building, the faint muffle of voices bled through the metal wall. The side roll door had been left open, and he motioned in that direction. He led them around the building, conscious of the gravel with each step. They stopped every few feet and listened. 

Then proceeded. 

Halting near the metal beam of the roll door, he raised his hand, holding it steady, waiting for Roman’s signal. The low voices inside die down, the warehouse stilled. A creak of a door, then the distinct, distorted voice they herded during the auction. 

Roman didn’t have to warn them; Tony was there. 

He dropped his hand. 

They rushed in. 

There was an ephemeral moment of dread, suspending time around him in a morbid limbo, until he locked on to Roman, rushing Marlena toward the side of the warehouse. 

Fractions of a second. 

Those split atoms of time could last an agonizing eternity. 

He breathed. 

Time speeded up. Instinct kicked in. 

He shouted, “Hands in the air!” His voice ricocheted around the building. The echo bounced back at him before the chaos hit. “On the ground! On the ground!” 

Several of the civilian buyers hit the floor, the others broke out into a run. 

He dropped to the floor. 

 

Shane and Bo followed suit and hit the ground as the first bullet rang out. He sighted his gun on the perp, opened fire and pulled the trigger, taking out his calf. He dropped and grabbed his leg. 

He was already locking on to the next perp before his scream recoiled against the gunfire. “Stop!” And just as suddenly as the shooting began, it ended. The masked men pulled back their weapons. 

His breathing ragged, John tried to steady his breaths so he could hear past the ringing in his ears. He scanned the back of the warehouse and quickly assessed the numbers. 

Nine suited men scattered against the ground and side of the warehouse. 

Four masked men: three standing guard around seven huddled women, one wounded on the floor. 

Roman and Marlena were safely out of sight. 

Then one shadowed figure stepped forward. “Freeze!” he shouted. 

The person halted, but only a moment before they leisurely progressed closer. “I’m unarmed,” he said. 

The voice was no longer obscure. “I’m sure we can work this out without any more bloodshed.” 

“Tell your men to drop their weapons and kick them forward,” he ordered. The man stepped into the beam of moonlight streaming from outside. 

“You heard me,” he said. “Lower your weapons and kick them forward.” His men did on command. The clatter of guns hitting the floor all in unison set his jaw. As soon as the weapons were out of reach, he glanced behind him, taking Shane and Bo into account. 

They were uninjured. 

 

He got to one knee, keeping his gun aimed on the man in a black suit, and then rose to his feet. “Tony. You’re in charge of this operation?” Hands held aloft, he maintained the smirk on his face. 

A face he’d seen many times before. 

His black hair was slicked back, neatly cropped. He showed no fear of the gun pointed at his head. 

“I am,” he said, his voice dropping low. “And I assume you’re the one in charge of your operation, brother—” he nodded to the three of them “—and I assume because you’re not backed by a task force or the FBI, then you’ve come here as part of your own agenda.” 

 

His hand gripped the gun tighter. His finger braced over the trigger. He heard the decock of a gun, a bullet chambered. The click resounds loudly in the still room. 

It was not my gun; it was Shane’s. 

Now or never. 

If he didn’t pull the trigger, he would. 

“No argument there, I see.” He tilted his head. “So tell me, what do you want, John? More money? Women?” He looked over his shoulder at the girls before finding his gaze again. “Advancement in your career. Name it. I promise I can make it happen.” 

 

There was only one way for him to give him what he wanted. He curled his finger over the trigger… 

“I want my wife,” He demanded. 

His dark eyes stared into his. “Your wife?” A smile lit his face. “Unfortunately, you won’t find Marlena here. I promise, I’m a man of my word.”

He didn’t blink. 

John looked him right in his eyes as he squeezed… 

 

“Lower the weapon!” 

 

His finger halted mid-pull, his hand trembled with restraint, and he knew this was his last chance— “I said, lower the gun, John.” 

He recognized the voice. In his peripheral, he spotted an ISA agent moving into the center of the warehouse. The sound of booted feet trampling the scene reverberated through the building as the ISA raided the warehouse. 

A ruckus of shouts and collection of weapons and apprehending the masked men…all while he still has his sight laser-focused on Tony.

“John.” His voice was steady, calm. “You’re better than this. It’s over. Lower your gun, and let’s bring him in. The right way.” 

He released the trigger and pulled back his gun. A searing breath gripped his lungs as he sucked it down. Then he forced his eyes away from Tony. He looked at the Agent as Tony was taken to the ground and handcuffed. 

 

“Just what was the plan, John? Would you have pulled that trigger?” He didn’t avert his eyes, but he didn’t give him an answer. 

He was not sure he had one. He rubbed his forehead. “No, you’re right. We should’ve trusted each other enough to work together. This could’ve gone bad. It didn’t…but next time, we really should work together.” 

 

Next time. 

 

Because Tony wasn’t dead. 

 

Teeth clenched, he glanced back at Shane. “Take Marlena. Go home, John. Sleep. Get some perspective. We’ll take it from here.” He turned his back on him and headed toward their car. He’d heard enough. While the others were debriefed, he leaned against the hood, arms crossed over his chest. 

He didn’t mind waiting alone. 

Roman was the first to be released. Unfortunate for him. He pushed off the hood as he strode away from the group. To his credit, he walked directly toward him, even though he should have been running in the opposite direction. He did stop a good distance away, though. 

He definitely should do that. 

Smart bastard. 

 

“Roman-” he attacked first.

“I just wanted to say…” Roman started, driving a hand through his hair. His whole body was tense. “What happened back there. In The Firm…I didn’t mean—” John stepped up to him and cupped the back of his neck, bringing his head next to his. “I owe you a dick punch. But it’s not happening tonight.” He patted him on the shoulder. 

Hard. 

He wanted Roman sweating just when that punch was going to come for a good, long while. “Marlena’s safe.” 

His gaze wandered to where she and Shane were wrapping up with the ISA agent. “For now, that’s all that matters. You protected her.” John met his eyes. “For that…thank you.”

 

His shoulders deflated, the fear still evident but dissipating. “I’ll take that punch like a man when it comes.” 

Yes, he would. 

 

Once the agent released the rest of their team from debriefing, they met them at their car. Hope still had an arm anchored around Marlena, shielding her from the chaos. He was acutely jealous of that touch, that protection she was offering her, and he didn’t hesitate as he stole Marlena away and wrapped both arms around her, tucking her close to his body. She shivered against him. 

“I still don’t understand what happened,” she said. John stared at Hope from over the top of Marlena’s head. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart; come on; I’m taking you home.” he gathered her under his arm.