Chapter 94
**Torin POV**
The air thickens with brine-touched dampness, carrying the scent of ancient stone and saltwater. I come to an archway and I peek out at a squadron of my men with their rifles leveled threateningly, aiming at something I can’t see from this vantage point. I expose myself, roving down the stone pathway that slopes down sharply, leading to a massive iron sea gate. And now I see what the squadron is bracing themself against. A troop of my own poised against cartel combatants with Santos at the center with his notorious gilded cane in his grasp with his adorned hands lapped over the head in a kingly position like he’s in the possession of a royal scepter. My eyes spring to a gunman with the barrel trained on the back of Hadassah’s head.
“Nice of you to join us,” Santos welcomes.
“My invitation was delayed,” I say flatly with my eyes locked on Hadassah with a fierce expression, but her quivering jaw betrays her fear. “I’m surprised we didn’t run into each other sooner. Were you eyeing one of the auction pieces? I hear the Salvator Mundi by Da Vinci is going at an exceptional rate.”
He cracks a charitable smirk. “We both know what we came for is not on the auction list. It’s what you came for and what you so generously retrieved for me.”
“For you?” I question jeeringly. “That is generous, so that doesn’t sound like me.”
His smirk lengthens into a shark-like grin. “Course not. You’re a businessman. So here’s my offer.”
Without breaking eye contact, he lifts and turns the cane so it’s on its side before he extends the cane and the curve of the head hooks around Hadassah, and he tugs her closer to him roughly. He catches her, then holds out the cane so one of his men can hold on to it for him momentarily. His hand snakes up the high slit of her dress, disappearing and by Hadassah's shuddering gasp—I know exactly where his hand is going.
I step forward impulsively and the gunmen sharpen warningly as my squadron does the same.
“The book for the girl, or will that be a—”
I strip my blazer off, throwing it on the ground before I undo my shirt. But Santos’s hand still ventures deeper to the point Hadassah’s jaw clamps, her eyes batting erratically before she squeezes her eyes shut for a few hot seconds.
“Take your fucking hand out of the there or I’ll shoot you through her if I have to.”
He grins wickedly. “I see you’re not the sharing type.”
“Not when it comes to my property or that pussy.” I cast away my shirt to reveal the custom vest. I slide out the book and I flutter it in the air. “Get your fucking hand out.”
He slides his hand out grudgingly, then he pushes Hadassah forward so she staggers towards me. I hold out the book, ready to make the trade. A gunman walks with her so he can snatch the book from me and recede swiftly as Santos watches with a triumphant grin.
“I wouldn’t be smiling so much. It won’t be the first time I pilfer something from right under you. But this time, I’ll do it again with you looking.”
He takes the book with a victorious smile. “You’re welcome to try.”
As a collective, Santos and his men slink away into an alternate archway. I send a questioning look at a bleary-eyed Hadassah and she lets me know she's okay with a careful nod.
The gate itself is ancient, its iron bars corroded by centuries of salt spray, but still durable. Beyond it, we can hear the waves crashing against the rocks. Hadassah breaks into movement and my second goes with her. Together, they disengage the gate's hidden mechanism, the rusted gears groaning as the heavy structure begins to lift. The sea breeze rushes in, carrying with it the roar of the open water. She slips through the widening gap, emerging onto a narrow ledge overlooking a small, concealed cove as all follow in tow.
Below, the water stirs in a dark, restless churn, illuminated only by the pale moonlight reflecting off the waves. The cove is guarded on all sides by towering cliffs, their jagged edges a stark silhouette against the night sky. Waiting just offshore are sleek, black speedboats, their engines idling quietly. A contingent of loyal guards mans the boats.
My men move with swift precision. They help Hadassah down the rocky incline. My second gets too familiar with his hand on the small of her back before he hoists her onto the nearest boat. As soon as we’re all on aboard. I signal my approval and the guard in command gives a curt nod, and the boats roar to life, slicing through the dark waters with deadly speed.
The sea sprays up around them as they sped away from the cove; the palace shrinking into the distance behind us. The night is cold, icy winds lashing at my bare chest. The speedboats cut through the waves like knives, the sound of the engines drowning out all else.
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