The Handler #2

The Handler #2

I'm The Handler for the Bratva Mafia—I TIE UP LOOSE ENDS

Lucca

When a ship transporting seven highly valued assets is attacked and six of them stolen, leaving behind a dead security team and one witness, I'm brought in to handle the situation.

But this isn’t my usual clean-up job.

I'm an assassin, not a detective.

I'm handed a black-haired beauty who spits lies. I need to uncover the truth she is hiding in order to find the other assets.

There's only one problem—HER.

Everything about her calls for me to take her, but she is pure—untouchable.

A highly valued asset to the mafia.

One taste of her could cost me my life.

Evie

I was ten when I was stolen

Snatched by the sea

Taken to a world where virgins are put on pedestals—untouchable

Until they are sold

When six of the girls are taken and our private security team slaughtered, The Handler is called in to find them.

He's dark and dangerous.

Not a man I should trust.

But I have to trust that he can find them, and I'm willing to do anything it takes to get them back.

Once he finds them, I will make sure he sets them free, even if it costs me everything.

I’m ten again.

I can smell the salt that the wind carries along its long arms and dips into my hair, stirring the long strands. My lip tugs up painfully as the broken shells and small pebbles dig into my bare feet. My toes automatically curl around the pebbles to keep my footing.

I grip my hair and push it back while looking at the small light that shines in the cottage window, guiding me back to the warmth of my bed.

It’s tempting.

My dad always said the water called to me like a sinking ship called to the captain. He’s right. I know I shouldn’t be out here this late at night, but the salt on my lips has me stepping closer to the crashing waves.

My skin tingles with the whip of the harsh breeze and the anticipation of the ice-cold water. I’m walking faster. The smile on my face is growing. An excited scream I can’t hold in pours from my mouth and collides with the roar of the waves.

Water rushes over my feet, and I have a sense of belonging. Even at the age of ten, the water is where I am free, where I’m on an adventure. The water embraces me and bites me at the same time. Sound shifts as a wave takes me under, and I open my eyes. Nothing makes sense, really, but I know it’s the ocean. I know I’m being swallowed into a different world. My body grows weightless, and I let the ocean carry me along, the white spray of another wave rolling closer. I’d laugh if I weren’t underwater. I’m spun out of control, and I give myself over to the ocean. The surface splits above my head, and I take in a lungful of air as I ride the wave back to the shore.

I’m breathless with happiness and turn to the sea again. I’m ready to take another ride. I pause. An old wooden boat, which is bigger than a rowboat, moves across the waves too fast. Even at ten, I think it’s too fast. I can’t see anyone in the boat but watch as the waves raise it into the air like an Olympian raising a trophy.

It’s flung around as it rides up onto the shore, the impact against the stones nearly tearing it apart. The sea spits it out, and I wait until the waves recede before running along the shore to the wreck. My ten-year-old brain is excited about finding treasure inside the boat. The idea of a hidden message or even a hidden map has my small legs pumping faster.

A green tarp covers half the inside of the boat. Gripping it, I pull it back. I’m aware of the wave rising up again behind me as I pull the tarp off completely. A small body is curled up on the floor of the boat. Her legs are so white, and that’s what makes the red marks on her ankles so stark. Her frame lies motionless on the bottom of the boat. I think she’s my age, but I can’t be sure, as her hair covers her face.

I jump in, ready to pull her out, ready to help her, when the wave that I had forgotten about covers us both. I have a split second to reach out and grab her raw wrist before we’re lifted and dragged back into the sea. I know fighting with the ocean is pointless, so I try to allow it to take me.

This time, when we spin and shift, it isn’t like before. I’m afraid for the girl I have in my grasp. The water keeps us under longer than it normally does. My lungs burn, and I open my eyes to the darkened sea before my head collides with something sharp. I hold her hand until I can’t any longer, and I’m sinking.

I open my mouth to call out for my dad. Water pours in, and the burn in my lungs has me gripping my chest. That’s my last memory of home.