Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

It’s the same woman who kicked Johnny in the balls in the alley. Only now, she’s no longer in jeans and a hoodie. She’s wearing a mid-thigh red dress that hugs her body in all the right places. Waves of chestnut hair fall to the middle of her back.

She’s so damn beautiful, but also... wrong.

How can someone change from a street fighter to a spitting image of Mist’s girls?

Something is fishy.

“Hey, Mist,” I say.

She pauses her battle with Shadow. “Yes?”

“Let me help with interviewing the new girl.”

“Really?”

My eyes squint at the top of the girl’s head, and I’m inexplicably glad to see her again. “Yes, really.”

Hello again, Firefly.





Chapter Three





The den of monsters in which Zoe disappeared has the form of a castle.

The club is three storeys high and sits on a large piece of isolated land in the suburbs of London.

Le Salon.

It’s labelled as a club and an entertainment parlour where rich and upper-class men come to talk and drink with girls. What they actually come to do is buy sex. It’s a side business and only aimed at specific, chosen guests, and sex isn’t always expected, but most of the girls working here are escorts.

Just like my Ma.

I tug on the hem of my too-short dress, fists clenching until my nails scratch the skin.

Ma’s life was my disgrace. I admired her strength for giving birth to me even when everyone said it would ruin her career. I loved her, but I swore I’d never be her. That’s why I trained every day since I was a little girl. I lifted weights, punched things, and bled my knuckles so I would never cross paths with what she did.

But here I am. In a similar place to the brothel I was born and raised in.

It’s all for Zoe.

My fingers go to clutch my bracelet but connect with skin. Strands of my hair get in my face as my head hangs. I can’t believe I lost my one remaining connection with Zoe. I searched for it in that alley like a lunatic. I even made Hayley help. There was no trace whatsoever. I would’ve searched for eternity, but then, I would’ve blown my first meeting with Mist.

So, I came here dressed in this mid-thigh, skin-tight dress and black stilettos. I’m still itching to throw these painful heels to Neverland.

“Hey, love.” A male voice drawls from behind me before an arm drapes around my shoulder.

I swallow down the reflex to elbow him, turn around and kick him in the bollocks.

If I want to be accepted into this place, I need to act the part. I plaster a smile on my lips and face the wanker who’s still clutching my shoulder.

He’s surprisingly young, about my age. That’s so unlike the old farts I expected to find in such a place. A fashionable denim jacket stretches over well-defined muscles, all complete with designer jeans. Twinkling blue eyes stare at mine and a smirk curves his lips. Add a square jawline and a playful gleam, and he appears straight out of a magazine cover.

Heat rises to my ears.

What’s with the good-looking guys I keep running into today?

Only that tattooed stranger from earlier was more intimidating than this one. At least, this wanker is reducing points by acting as if he knows me or something.

And he seems more approachable.

Perhaps I can use him?

“Hi.” I continue smiling.

“Are ye new here, love?” There’s a hint of northern Irish accent to his words.

His gaze roams over my body, pausing at my cleavage.

I try to appear innocent and swallow the urge to poke his eyes out. I don’t think appearing clueless is hard. Liam always says I appear docile until I start punching things.

My voice is tentative. “Uh... yeah. I think I’m lost. I can’t find the madam’s office.”

He places a hand on his chest, expression dramatic. “Ye’ve run into the right person. I’ll take ye there in no time.” He nudges me towards the huge double doors with an intricate, golden design. “I’m Kyle, by the way.”

“I’m Elle.” I decided to go with my real name. I’m unable to react to a name that isn’t mine, and it’s not like they can find anything on my background. I’m just a barmaid from the poor side of London. Just like most the girls who work here.

“That’s a grand name, love.” Kyle ushers me inside, the mischievous gleam written all over his face.

I roll my suitcase along, but Kyle tells me to leave it at the entrance. Someone will fetch it. As in, search it. But I pretend to be dumb. Smart people don’t survive in such places. At least not those in low ranks.

It’s still early for opening time, so I assume Kyle isn’t a customer. Perhaps he’s a guard? But wouldn’t those wear black suits or something?

Either way, Kyle seems like a good starting point in this mission.

Once we’re inside, I’m momentarily caught by the dazzling lights. The scent of lavender and jasmine intertwines so closely in the spacious hall. There are no customers yet, but the lounge area is crowded with cleaning staff who make no sound whatsoever. For an outsider, it would look no different from an elegant hotel’s reception area.

What happens upstairs, where Kyle is taking me, is an entirely different story.

As we ascend the stairs, two men dressed in black intercept us. Gangsters. Although bulky and tall, they lower their heads upon seeing Kyle. They stand near the wall and allow us to pass through before continuing their path.