Breaking Conviction by Greer Rivers

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ascot blathered as Wes took notes on his iPhone. They didn’t know if the names Ascot was giving them were a pile of shit, but Wes would work his magic to see what he could find about each person.

When he was finished, Ascot fell back against his chair.

“Exhausted from telling the truth?” Devil asked, and Ascot glared at him before sighing.

“That’s it… that’s all I know.”

But Ascot hadn’t answered the question burning in Wes’s mind ever since Marco told him that Investigator Burgess was looking into missing women. And then the few women Naomi had pointed out from the list…

“Where do you get the women?”

Ascot hung his head and blew out a breath. “It’s been harder in the past couple of years. We used to have a consistent supplier. There was a group that helped us… erm… procure slu—” Devil growled, “—women… who’d come to them. They’d take them and distribute them. It was genius, really. No one was ever the wiser. But everyone in that supply chain is gone. We’ve been having to make do, hiding in the shadows and finding willing women at our fundraisers and events.”

“‘Willing?’ That’s what you call them?” Devil’s pale skin was beet red with anger, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Wes couldn’t blame him. Ascot’s confessions were churning in his own gut like acid, bringing him to the brink of nausea when another question entered his mind. The timing of everything, how the traffickers had to resort to other means the past couple of years, what Phoenix had said…

“... hasn’t it ever occurred to you that maybe we’re the villains?”

“What’s the name of the group?”

Ascot’s eyes were focused on Devil’s tightening hands. “Wh-what?”

“The name,” Wes gritted out. “Of the group. What’s the name of the group where you got the women?”

Ascot nodded. “Oh, yeah… uh… I’ve never, uh, been the religious type, but it’s a weird Bible name.”

“The Rahab Foundation?” Wes breathed the question, knowing in his soul he was right.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it. The Rahab Foundation.”

“What?” Hawk sounded like he was in pain and disbelief. “That can’t be the name.”

The guy never showed weakness, but the implications of Ascot’s confession were a nightmare too terrifying to accept. When Jules and Nora had raised questions about the organization over a year ago, the BlackStone Crew had even swept their concerns under the rug.

The Rahab Foundation was the nonprofit that rehomed all the trafficked women they’d saved over their seven years in MF7. If that organization was in on this scheme, what the fuck did that mean? The thought that every woman they’d ‘saved’ had been sold back into slavery couldn’t be true… could it?

“So the Rahab Foundation took in trafficked women and did what? Sold them all back into sexual slavery?”

Ascot seemed uncomfortable with the question. Good, maybe he’s realizing just how fucked up that is.

“Well, I’m not sure about all the specifics. AIE—”

“AIE?” Wes interrupted. One of the first rules of interrogation was not to interrupt the person being questioned, but not only was he exhausted, this whole process had caused him to become too emotionally invested and he was hanging on by a thread. “As in AIE Securities?”

The same private security company Naomi’s ex-fiancé works at?

“No, Alea Iacta Est. Although Alea Iacta Est does fund AIE Securities. Most of the security firm is aboveboard, though. No, what I was going to say is that our organization was connected with the—Mitchell’s brother, and he was connected with the Rahab Foundation-—”

“Wait.” Wes’s breath froze in his lungs as he tried to keep up with the conversation despite his rapid pulse drowning out Ascot’s voice. “AIE Securities is funded by Alea Iacta Est? I knew you personally employed them as your bodyguards, but I didn’t realize the whole company worked for you, too.”

Ascot had the nerve to laugh. “It’s AIE Securities… as in Alea Iacta Est? It’s on our website and everything. Didn’t you do your research?”

Wes stepped back and tugged his hair on end, even though all he wanted to do was sink his fists into Ascot’s pretentious face.

Naomi’s ex works for AIE Securities. Naomi is back with her ex. Fuck. I have to warn her.

“Guys… I gotta go,” Wes mumbled, and Hawk tilted his head before following him out of the room.

“Everything alright?”

Wes narrowed his eyes. “No, I-I don’t have time to explain, but I’ve gotta go.”

He bolted upstairs, through the war room, and into the garage. In the blink of an eye, he was on the way to Naomi’s house. Trying to call her, but it went straight to voice mail each time.

“Fuck!” He tossed the phone in the passenger seat and slammed his hand on the steering wheel before scrubbing his face and massaging his eyes under his glasses.

It’d never crossed his mind that Naomi could be in on the trafficking. She’d have to have been one fucking hell of an actress to pull that off. The alternative was that she was completely in the dark, about everything, and knowing her ex was a manipulative bastard only contributed to that theory. Knowing she was with a man that evil chilled Wes to the bone.

He sped through town to get to Naomi’s house, trying to maintain his cool, but when his phone vibrated in the seat next to him, he practically leaped within the confines of his seat belt to see who was calling.

My Queen.

Naomi.

Without wasting a second further, he swiped his thumb across the screen to accept the call.

“Naomi, I need to talk to you. It’s about—”

“Wes?” The fear in the small little voice on the other end cracked his control.

“Princess T, hey… uh, is your mom around?”

A hiccup on the other end had him crushing his foot against the gas.

“Wes… Mommy needs you.”

A muffled scream sounded in the background and the call went dead.