“Do you know where they met?”
She shook her head. “I only know they met outside New York City bounds. Vokshi complained once that the transit director wouldn’t meet him closer to the city.”
I pulled out my phone and texted our family group chat to look into the MTA—the Metropolitan Transit Authority—plus its director and his social calendar. If the Albanians were working with the MTA, that would explain how they got access to the subway tunnels.
Ximena leaned forward with a strange look on her face. “What does he look like?” Wynn googled his photo and held the phone out so they could all see. She nodded solemnly. “I knew it. I’ve seen him before.”
My eyes went wide. “Really?”
“There’s a nightclub in Philadelphia. It’s called The Obsidian. That was where I was being held when I finally got away from them.” Her eyes never left the MTA director’s face, but they took on a glazed look. “That’s where I saw him. Lots of other rich assholes like him, too.”
Claire gripped her hand. “Can you tell us more?”
Ximena closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “The club istwo stories. The first and second floors are just a regular nightclub. Dancing, drinking, some private rooms for parties and dances. Everything legitimate happened there.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But the basement…the basement is where they held us. There’s a long hallway with fancy as fuck rooms on each side. They locked us in, and we waited for our visitors to come each night. Even though they never told us anything, all of us girls knew we were the dessert after a business of gluttony. We were the prize for visiting.”
Rage crawled up my throat with every word she spoke. “You saw the director there?”
She nodded. “He was only one of the rich and powerful men they entertained.”
Wynn and I exchanged a glance. Buyers.
Ludmila nodded. “I heard them speak of this. Business happened at these clubs, at these parties. The men always came home drunk and high, laughing about how much money they made.”
If deals were made there, we had to interrupt them. Orik Vokshi and Ervin Vokshi were both dead, but the business had to continue. They wouldn’t stop, and they wouldn’t disappear. Our only option was to eliminate it entirely. The Obsidian was next in our sights.
There was no way Fallon knew this was happening, or she would have dealt with it. They must have kept the entire nightclub under strict silence. We’d need Ciel to look into it, and I’d have to tell Fallon that we wouldn’t let this continue. I’d need her permission to go after them on her turf.
Wynn rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought I was dealing with these locations. I didn’t realize I’d overlooked something so terrible.”
My palm found his thigh, but it was Claire who responded to him first. “That’s not your responsibility, Wynn. You can’t expectyourself to root them all out when you were working by yourself for so long. Willow told us how you worked yourself to the bone.”
His jaw clenched. “I should have caught on sooner. I should have helped sooner.”
“Shoulds only cause shame. You’ve done more for most of us than any other man in our lives.”
I squeezed his leg. “She’s right, Wynn. They are the ones in the wrong. You’ve done everything you could have, and then some.”
He gave a tight nod but didn’t respond.
“Ximena,” I said, turning back to her. “What’s security like at The Obsidian? If we wanted to, how could we get inside? Do you know?”
Wynn stiffened beside me, but he didn’t object. He had to be thinking what I was thinking.
She chewed her lip. “Security is tight. Two bouncers check names and IDs at the front entrance. They always had security staff watching all the exits. I got lucky that bartender found me in the bathroom and slipped out with me; otherwise, the guards would have locked me back up.”
A plan formed in my head.
“Do you still keep in touch with that bartender? Or could you get in touch with them?”
Her eyebrow raised, and her back straightened slightly. “Why?”
I gusted a breath, making eye contact with all of them. “I want to hit the club. I want to take them out, which means we need a way in.”
The corner of Ximena’s mouth pulled up. “I can try.”
Ludmila raised a hand tentatively. “Can I help?”
Claire smiled, then Penny. Both chuckled and raised their hands.
