Ace Olivera’s long, rangy body was sprawled in a chair. He’d been born in Brazil, but raised in the US. The guru of all things tech had his long, dark hair pulled back in a stubby ponytail. He’d spent several years at the NSA before Vander had lured him away.

“Hey, Easton,” the man said. “Nothing yet, amigo, but I’m working on finding your girl.”

Easton paced across the office. “You got them outside the bar?”

“Yeah. They loaded her into a sedan.”

Easton knew he was hovering, but he couldn’t stop. Every ping on Ace’s computer had him leaning over the man’s shoulder.

To his credit, Ace didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t long before Vander appeared in the doorway.

“Easton, you’re slowing Ace down, not helping.”

Fuck. He pressed a hand to the back of his neck. He hated this helpless feeling.

For a second, everything blurred, and he heard shouts and echoes in his ears. Knowing that a terrorist attack targeting US troops was imminent, but unable to get the required intel from the captured insurgent. The man had just laughed and laughed. Easton hadn’t been able to save them.

“Easton?”

He jerked, and met his brother’s gaze.

“Come with me.” Vander spun on his heel.

Easton followed Vander upstairs. His brother had a fancy electronic lock on the door, and he pressed his palm against it. It beeped and opened.

The entire floor was open plan, with only Vander’s bedroom and bathroom walled off. The place had an industrial vibe, with lots of natural wood and black iron. The sleek, modern kitchen was tucked into the back of the space, and accordion glass doors could be opened up onto the large roof terrace.

Vander didn’t have parties up here, or people over often. He guarded his personal space zealously.

Vander crossed the living area and went to a built-in bar. He grabbed a bottle of Scotch, poured two glasses, then turned and handed a glass to Easton.

“Here.”

Easton tossed it back and savored the burn.

“So, she’s the one, huh?”

Easton looked at Vander. “What?”

“Never seen you like this with a woman.”

Easton set the glass down on the coffee table. “Like what?”

“Like you’re a rottweiler, and she’s your favorite bone.”

“I’m not sure that flatters me or Harlow. I want her. Desperately. And I want her safe.”

Vander nodded. “Her father’s in deep, Easton.”

“I suspected as much.”

“Could be she’s using you for money.”

Easton paused, then laughed. “You think I can’t spot a user? I can pick them before they open their mouths. Harlow won’t fucking take anything from me because I’m her boss.” He straightened. “When we get her back, that’s going to change. Get her back, Vander.”

“I will.”

Vander’s phone rang.

Chapter Ten

She was trying not to freak out.