I see Ronan hesitate for a moment. “I’ll let you know,” he says finally. “But Simone needs you, too. I have Elio here, I trust him to help. I’ll keep you posted.”
There’s a moment’s silence, and then Tristan answers reluctantly. “Alright. But the minute you need me, I’m on the plane.”
“Of course. Thanks, brother.” Ronan pauses. “I’ll call you back soon.”
"Thank Christ you're here," he says when he sees me, standing stiffly, as if his back hurts from being hunched over the desk for so long. "I need someone I can trust to coordinate the search."
The words hit me like a knife between the ribs.Someone he can trust.If only he knew.
"What do we know so far?" I ask, stopping in front of the desk to look down at the map.
"Not much." Ronan runs a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up at odd angles. “Leon said she went out to dinnerlast night with Desmond fucking Connelly.” His jaw clenches, teeth grinding together. “I had no idea they were… anything. Friends? Seeing each other? Jesus fuck, I’m going to get him here and question him until his ears bleed. They went to a fucking club, and then Leon said she called him and told him she was spending the night in the city with a friend. Which fucking friend, she didn’t say. He said he didn’t like her going alone, but she said she’d call him if she had any reason to feel worried. Talked him into letting her go by herself.” His jaw clenches, teeth visibly grinding. “Fuck, this is what happened to Siobhan all over again. Not enough security, getting herself into a situation where…”
“Breathe,” I say as calmly as I can, looking at him. “This isn’t the same thing. Annie didn’t have any enemies. Rocco is dead. We can question Desmond, like you said. There’s no one that you know of who wants to hurt the family, right?”
“Not that I know of,” Ronan says heavily. “So yeah… it should have been fine. I suppose. But it clearly fuckingwasn’t?—”
I can hear him building up again. “When did Leon say she texted to say she was spending the night in the city?”
“After midnight.”
I nod, making mental notes even though I already know exactly where Annie was after midnight last night. She was in my living room, broken and traumatized, while I helped her clean blood from her skin.
"Security cameras?"
“I’m going to get someone to pull records from the restaurant they went to and the club. Leon has no fucking idea who she was supposed to be spending the night with. I’m going to fucking kill him—” Ronan lets out a harsh breath. “He should have fucking called me sooner. Someone must have gotten to her on her way to her friend’s?—”
Fuck, Annie. I let out a sharp breath through my nose. This isn’t her fault—could never be her fault—butgod, she should never have gone anywhere without telling Leon exactly who she was going to see. I know where she is, thankfully, but if I didn’t?—
Guilt floods me as I realize that for me, this is a good thing. The harder it is to track Annie’s movements, the longer it will be before Ronan narrows anything down, and the longer Annie will have to decide what she wants to do. Which, hopefully, won’t be long.
The sooner this nightmare is over, the better. For everyone.
“There are no leads.” Ronan tugs at his hair again. “I don’t know where the fuck to start…”
He trails off, and I can hear the fear in his voice. The terror that Annie is already dead, and that we’ll never find her.
Except Annie isn't dead. She's safe and sleeping in a cabin in the woods. I know exactly where she is, and I should be telling Ronan right now. Begging him to understand why I didn’t blurt it out the moment I walked in, why I didn’t call him last night, why I didn’t tell him when he called me this morning.
"I'll start working through my contacts," I tell him, hating myself for every word. "Maybe someone saw them. Who are her friends? We can call them, ask if there’s anyone she was seeing or would have hung out with in the city.”
Ronan nods. "I knew I could count on you,” he says, and it feels like a knife to the chest.
The next hours pass in a blur of phone calls and meetings, each one adding another layer to the web of lies I'm spinning. I reach out to any contacts I can think of who might be able to help, shed some light on any feuds or grievances that could have caused a kidnapping, going through the motions of a search I know will yield nothing. Every dead end feels like a small betrayal, like a knife twisting deeper.
By late morning, Ronan is starting to unravel. He's more than worried, he's terrified. And seeing him like this, knowing I could end his suffering with a single sentence, is torture.
I could tell him the truth, and it would all be… mostly fine. He’d be furious with me for dragging it out this far, but maybe he’d understand.
Annie would never forgive me. Shebeggedme to wait. To give her time.
I feel like I’m being torn in fucking two.
“Maybe this wasn’t connected to the family,” I say finally. “There’s non-mafia crime in the city. You pay off the cops, right? Maybe this is the time to bring them into it. Maybe this isn’t entirely our wheelhouse.”
Ronan stops pacing and fixes me with a stare that makes my blood run cold. "If someone hurt my sister, I'll burn this city to the ground to find them. I don’t need the fucking cops."
I believe him. And that's exactly what Annie is afraid of.
