Because if what Neri said is true, Erin is in danger.
“Thank you,” I manage, though my throat is tight.
Every second feels like a countdown. The images from the file blur in my head—bound wrists, bruised faces, hollow eyes.
And all I can see isher. Erin. In one of those photos. Erin, stolen away by that monster. Erin, terrified, alone.
The fear hits hard. Harder than I expect. It squeezes my lungs, chokes the calculated control I live by.
Because if Baranov has her…
No. I can’t let my mind go there.
Iwon’t.
I'll gut that monster before he can even think of touching her.
“You going to make it loud?” Neri asks.
“If he’s touched her?” I growl. “I’ll make it biblical.”
He nods once. “Good hunting.”
I don’t waste a second. I’m out the door before the file even settles on the table.
The ride back to my place is a blur of city lights and rising dread.
Something’s wrong. Ifeelit.
When I step into the penthouse, I already know what I won’t find. Erin.
No scent of her shampoo lingering in the hallway. No sound of her laugh. Just cold silence.
Then I see the note on the kitchen counter.
Luca,
I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye, but Jack’s in danger. I have to try to help him. Thank you for everything—for last night, for this morning, for making me feel like I mattered. Please don’t hate me for going. I hope I get to see you again.
E.
Fuck.
I crumple the note in my fist and bolt for the elevator.
Twenty minutes later, I’m pounding on the door of Erin’s shitty Bronx apartment. It swings open and someone I assume to be Jack is standing there, wide-eyed and pale.
“She’s not here,” he says immediately.
“Where is she?” I growl.
“I…I don’t know. She called and said she was on her way. Then… then they came.”
“Who?”
“Viktor’s guys. They,” he is trembling. “They grabbed her off the street. I tried calling the cops, but they said she probably just ran off. They don’t care.”
I grab the front of his shirt and slam him against the wall, but I don’t hit him. Not yet. “She came because ofyou.”
