“Stay in control. One step at a time,” Dom mutters.
I try to breathe, but every inhale feels like pulling air through cement.
My heart hammers a brutal rhythm against my ribs.
Why did I let her walk out?
Why didn’t I just stop her?
Why didn’t I follow through with my plan and just take her, lock her up? At least she’d have been safe.
Pissed. Hating me. But alive.
The fire escape on the side of the building catches Dom’s eye. “There, our way in,” he murmurs.
We move like shadows, crouching low. We climb the rusty metal ladder, and the catwalk creaks under us as we reach the second floor, overlooking a massive warehouse.
The stench of blood hits me first. My nerves are strung so tight, they feel like they’ll snap.
And then I hear the fuckface’s voice.
Vincenzo’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade, sharp and vicious.
“The whore had a bag packed. Money, clothes, fake IDs. She betrayed us and was about to run.”
A pause. My pulse drums in my ears.
“I don’t know why the Barkov fucker would run, too.”
“No, no sign of him at all. I’d want to chew the Russian’s head off.”
Barkov.
My blood runs cold.
Did she tell him? Did she warn him?
Did she even think of me?
Then rage explodes out of him, wild and ugly.
“Don’t you fucking tell me otherwise!” He roars into the phone, the sound echoing through the warehouse, before smashing it against concrete, shattering into pieces that scatter across the floor.
And then he turns toward Leanna.
I let out a nearly inhuman growl in response to what I see. Leanna is strapped to a chair, head lolled back, blood streaming from a long gash on the side of her face, one eye nearly swollen shut.
I can see the effort it takes just to breathe.
Vincenzo doesn’t even give her a second to gather herself. He slams his hands against the wall, voice jagged with rage.
“Talk! Tell me what he knows! What did you tell Barkov? What does Barkov know? Why were you running? Was he with you?”
Every fiber in me wants to spring forward, begging me to move. My fists clench so tight my nails cut into my palms. I want to leap down, rip him apart with my bare hands to end this nightmare.
Who would do this to a family member, let alone his little sister?
My Ana.
