“Izzy?” The hope in my voice sounds hollow, even to my own ears.
A sigh comes from Rafael on the other side of the phone. “Sorry, Sir. Looks like they switched vehicles. Couldn’t have been long ago. This one was torched—hasn’t been burning for more than an hour.”
“Get a team to sweep it. I want every inch combed for evidence—anything that could tell us where they’re taking her.”
I hang up, my head dropping to my chest.
Pain flares inside me.
Where is she? What’s happening to her?
The images flashing through my head are unbearable. She’s already been through so much. How much more can she take before it breaks her completely?
My phone rings again.
“What?” I snarl, not checking who’s calling.
“Oh—Is now a bad time?”
Carina.
I close my eyes. Take a breath.
“Izzy’s been kidnapped.”
A tiny gasp sounds in my ear. “Oh… Enzo. What do you need?”
“There’s nothing you can—” a thought comes to me, “actually—is Kai there?”
“Yeah, hang on, I’ll put you on speaker.”
There’s a shuffle and whispers.
“How can I help?” Kai asks, his tone controlled.
“If I send you some information, can you look into someone for me. Any hidden properties they might have, known associates, anything that might help me find Izzy.”
“Of course, all I need is a name.”
“Marcus Whitfield.”
“You need to sleep, son.”
I push Papa’s hand off my shoulder. “I need to find Izzy.”
He doesn’t flinch. Just watches me steadily.
“You won’t be any good to her running on fumes. Get some rest. Keep looking in the morning.”
My mouth opens, ready to argue. But he’s right. My eyes are heavy, my thoughts a fog. I nod, reluctantly.
The moment I step into the bedroom, her scent hits me. Honeysuckle. So her it physically hurts. My knees nearly give out.
I drop onto her side of the bed, exhaustion dragging me down.
That’s when I notice it—her nightstand drawer is slightly ajar.
I’m not the type to snoop. But I need something. Anything. Some piece of her to hold onto.
