A quick search of the contents revealed stacks of cash, securities, and jewelry. If he was a thief, he’d hit the jackpot, but none of that was what he’d been after. At the bottom, he found a manilla envelope. Inside was a stack of photoprints showing crates stamped with serial numbers and a courier address; someone had been fencing goods, not running people.
“Damn waste of time,” he muttered in frustration.
“Problems?” Leland asked.
“Yes. Another dead end.”
“You’re sure? We were so sure it was Marco.”
“I’m sure we’re no closer than we were three fucking months ago,” Alec said, barely containing his rage. For this, he’d walked away from Emily tonight. He could combust later; right now, he needed to move. Carefully, he replaced everything in the same order, closing the safe and replacing the false floor.
“Get out of there. She’s at the gate,” Leland advised.
Alec was already on the move, erasing any sign he’d been in the study and leaving the door exactly as he’d found it.
His phone buzzed in his hand—Isabella’s name lit the screen.Where are you?
He typed without slowing.Emergency. Rain check?
Isabella:It’s ten o’clock! What kind of an emergency does an art dealer have at this time of night?
He could hear the shrillness of her tone through the text. Something it did whenever she didn’t get what she wanted.
Gunnar:My gallery is on fire.
Clearly not expecting that, she gave a genuinely shocked surprise.
Isabella:Dios mio!
Gunnar:This comes as no surprise. I have the devil’s own luck. I’ll call when I have things settled.
Evasive, not promising anything.
Not waiting for her response, he slipped through the conservatory exit Leland had marked and ran in a crouch, keeping to the shadows, avoiding the floodlights. Gravel crunched beneath his shoes as he exited the narrow service gate. It clicked shut a heartbeat before headlights swept across the drive. He didn’t look back.
He drove away, only then allowing the ache of seeing Emily to resurface. He wasn’t heading to the office anymore. He needed to see her—needed to know if she’d vanished again, or if, this time, she’d let him catch up.
Alec steered toward the Miami Convention Center. The parking lot was nearly empty when he arrived, the catering vans long gone. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel.
“Fucking hell!”
Even his favorite curse didn’t vent the frustration coiling inside him. He’d promised Ethan he’d keep her safe.Eight years later, she was still out there, on her own, and the weight of that promise pressed hard against his ribs.
Alec pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed as a migraine built behind them. They’d plagued him for months, ever since he got pistol whipped and lost his protectee.
That it was Cari, Dev’s fiancée, made it worse
The Denali crime boss had sent his best after her. Her own uncle had ordered her tied to a chair and tased repeatedly by an interrogation specialist to make her talk. She’d hadn’t broken. If she had, and the mob brutes got the information they were seeking, she’d have been dead.
The warehouse they pulled her from was a horror show—cages, blood, DNA traces from at least a dozen missing college girls. They’d stumbled onto a trafficking ring. For Dev, it was personal. For Alec, it was guilt. Cari had been his responsibility.
He woke up at County Hospital with a splitting headache and twelve stitches. But nothing hurt more than knowing she’d suffered on his watch.
In his career, ten years with the Miami PD and three as a PI with Denali & Associates, he’d handled dozens of protection cases without incident. But that week, he’d been chasing a new lead on Emily. She’d cut him out of herlife. He told himself it was none of his business, but sometimes,a memory or a familiar name was enoughto drag the questions back to the surface. Where she was. How she was getting by. And the haunting promise he’d made to Ethan.
He’d expected Dev to fire him. Instead, Dev gave him a second chance—with a warning: screw up again, and he was out. Clients paid for protection, not incompetence.
The dashboard clock read after midnight. Dev would be waiting. Alec pulled onto I-95N and hit the hands-free button.
