It feels as though the ground is spinning around me, and I grip the table with white knuckles as I jump to my feet. “What?
“The Russians. They took her. One of our scouts saw it. They were dragging her toward the back of the property. I left Alfonzo to track their movement, but from the looks of it… whatever they had planned for her was not friendly.”
The air leaves my lungs like I’ve been sucker-punched.
I feel Miko’s eyes on me. “Leo?—”
“I left her,” I whisper. “I just left her there.”
No one speaks.
“Where are they now?” I ask hoarsely.
Marco checks his phone for an update and gives me a crossroads in the old warehouse district the Russians used to control before we pushed them back a few years ago.
“I’m going to get her,” I state, my feet carrying me toward the door before I even know I’m moving.
“Leo—”
“Don’t try to stop me.”
Miko steps forward, calm but firm. “We’re not stopping you. But we’re coming too.”
My brothers nod, even Raf, whose eyes still shine with grief. “We don’t leave family behind.”
Something cracks in my chest. Sora might have betrayed me, or she might not have. Either way, I won’t let them kill her.
Not while I’m still breathing.
35
SORA
They blindfolded me before throwing me in a van. I’ve lost track of time—how long we’ve been driving, how far we’ve gone. The leather seat beneath me is sticky with something—blood, I think, but I don’t know if it’s mine.
My wrists are zip-tied behind my back. Every bump in the road sends pain lancing through my stomach, and all I can think—over and over—isPlease don’t let it be hurting the baby.
Leo doesn’t want me. He made that perfectly clear. But the child growing inside me… this baby never asked for any of this. And if I have to crawl through fire to protect them, I will.
The van finally screeches to a halt, and I brace for impact, my breath catching in my throat.
A door rolls noisily open. Rough hands yank me forward, and the blindfold slips up my forehead slightly, revealing a warehouse.
Dim. Cold. Damp.
Steel rafters. Concrete floors.
One of the men—massive, bald, with a jagged scar bisecting his lip—grabs my arm and drags me forward. My heart hammers.
“You were right, Lenka. This will be better, not looking over our shoulders to make sure the Yakuza are watching.” The ringleader of the group leers back at me as I stumble behind him, barely able to stay on my feet. “Now we can take our time with her.”
From what I’ve gathered, the Bratva were supposed to be my family’s allies. At least, that’s what I thought.But now?Now, they look at me like I’m nothing but a plaything. It would seem that agreement only lasted until the Chiaroscuros fell.
“She’s feistier than she looks,” the scarred one mutters, shoving me down onto a chair. “Check if she’s packing anything.”
One of them pats me down roughly as another ties my ankles to the chair legs. My hands are still cuffed behind me. The room is unseasonably cool, but sweat trickles down my spine.
“She’s clean,” the man with the thick black beard confirms, straightening to stand beside his three companions.
