Cian grunts. “I’ll call the others.” He hangs up.
Desperate, I pull up my tracking app, but every single device is parked right here. She didn’t take a purse, or even slip on a pair of shoes. Damn it, I should have put one in her ring—or better yet, beneath her skin.
My phone rings, showing an unknown caller. “Who is this?”
“Niall Bane. I have information for you.”
It’s about time. “Go ahead. I’m in a hurry.”
“Okay… Lazaro is mostly accounted for, but the Achilli brothers whereabouts are missing during all of the attacks. I want to look deeper into?—”
“It’s a bit late for that.” I scowl at the wall. “Unless you know where the fuck they’re hiding out?—”
“What’s going on?”
“They took my wife.” I hesitate. “And my sister.”
“When?”
“Less than an hour ago.”
“From where?”
“My home.”
“Stay on the phone with me, I’m getting your location.”
I frown down at my phone, why would Niall help me? We don’t even know each other. He doesn’t owe me a damn thing. Unless he’s still paying off his debt to Blake Baron.
But right now? I’ll take all the help I can get.
“Got you,” he says. “Okay. A black town car left from your garage thirty-six minutes ago, heading west. Go find yourself a vehicle, I’ll track them. You drive.”
I immediately sprint into action. Opening a hidden panel in my office, I grab a couple more handguns, a semi-automatic rifle, and as much ammo as I can carry in a duffle bag.
Taking the elevator down, I stash the bag in my Pagani, and reroute Niall’s call through the onboard phone system.
“Where am I going?” I bark into the dashboard.
“West. Then take a left at the third light.”
CHAPTER 52
Elena
Drowsy. Confused. I wake with a start. I don’t remember arriving anywhere, much less being drugged. I’m no longer in the trunk of a car, but shivering in what appears to be a walk-in freezer. A generator hums nearby. Low lights cast a blue hue in the space. An inch of what appears to be snow coats everything from boxes to unknown lumps on steel shelves.
Standing, I peel myself from the frozen floor. As I do, my shoulder bumps a hanging rack of meat.
Except as it slowly spins around, I come face to face with Julius Fabini. He’s blue. His face slack and frozen.
A scream explodes past my lips. I fumble backwards, knocking into a stack of crates. Adrenaline rushes through my veins, lending me a burst of heat that’s been depleted from my body.
The door creaks open. I spin, my pulse thundering in my ears. A cold sweat instantly freezes on my skin.
As the heavy door swings open, Lazaro Achilli steps inside, his gaze boring into mine. “You’re awake. Good.”
For the briefest of moments, I think Lazaro’s come to rescue me. He’s my husband’s underboss, he used to work with myfather, too. But it’s his sons who took us. And I doubt they’re working against each other.
