At least they didn’t have her—yet.
I stared at the screen, the cursor blinking back at me.
She’d slipped through our surveillance.
That wasn’t supposed to be possible.
I stood up and started pacing. The Boston skyline blinked back at me through the glass window.
What the hell was I doing here?
I should’ve never left Manhattan.
Returning to the desk, I glared at the laptop screen. If I knew her, if I understood her even a little—which I did—she hadn’t run home. She was too proud, too stubborn. Too fucking determined to make something of herself in the theater world.
My fingers hovered over the trackpad. I zoomed in on my map of the Theater District again. I’d checked every known exit. Every alley, corridor, and sublevel.
Fuck.
It hit me then. She was a dancer—agile, small, and flexible—and she was used to backstage layouts. She could be hidden somewhere within one of the many small spaces.
I opened the renderings for the building’s original blueprints. Not just the public ones—the historical ones. They showed old sub-basements, connected properties, pass-throughs to rehearsal spaces, small theaters, and outdated maintenance corridors. Some of these weren’t even legal anymore.
Henri’s men were good, but this girl was better.
I checked the time—almost three a.m.
My eyes burned from staring at the screen, and my brain was foggy.
I had a meeting with the Irish mafia boss, Jack Byrnes, in five hours.
Because of course I did. Luca was riding my ass about helping to ensure the Irish families here in Boston were all in as loyal syndicate members. He’d wanted me to allay any of Jack’s worries about my part of this deal, since he had told Luca recently that he wasn’t so sure about working with a Russian Pakhan.
I rubbed my temples, trying to release the pressure building behind my eyes. I needed a couple of hours of sleep. Just enough to function. But I knew what I’d see the second I lay down.
Her face.
Her bright eyes, wide with fear. Her lips swollen from my kiss.
My fingers wrapped around her throat.
I sat back at the desk and typed a final message to Henri before I let myself crash.
Stay hidden from Delgado’s crew. Search every basement, boiler room, storage closet. She’s still there. I want hourly updates. No exceptions.
I hit send.
Then I leaned back and cracked my neck.
She could hide all she wanted.
But she’d never escape me.
Not in this lifetime.
Chapter twenty-one
The world didn’t stop because I was tired. A few hours of sleep was all I allowed myself.
