"Enzo—"
"I need to find her, Rafael." I look at him directly. "I need to know where she is. Can you help me with that?"
He's quiet for a long moment.
"I'll try," he says finally. "But I can't promise anything. Matteo was serious about keeping her location secret. Only he and maybe Alessia know where she went."
"Try anyway. Please."
He nods. "Get out of here. Go somewhere safe. And I'll reach out if I find anything."
I get in my car and drive away from the compound with broken ribs and a split lip and the taste of failure in my mouth.
I don't look back.
Because looking back means seeing what I just lost and I can't afford to fall apart right now.
I need to stay functional.
I need to find her.
That's all that matters anymore.
Finding Isabella and making this right.
Even if it kills me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The car ride to the private airfield is silent except for the voices coming through my phone.
I'm in the back seat alone, two guards in the front who haven't said a word since we left the compound, and my phone is on speaker resting in my lap with Alessia and Bianca both on the line.
"You'll be safe there," Alessia says gently. "Matteo made sure of it. Good security, quiet location, somewhere you can rest and?—"
"I don't care."
"I know." Bianca's voice this time, softer. "But this is temporary. Just until things settle. Then you can come back."
I don't respond because we all know that's probably a lie, that temporary has a way of becoming permanent, that once I get on that plane I might not come back for months or years or ever.
"You have us," Bianca says firmly. "You have your brother. You have your family. That's not nothing, Isabella."
"I know. I'm sorry. I just?—"
"You don't have to apologize for being heartbroken," Alessia says.
The airfield appears ahead, small and private, just a single runway and a hangar and the jet waiting on the tarmac with its stairs down.
"We're almost there," I say quietly.
"Call us when you land," Bianca says. "Let us know you arrived safe."
"I will."
"And Isabella?" Alessia's voice is gentle. "This isn't forever. Things will change. They always do."
"I hope you're right."
