Declan smiles. "Then you'll find out exactly what we do to people who aren't useful anymore."
He turns and walks toward the door, Killian following.
"Make yourselves comfortable," Declan says over his shoulder. "You're going to be here a while."
The door closes.
The lock clicks.
And I'm alone in a basement with Vittorio De Luca and the ghosts of every nightmare I've had for nine years.
I sink down against the wall and pull my knees to my chest and force myself to keep breathing.
They will come.
Enzo will come.
I just need to survive until they do.
I just need to breathe.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The call comes from Rafael.
I'm not sleeping. I'm sitting, staring at my phone and willing it to ring with news about Isabella, with anything that tells me where she is, and when it finally does ring I answer before the first ring finishes.
"Tell me you found her," I say.
"She's been taken." Rafael's voice is tight and controlled in a way that means he's barely holding it together. "The O'Rourkes grabbed her at the airfield. Took Vittorio too. There was a firefight, our guards are down, and she's gone."
The world stops.
Everything in my chest goes cold and sharp and wrong, and for a second I can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything except feel the panic rising in my throat like bile.
She's gone.
They have her.
The O'Rourkes have Isabella and she's back in that basement, back in that place that almost destroyed her, and I'm not there, I wasn't there to stop it, I wasn't?—
No.
Stop.
Breathe.
I force air into my lungs, force the panic down, force myself to be functional because falling apart right now doesn't help her, doesn't save her, doesn't do anything except waste time she doesn't have.
"When?" My voice comes out steadier than I feel.
"A few hours ago. Matteo just got the call. He's—" Rafael pauses. "He's losing his mind, Enzo. He's calling everyone, pulling every resource, trying to find her, but we have nothing. No leads, no intel, no?—"
"I know where she is."
Silence.
"What?"
