"Good. Let's move."
Within an hour we'd turned one of Inferno's back offices into a command center.
Maps of New York City covered one wall. Red pins marking every known Caruso property. Blue pins marking recent activity. Yellow pins marking possibles.
Computer screens showing traffic camera feeds. CCTV footage. Facial recognition hits. Real-time data flowing in from dozens of sources.
Twenty security team members working phones. Following leads. Coordinating searches.
I stood at the center of it all trying to function. Trying to be effective. Trying not to fall apart completely.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. My chest was so tight I could barely breathe. Cold sweat soaked through my shirt. I'd vomited twice in the bathroom. Had to lean against the wall for five minutes just to stop my legs from giving out.
But I kept working. Kept coordinating. Kept searching.
Because Julian needed me. And I wouldn't fail him.
The first hour produced nothing. No sightings. No leads. The black van had disappeared.
Second hour: Traffic cameras picked up a similar van heading toward Brooklyn. We sent teams. Found it abandoned in a parking garage. Wiped clean. Another vehicle had been waiting. They'd switched. We lost the trail.
Third hour: An informant reported seeing Dante three days ago meeting with two men matching the description of thekidnappers. We tracked them to a warehouse in Red Hook. Sent a team. Empty. They'd been there but moved.
Fourth hour: Still nothing. No contact. No ransom demand. No communication at all.
The silence was worse than threats would've been. Meant this wasn't about money or leverage. Meant Dante had taken Julian for personal reasons.
Meant Julian was in immediate danger.
My control was cracking. I'd put my fist through a wall during hour three. Matteo had to physically restrain me during hour four when another lead went nowhere.
"You need to breathe," Matteo said. Holding my shoulders. Forcing me to look at him. "You need to stay functional. Julian needs you thinking clearly. Not spiraling."
"I can't—" My voice broke. "Matteo, he's got him. Dante's had him for four hours. Do you understand what that means? What he could be doing to him?"
"I know. But you falling apart doesn't help Julian. What helps Julian is you being the best security expert in this city. You being smart and strategic and ruthless. So breathe. Focus. And find him."
I breathed. Forced myself to calm down. To think.
Dante wouldn't kill Julian. That didn't fit his obsession. He wanted Julian alive. Wanted him under his control. Wanted to break him. Own him. Finish what he'd started at sixteen.
That meant Julian was alive. Probably drugged. Possibly hurt. But alive.
I could work with alive. Could find alive. Could save alive.
"Okay," I said. "I'm okay. I'm focused. Let's keep working."
Fifth hour: Stefan found something.
"Real estate purchases," he said. Pulling up records on the main screen. "Caruso family shell companies have beenbuying properties in New York over the past six months. Small transactions. Under the radar. But there's a pattern."
"What kind of pattern?" I moved closer.
"All the properties are residential. Isolated. Either warehouses converted to living space or large houses in quiet neighborhoods. Not their usual commercial holdings." Stefan highlighted several addresses. "These three were purchased in the last month. All under different shell companies but the ownership eventually traces back to Caruso interests."
"Where are they?"
"One in Staten Island. One in Queens. One in the Bronx. All in areas with low traffic. Few neighbors. Perfect for keeping someone hidden."
