“Where is she?” I ask Nicole the moment I see her standing with the officer.
“There was a fire next door, and when we walked out, a water main burst,” she cries. “I was so focused on everything that was going on that I didn’t notice that she was being taken. I’m so sorry.”
“Fuck,” Matteo hisses.
I follow his line of sight and see Daniil’s lifeless body on the ground. A few feet away is Josh, the other guard assigned to Brielle—also dead.
“Did you see anything?” I ask her. “A certain color car? Was it a man or a woman who took her? Anything that could help?”
She shakes her head, trying to remember, when it hits me.
“I have another tracker on her.”
I pull out my phone and go to the tracking app I recently had installed. “They’re heading south on I-95. Let’s go.”
“How are you tracking my sister?” Matteo asks as we get back into my car.
“Her wedding band. I installed a tracker in it, just in case.” I click the screen so I can follow it on my dashboard. “With all this shit going on, I wanted to make sure I had another way to track her in case something like this happened.”
“That’s fucking smart,” Matteo says, putting his phone to his ear.
He calls Dominick first, letting him know about Daniil and Josh so he can handle it. Then he calls one of his men, relaying the direction we’re heading in so they can meet us there.
“They’ve stopped at the port,” he says. “Same fucking place they brought Dani last year.”
He calls his men working at the port and tells them to shoot first, but to make sure Brielle is safe.
“There has to be a reason they brought her there.” I increase my speed, flying around the cars that are going slower. If a cop wants to pull me over, he can do so once I’ve got Bri in my fucking arms.
“Yeah, whoever it is, is trying to send a message,” Matteo says slowly. “Carlos Santiago trafficked women before my brother shut him down. They held Dani in a cargo crate. They fucked with several of our shipments. And now they’re taking Bri to the fucking port. Fuck, why didn’t we put the pieces together before?” He slams his fist against the dashboard and then calls Eddy, asking him to pull the footage from the cameras in front of the studio and at the port so we can try to see who’s responsible.
There’s an accident on I-95, and I almost consider getting out and running to the port, but we’re too far, and it will take too long.
“The guys are saying they don’t see anyone there.”
Finally, the traffic picks back up, and I weave in and out of the vehicles on the road.
As we’re pulling in, Matteo’s phone rings, and he puts it on speaker.
“Boss,” his guy yells, “the cargo ship just crashed into the dock. Containers are everywhere, but we don’t see Brielle anywhere.”
“Don’t worry about the containers,” Matteo yells, jumping out of the car and running toward the docks. “Watch for my fucking sister! She has to be here somewhere.”
We get to the docks, and I glance around, trying to figure out where the hell she is. The dot shows she’s around here somewhere … and then my gaze lands on the other cargo ship leaving.
“Motherfucker,” I hiss, realizing the crash was another goddamn distraction. “She’s on that ship!” I yell at Matteo as I take off running down the dock.
They can’t leave without the port pilot guiding them out, so my only hope is to get on the pilot ship. Matteo catches up to me and hands me a gun. Then we both jump onto the pilot ship, along with three other men.
“Remember,” Matteo says as the pilot ship heads toward the side of the cargo ship, “my sister is on board. Shoot to kill, but make sure she’s safe.”
Brielle
My walls were down.
Everything had been going well lately.
For the first time in years, I looked forward to going home and spending my evening curled up with a man.
