The blood matted in her blonde hair is too close to what Nicole’s blonde looked like after…
I stand at the window of the safe house, watching the sun rise over the mountains.
I haven’t slept.
Can’t sleep.
Not when every decision I make could mean the difference between life and death for the woman I love or her best friend.
Behind me, Sophia paces the length of the small living room.
I hear her footsteps, back and forth, back and forth.
She’s been doing this for hours, ever since we received Adrian’s message.
Twenty-four hours to deliver Sophia or Melinda dies screaming.
“We have to do something.” Her voice cracks with exhaustion and fear. “Mikhail, we can’t just stand here.”
I turn to face her, and my chest tightens at the sight.
Her black hair is tangled, her blue eyes red-rimmed from crying.
She’s wearing one of my shirts, the fabric hanging loose on her slender frame.
She looks fragile, breakable, and the thought of sending her into Adrian’s hands makes my stomach turn.
“I’m working on it,” I say, my voice rougher than I intend.
“Working on it?” She stops pacing and stares at me. “Melinda is being tortured because of me. Because I called her. Because I led them right to her.”
“This isn’t your fault.” She’d told me about the call. At first, it felt like a betrayal. But it wasn’t her fault. It was Elena’s.
“Then whose fault is it?” Sophia’s voice rises, sharp with guilt and anger. “She’s innocent in all of this. She doesn’t deserve what they’re doing to her.”
I cross the room and grip her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. “Neither do you. And I won’t let Adrian use you to settle his vendetta against me.”
“So we just let Melinda die?” Tears stream down her face. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“No.” I pull her against my chest, one hand cradling the back of her head. “That’s not what I’m saying. We’ll get her back. I promise you, we’ll get her back.”
She sobs against my shirt, her fingers clutching the fabric.
I hold her, breathing in the scent of her hair, memorizing the feel of her in my arms.
Because if this goes wrong, if Adrian’s trap works the way he wants it to, this might be the last time I hold her.
My phone buzzes on the table. I release Sophia and check the screen. It’s my enforcer Marco, calling from the secure line I gave him.
“Talk to me,” I answer.
“I’ve got eyes on the location Adrian sent.” Marco’s voice is steady, professional. “It’s an abandoned textile factory on the east side. Three stories, multiple entry points, but they’re all covered. I count at least fifteen men, maybe more inside.”
“Melinda?”
“Second floor, northwest corner. They’ve got her in what looks like an old office. Two guards on the door.”
I glance at Sophia, who’s watching me with desperate hope in her eyes. “Is she alive?”
