Page 197 of Bleed with Me

Unknown number: Come alone, Nina. If anyone follows you, the child dies.

Another message arrived a second later with an address in an industrial district outside the city. I stared at it, forcing air into my lungs. Panic wouldn’t help Aryna. I had to act.

My first choice was still Dorian. My husband would tear New York apart the second he learned our girl was missing, but if he was operating, he might not see anything until it was too late. I had to gather the army without him.

I opened the locked drawer beneath Grandpa’s desk and removed the small tracking device Lucas had given me. The tracker was no bigger than a coin. I slipped off my shoe, lifted the thin inner sole, and pressed it into the hidden space beneath my heel. Then I created a secure group chat with Lucas and Malin. Thankfully, both were online.

Nina: Aryna was taken from school. I think Sonny did it. I’m going to her. Track my location. Do not approach until I confirm she is there.

I attached the tracker identification number and the address. Three dots appeared beneath Lucas’s name immediately.

Lucas: Don’t move. We need backup.

Nina: No. Find me first.

Malin’s reply came a second later.

Malin: Tracker active.

Nina: Keep Dorian away until you know that Aryna is inside.

Malin: He’ll kill me.

Nina: Better you than her.

Lucas: Matteo will help.

Malin: Zyon and Karen were informed, too.

Nina: Just tell them to keep their distance. If they see them, she dies.

I switched off the phone before either of them could argue and placed it inside Grandpa’s desk. The tracker in my shoe was all they needed.

I grabbed my gun, hesitated, then secured it beneath the waistband at the back of my pants. They would search me, but arriving completely unarmed would be stupidity, not bravery.

Ignatio stood outside the office when I stepped into the hall.

“Where are you going?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Meeting.” I walked past him.

“I’ll drive you.” He followed me to the elevator, almost running on his short legs behind me.

“No,” I refused curtly, shaking my head.

“Nina,” he grumbled.

“This is something I need to handle alone.” I held his stare, forcing my expression to remain calm.

“You’re a terrible liar.” He pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Courtesy of my father.” I forced a smile, stepped into the elevator, and he followed.

“Does your husband know?” he asked, scowling at my reflection in the mirror.

“He will,” I sighed.

That answer confirmed every suspicion on his face. He opened his mouth, but the door in the underground garage opened, and I stepped outside, raising my palm to stop him.