Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
She hesitates.
“Nicole,” I bark. “How long ago?”
“Five minutes.”
Fuck.
Dante starts running, calling out an order to the men who follow us.
I pull up Anya’s location on the app that tracks her phone. It’s ten minutes from here.
“Why didn’t she call me?”
“Raphael said she needed to go alone. Well, with Livy.”
Nicole carries on explaining about the tracker they planted on Anya. While she talks, another call comes in.
Livy.
“Fuck,” I say, my throat so dry my voice is hoarse. “It’s Livy. I’ll get back to you.”
Dante is already in the driver’s seat of our car. A guard gets the door on the passenger side for me.
I answer the call while I get in. “Livy, where are you?”
Her voice doesn’t falter. She comes across as a woman who’s unshakable. “I’ve got Claire. She’s safe. I’m heading home. Anya is still with Raphael. There are five men with automatic rifles. Raphael has a handgun. Glock. I didn’t get the caliber.”
I go stone cold.
“Did you get the location?” she asks.
My answer is brusque. “Nicole just sent it to me. I’m tracking Anya’s phone. I’ll dispatch a car to meet you on the way. Wait for them before you approach the house.”
“Got it.”
“Livy.”
She waits.
Dante pulls off with screeching tires.
“Take care of my baby girl.”
“I’ve got her, Sav. Go get Anya.”
“Fuck,” Dante says when I hang up.
I send an instruction to the team at the house to trace Livy’s route via her phone and to get protection to her asap. Then I type out a quick message to Nicole to update her. I want her to examine Claire when they arrive to make sure she’s okay. I tell her the guests can leave. I want every-fucking-body except for the guards out of my house when my girls get home.
“You holdin’ up?” Dante asks.
I clench my teeth so hard my jaw aches. Slamming a fist on the dashboard, I utter a raw cry. Pain shoots up my knuckles, sparks of electricity running through my bones. I barely register the ache. All I can think about is how angry I am with Anya for being so reckless. So stupid. For not letting me in on what went down sooner. For walking into Raphael’s trap. But most of that anger is directed at myself. For denying my feelings. For never telling her. For having waited too long.
Dante drives like a maniac, breaking every speed limit.
“That was a fucking dumb thing to do,” he says.
No. Anya got what she wanted. Our baby is safe. I know how Anya’s mind works. In her opinion, she did the only thing she could.
I can only pray we’ll make it in time. I’ll do anything to have another shot at this, just one more chance to tell her how perfect she is. That she was right. That I love her.
The dark outline of an old refinery comes into view. Knowing she’s inside there with the man who tried to blow us to pieces drives me insane. Imagining the things he could be doing to her right this very moment makes my blood freeze over. My bones feel brittle.
“We’re close,” Dante says, shooting me a sidelong glance.
Another few yards stand between me and my wife.
He puts his foot on the accelerator as a fence comes into view. We’re not going to stop to open the gates. We’re going straight through.
Just as I brace myself for the impact, an explosion blasts through the building, knocking roof plates into the air. Windows explode. Orange flames billow through every hole in the structure.
Dante swerves, almost driving us into a ditch. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
A second explosion rocks the warehouse. It nearly rips the framework apart.
I stare at the red and yellow tongues that lick the night sky, unable to process the sight. Unwilling to accept what’s in front of me. Refusing to believe that I’m too late.
Chapter
Forty
Anya
* * *
Raphael faces the laptop. “Give me the password.”
“Raphael Morelli.”
He looks at me with surprise. “I suppose the most obvious ones are the best. Everyone thinks they’re so obvious that no one will use them. That’s why I’ve been lying low at Obsidian while working on this genius plan.”
Clever. Raphael was right under our noses all along. No one would’ve thought to look there. Obsidian closed down a while ago. The loss of business that forced the move was my doing. Perverse pride swells my chest.
When he turns back to the laptop and starts typing, my muscles tense, gearing for action. I count the letters, every single one. I have to think quickly. Improvise. Honestly? I didn’t think I’d make it out. What happens now is the part of the strategy I couldn’t plan. There were too many variables I couldn’t predict. But I’ll be damned if I don’t fight tooth and nail to my very last breath.
“Can I take my sweater?” I ask, eyeing it where it lies on the floor. “I’ll remember better if I’m not so cold.”