Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I have no idea whether the men are coming after me or letting me go.
My eyes dart wildly around me for a place where I can find safety. I don’t bother with the houses because no one will open up. In neighborhoods like this, it’s everyone for themselves.
I make it to a crossing, and not caring that cars are on the road, I dart across to the other side, reaching a business area.
Suddenly, the van swerves in front of me, coming to a standstill half parked on the sidewalk.
I change direction to run around the vehicle, but one of the men jumps out the driver’s side and grabs hold of my neck. I’m yanked to the side and slammed hard into the van.
Pain dazes me, and before I can recover, there’s a punch to my ear, disorientating me completely.
As I begin to sink to the floor, the guy hauls me over his shoulder. I hear a door slide open, then I’m thrown onto the steel floor.
Letting out a groan, my head feels like it’s going to split open.
My vision is blurry and sounds come and go before I lose consciousness.
Chapter 26
Dario
I roll my shoulders to ease the tension in them while my fingers keep flying over the keyboard.
“You’ve been at it for hours,” Renzo mutters behind me. “Take a break.”
“I’m fine.”
No, I’m not.
It feels as if everything we’ve done to this point is a waste of time.
Letting out a frustrated growl, I slam my fist down on the fucking keyboard. Standing up, I grab the two cell phones and stalk out of the office before I smash my system to pieces.
“Hey,” Renzo says as he comes after me. “You’re doing everything you can.”
I don’t reply as I take the stairs down to where the rest of the men are crowding my apartment.
Damiano’s sitting on one of the couches, busy on a call while side-eyeing Bella, who’s lying beside him.
“I don’t give a shit…no deal,” he growls into the line.
I pick up Bella and shove her into Renzo’s arms as I mutter, “I don’t trust Damiano with my baby.”
My comment draws a chuckle from some of the men, but then Damiano grumbles, “I already have your family. If you hurry, you can watch me kill them.”
He ends the call, then rises to his full height, his dark eyes locking with mine. “Find anything?”
I shake my head. “Nothing we can use. You?”
“Just spoke to Miguel. He claims his men didn’t take your woman, and another group that’s operating in Brownsville is responsible.”
His eyes flick to Bella, and I’m surprised when he pets her head.
Letting out a sigh, he carries on talking. “It doesn’t matter which group took her. By now, they could’ve sold her to get the money owed to them. It’s either that or she’ll be forced to work the debt off.”
My frustration and worry spike, and I snap, “We know that already.”
Suddenly the alarm on my phone sounds, and I quickly look at the screen. Seeing there’s been a match for Eden on a camera, I turn around and run back up the stairs. Bursting into my office, I grab a seat and enter the alert. It’s a clear image of Eden crossing a road.
Christ.
My woman’s alive.
Everything inside me stills as I stare at her terrified face.
It registers that she’s in underwear and barefoot.
In the fucking cold.
I suck in a harsh breath as I keep staring at her, then all at once, every destructive emotion I’ve felt since she was taken floods back.
A roar is torn from my chest as I shoot to my feet. Grabbing the chair, I throw the fucking thing against the wall.
The other men come rushing one by one into the office.
Renzo grabs my shoulder as I turn back to my system, and when my eyes land on the photo of Eden again, out in the fucking freezing cold wearing only underwear, the need to destroy everything overwhelms me.
Franco darts in front of me before I can get to the system.
“Breaking shit isn’t going to help,” he says. “Deep breaths.”
“You have proof she’s alive,” Renzo adds.
“Dario,” Damiano’s voice lashes through the air.
I suck in heavy breaths as the rage calms enough for me to think straight.
“Track that photo,” Damiano orders.
Franco gives me a cautious look as he moves out of my way.
“I’m okay,” I manage to breathe before I step closer to the desk and bring up a map of the area where the photo was taken.
Queens come up, and then it zeroes in on a crossing in Jamaica.
“She’s only thirty minutes away,” I mutter in disbelief.
She’s been right here all along and not at fucking sea.
The other four come closer to the monitors, and I bring the map up on the largest screen so we can see it clearly.
“How long has it been since the alert came through?” Damiano asks.