“Drone footage shows a black van leaving eight minutes after breach. No plates, no tags. Lost it near the docks.”
“He’s either underground or headed to water,” I mutter darkly, sliding the blade into my hip sheath, metal cold and comforting against my side.
Javi hesitates, voice tight, uncertain. “She didn’t have a tracker. No chip. We never…”
Because I fucking promised her privacy. Because I let love weaken me, break my rules.
A savage, corrosive guilt twists through my gut, sharp and vicious but I crush it down. Guilt is useless now. Emotions are pointless. Only violence matters. Only blood will make this right.
Only blood will bring her back.
I brush past Javi without another word, moving swiftly, violently, my body rippling with unchained fury. My men silently part, reading clearly what I’m about to become, seeing the truth written clearly in every ruthless step. No more masks, no more control. Tonight there are no limits, no mercy.
I turn sharply, barking commands into the darkened corridor. “Get the car. Load it, heavy weapons, drone surveillance, thermal, encrypted comms. Get Diego ready. We move in ten.”
“And if we don’t find her?” Javi’s voice cracks behind me.
I halt, turning slowly, meeting his eyes with a chilling calmness, my voice slipping into something low, primal, monstrous.
“Then we find every single man involved,” I promise, a lethal smile curling my lips. “And we start cutting until they give me her location.”
Camille
Darkness comes and goes.
Sometimes I’m floating. Sometimes I’m spinning. There’s a rhythmic pounding behind my eyes that won’t stop. My wrists hurt. My throat’s dry. I feel weightless and heavy at the same time.
The floor beneath me vibrates…metal. I’m in a van or something like it, and the air smells like salt, fuel, and mold.
My head lolls to the side.
Two men sit near the back doors, neither looking at me, both armed.
I try to speak, but my voice cracks like sandpaper.
My stomach turns violently, part nausea, part adrenaline, part something else that’s been building for days now. I curl my hand toward my stomach instinctively.
And for the first time in my life, I think:Please. Let Kane find me.
Because if anyone can tear the world apart to bring me home…
It’s him.
***
The van jerks to a stop.
Gravel crunches, metal grinds, then silence drops over everything like a curtain, smothering and absolute.
I suck in a breath, heart hammering violently in my chest, pulse roaring loud enough to make me dizzy. My wrists screamraw beneath the zip ties, skin rubbed bloody. My limbs feel numb, heavy, as if I’ve been bound for days.
A sharp bang echoes. Doors slam open. Footsteps, cold, purposeful, military-precise approach. My stomach knots tighter, my throat dry with dread.
The rear doors swing wide.
Sunlight crashes in, blinding, burning. I squint hard, eyes watering fiercely. Before I can adjust, a silhouette fills the doorway, olive skin, hard lines, ink crawling up his neck like a coiled serpent. His grip on my arm is brutal as he yanks me forward.
I stumble out, knees buckling onto rocky ground, wincing as pain jolts up my spine.
