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But she underestimated one thing.

I will always find her.

I start the engine, my car growling to life beneath me. The tires screech against the pavement as I tear out of the estate and into the darkening city.

My men are hunting. I am hunting.

The city unfolds before me in a blur of steel and neon, headlights streaking across wet pavement, the hum of late evening settling over the skyline like a thin veil. I take a sharp turn onto the main road, my tires screeching against the asphalt, my grip tight on the wheel. The streets are alive—cars weaving in and out of lanes, people moving in and out of bars, oblivious to the storm closing in around them.

The phone buzzes against my thigh again. I flick my eyes to the screen, my pulse hammering.

I glance at the screen, “Valentina” glowing in white against the darkened dashboard. And just like that, the realization hits.

Who would Sofia go to, if she needed help? Who would have the audacity to actually help her, knowing what it could get them into?

My fingers tighten around the wheel as I hit accept, bringing the phone to my ear.

"Tell me where she is."

A beat of silence. Then a slow, shaky breath. "Marco…"

"Don’t start," I snap. "You arranged the car. Where the hell is she going?"

"I don’t know." Her voice is thick with guilt. "I swear, Marco. I didn’t think she was running from you, not like this. She just asked for a car. No details. I thought she needed space, not?—"

I grit my teeth. "Not to disappear?"

She exhales hard. "Yes."

I cut through traffic, weaving between cars with ruthless precision. My patience is thin, stretched to its breaking point. "The driver—who is he?"

"Someone I trust," she says quickly. "Someone who asks no questions. He picked her up, and she’s going to tell him where she needs to go. That’s all I know."

My jaw locks. That matches what my men already found.

I grip the wheel tighter, knuckles white. "You have any idea where she’ll go next?"

Another pause. Too long.

"Valentina," I warn.

She sighs. "You know Sofia, Marco. She’s not going to make it easy. But…" She hesitates. "I don’t think she’ll leave the city."

That catches me off guard. "Why?"

Valentina hesitates again, and I can hear the words shewantsto say sitting on the edge of her tongue. But she holds them back.

I don’t have time for games. "If you know something?—"

"Just promise me something," she interrupts. Her voice is different now. "When you find her—because I know you will—you have tolistento her, Marco. You have to take care of her. And of what she wants."

My grip on the wheel tightens.

Valentina’s voice drops lower, almost pleading. "And if you can’t do that…if you can’t give her what she needs—then let her go."

The line clicks dead before I can answer.

My teeth grind, my pulse hammering.