It’s an old phone. Barely any signal, but I’ve been able totrack it. It’s coming from a remote location. It’s about 10 miles away from the bunker we discovered not even 24 hours ago.
I blink, a cold heat rash running down my spine. My heart starts to race.
It could be him.
The words echo in my head, and the cold heat of fear spreads across my skin. My pulse accelerates, and my thoughts scatter.
Aslanov.
The adrenaline hits like a rush of ice water, jolting my entire system. Every nerve is on fire, my senses overloaded, and my mind, my mind is scattered, trying to hold everything together. The weight of everything that’s happened, all the grief, the fear, the unanswered questions, suddenly crashes down on me. I feel it all; the loss, the uncertainty, the ache of missing him, of not knowing where he is, of not knowing if he’s still alive over the past months.
I’m going there now. Send me the address.
I hit send, my breath shallow as I wait for his reply. A moment passes, then another. My finger hovers over the screen, the urgency growing with each second.
No, you’re not. I have no idea who or what we might find there. It could be a trap, it could be worse. I can’t trust any of the men around me right now, so I’m going, alone.
I type quickly, my anger flaring.
I’m coming too. And if you don’t send me that address, I’ll find my own way. Don’t think for a second I’m going tosit here and wait while he could be out there.
I can feel my pulse throbbing in my throat as I hit send.
Dress warm. Be ready in 20 minutes. I’m coming to get you, and only you. No one else is joining.
Chapter 50
We’ll Have to Do It Afraid
Isabella
The black Maserati roars to life, its engine purring like a living thing as Dominik grips the wheel with a tension I can feel even without looking at him. I settle into the seat, my eyes fixed straight ahead, watching the road stretch out into the blackness. It’s a strange kind of silence that fills the car, a silence that hangs between us, thick with anticipation and fear.
I’m sorry Ada, but I have to do this.
The headlights cut through the night, illuminating only the dense forest surrounding us. There’s nothing but trees, shadows, and the endless stretch of asphalt leading deeper and deeper into forgotten woods, miles away from any trace of civilization.
The air feels heavy in the car, pressing down on me as we move further into the unknown. Every mile, every second, feels like it’s taking us closer to something I’m not sure we can handle.
The tension is palpable. Dominik doesn’t look at me, his eyes locked on the road. But I can see the tightness in his jaw, the way his knuckles are white on the wheel. His body is rigid, coiled like a spring, ready for whatever might come. I can feel his thoughts, even if he doesn’t speak them.
What are we going to find?
The question weighs on both of us, though neither of us daresto ask it. What could be waiting for us out there? A broken man? A trap?
Or worse.
A dead man?
In the backseat, a black bag sits open, its zipper hanging loosely as if it’s waiting for something to be taken out. I don’t need to look inside to know what’s there. Guns, a first aid kit, all the things you’d need to keep someone alive, and also the things you’d need to cage them or, if necessary, end them.
I let out a quiet breath, gripping the edge of my seat. The car continues to eat up the distance, the hum of the tires on the asphalt the only sound in the car, broken only by the occasional crackle from the radio that Dominik hasn’t bothered to turn off. The atmosphere is thick with unspoken words.
It’s going to be early morning by the time we arrive, but the world will still be dark. Dark like the unknown. Dark like whatever we’re about to face.
Hope.
Dread.
