Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
No.
I have to be strong. I have to trust that Dante is taking care of him.
My mind is running in loops of terror and depressive sadness. Then I get angry again.
Why did those men take me? Are they going to leave me here to die? Is this Leander’s doing? Has my brother outsmarted Dante? I wouldn’t put that past him. Leander has always been sly. He’s a lot cleverer than he lets on.
If that’s the case, I’m done for. If the men are after the same thing Dante is, I may just have a chance of making it out of here alive, albeit a slight one.
Chapter
Six
Dante, present day
* * *
“Again.” I pace the floor of the dining room where my men are gathered around the table. I’ve put every asset at my disposal on the job. They’ve been here since we got home after the attack, working relentlessly with me on finding my missing wife. “Let’s hear it.”
Ulysses looks up from his computer screen, his cautious tone matching his serious regard. “We’ve been over this ten times.”
He thinks we’re wasting our energy, but he doesn’t give voice to that thought because he knows he may lose all his teeth if I plant my fist in his face or better yet, a bullet in his brain.
He recapitulates carefully. “Our time may be better spent on chasing other leads.”
He means well. He’s raising his honest opinion, wanting me to succeed as much as the next man in the room staring somberly at me. He doesn’t deserve to end up on my bad side for that.
I need to get a grip on myself.
I need to focus.
Tatiana’s life depends on it.
I fist my hands at my sides, fighting to rein in the anger that’s been mounting with every passing minute of our fruitless search. “We’re clearly overlooking something, or we would’ve had a clue by now.” Instead of bashing someone’s head in, which would be nothing but taking my frustration out on one of my loyal men, I pace to the window and flick my fingers at Kent. “Let’s hear it. Go over it from the start. And think hard. Maybe you left out something. I want every detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem.”
Reino leans back in his chair and presses his thumbs on his eyelids. None of us got much sleep during the last forty-eight hours. The men work in shifts, catching a couple of hours of shut eye when they can.
Only Kent looks as cool as a cucumber. He can go for days without showing any signs of fatigue, not even the bloodshot eyes most of us are sporting.
“I was holding the line in the front, covering your back.” His gaze rests steadily on mine. “When I reloaded my empty magazine, I noticed the back door was open. That’s when I realized Mrs. Teszner had run.”
I stop dead at that, the words flooring me every time.
She ran.
Again.
At the first opportunity that arose, she escaped me.
After what happened just before the attack, can I blame her? I dragged her out of the house and forced her into the car. I told her I’d make her tell me where she hid that necklace. I didn’t elaborate on the threat, but a person’s imagination could run wild with the insinuations.
Still, something feels off. Tatiana would never leave Noah behind. Maybe she’s planning on stealing him back later.
My chest tightens at the thought of my son. He cried himself to sleep last night, asking for his mommy. Remembering the oath I’d made to never lie to him or betray his trust, I had no choice but to tell him I’d lost her. I promised him in the same breath that I’d find her, and that’s what I’ll do.
Reino takes a gulp of his coffee. “We checked other street cameras, but none of them had an angle on our position.”
Which is why our attackers had chosen that spot to hit. They opened fire but quickly scattered when we gained ground on them. My men chased them to an underground tunnel with multiple exits where they lost track of them.
When the pilot got my drone to the location, they’d been long gone. If they’re worth their salt, they would’ve changed the number plates and spray-painted the vehicles in a few minutes. Trying to find the SUVs is pointless.
Forcing myself to focus and not to give in to the violence churning inside me, I turn to Ulysses. “Have you made any leeway on the identity of the attackers?”
I haven’t eliminated the possibility that Tatiana could’ve been their target.
He crosses his arms over his sleeveless jacket. “We still don’t have a trace on those fake number plates. The combat gear is available from any tactical supply outlet. So, no. I’m afraid we don’t have any leads there.”
Motherfucker.
The motive for the attack is still unclear. It could’ve been a rival organization, but they’d have to be damn stupid to hit on me without expecting to be crushed. Unless they’re some clueless rookies trying their luck. The city doesn’t lack idiots who think they can come in and steal some lucrative territory.