Chapter 23
23
h e master bedroom was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Michalis stepped inside, his tuxedo jacket slung over one arm, his tie loosened at his throat. The events of the evening replayed in his mind—the party, Aurelia’s radiant smile, the way she’d stood by his side, letting the world see that she was his.
For the first time in years, hope flickered in his chest. Aurelia loved him. She’d finally said the words he’d longed to hear. And the baby… He pressed a hand over his chest as he thought of their child. He imagined a life filled with laughter, family, and a love that could withstand anything.
But the moment he stepped farther into the room, a subtle wrongness prickled at the edges of his awareness. The bed was neatly made, the duvet untouched. He set his jacket down, his sharp gaze scanning the room. A faint movement caught his attention—a folded piece of paper propped against the vanity mirror.
Michalis’s stomach dropped as he crossed the room, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor. The note trembled in his hand as he unfolded it, his breath catching as his eyes skimmed the words.
Michalis,
I love you. I love you more than I can ever say. But I can’t raise a child in your world—a world you’ve admitted is too dark and dangerous for me to even know about. If you love me, if you love this baby, you’ll let us go. Please don’t try to find us. The only way we’ll ever be safe is away from this life. I’m so sorry.
The note slipped from his fingers, fluttering to the floor. He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Her words echoed in his mind, hollow and cruel in their finality.
For years, Michalis had kept the darkness of his world at bay, protecting Aurelia from the worst of it. He thought he’d succeeded. He thought they could finally have the life he’d dared to dream about. But now, the emptiness of the room mocked him. She was gone.
A sharp knock on the door jolted Michalis from his daze. He didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the crumpled note on the floor. The knock came again, louder this time, followed by the door swinging open. Dimitris strode in, his expression grim, followed by one of the guards.
“Michalis, we need to talk,” Dimitris said, urgency in his tone.
“Not now,” Michalis muttered, his voice flat.
“This can’t wait,” Dimitris insisted. He held up a small plastic bag containing a syringe. “We found this in the bathroom.”
Michalis’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “What?”
Dimitris stepped closer, his expression taut. “Tanya Morrow planted this during the party. We caught it on the security footage. She was supposed to drug Aurelia, but they didn’t get the chance.”
Michalis frowned, his mind racing. “They didn’t need to,” he said coldly. “Aurelia left on her own.”
“No,” Dimitris said firmly. “She was running, yes. But she ran straight into their hands.”
Michalis’s jaw tightened, denial warring with the gnawing sense of dread in his chest. “She left this,” he said, pointing to the note on the floor. “She doesn’t want to be found.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s running into,” Dimitris countered. He pulled out his phone, showing Michalis a clip from the security footage. Tanya slipped into the bathroom, pulling a syringe from her bag and tucking it behind a stack of towels.
Michalis’s hands curled into fists. “Where is she now?”
“We’ve been tracking David and Tanya since they left,” Dimitris said. “We’ll find them.”
Michalis pushed to his feet, his expression shifting from devastation to steely resolve. “No,” he growled. “I’ll find them. And I’ll bring her back.”
Michalis strode out of the bedroom, his movements precise and purposeful. He barked orders to his men as they hurried to follow him.
“I want every traffic camera within a hundred-mile radius pulled. Hack into private security feeds if you have to,” he commanded, his voice cold and sharp. “Get me a location.”
“Yes, sir,” one of the guards said, already reaching for his phone.
“To the team at the gates,” Michalis continued. “Get the make and model of the car they left in and cross-check it with toll booth records. I want the exact route they took.”
“On it,” another guard replied, breaking into a jog.
Dimitris kept pace with Michalis as they descended the stairs. “If they’re delivering her to Victor, they won’t waste time,” Dimitris said.
“They won’t get far,” Michalis snarled. “If they’ve touched her…” He didn’t finish the thought, the unspoken threat hanging heavy in the air.
“We’ll find her,” Dimitris said, his tone steady. “We always do.”
The hum of the SUV’s engine was a low growl beneath the tense silence inside. Michalis sat in the passenger seat, his jaw tight and his eyes fixed on the laptop in the console. A live feed from the traffic cameras played on the screen, the grainy footage tracking the black sedan that carried Aurelia.
“We’ve got them,” Dimitris said, his voice clipped as he pointed to a location on the map overlay. “They took a detour, heading toward an industrial park off the main highway.”
Michalis’s eyes narrowed. “That’s where they’re holding her?”
“It’s where they’ll hand her off,” Dimitris replied. “We need to move fast.”
Michalis grabbed his phone and barked into it. “I want the team in position around the target. No one gets in or out without my say.”
“Yes, sir,” came the crisp reply.
The SUV screeched to a halt as they reached the perimeter of the industrial park. The air was heavy with the scent of oil and rust, the faint glow of security lights casting long shadows over the empty loading docks and abandoned buildings.
Michalis stepped out, the cool night air biting against his skin. His men were already in position, their dark uniforms blending into the shadows as they awaited his orders. Dimitris approached, a sleek assault rifle slung over his shoulder.
“We go in hard and fast,” Michalis said, his voice low but commanding. “Victor’s men will expect resistance, so we hit them before they’re ready.”
He turned to Dimitris, his gaze sharp. “You take the south entrance with Ajax. I’ll go in through the main floor. Clear every room.”
Dimitris nodded. “Understood.”
The first shots rang out as Michalis’s men breached the building. The sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the cavernous space, mingling with the shouts of Victor’s men as chaos erupted.
Michalis moved with deadly precision, his handgun steady as he cleared the hallway. The air was thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood. One of Victor’s guards lunged at him from a side room, but Michalis dispatched him with a swift shot to the chest, his expression grim and unyielding.
“Room clear!” Dimitris’s voice crackled through the comms.
Michalis pressed forward, his heart pounding as he neared the center of the building. Each step brought him closer to Aurelia, and the thought of her trapped, terrified, and vulnerable fueled his resolve.
Victor’s voice carried through the hallway, cold and commanding. “Hold them off! Don’t let them through!”
Michalis burst into the central office, his gun trained on Victor, who stood behind a metal desk. Two of his men raised their weapons, but Michalis’s shots were faster. They crumpled to the floor, leaving Victor alone.
Victor sneered, blood trickling from a gash on his temple. “Giannopoulos. Always interfering.”
“Where is she?” Michalis demanded, his voice a low growl.
Victor chuckled, the sound dark and hollow. “You think you can take her from me? She’s my daughter. She belongs to me.”
“Not anymore,” Michalis snarled. “Where is she?”
Victor leaned back, his smirk widening. “She’s already mine, Michalis. You can’t protect her forever. I’ll always find her.”
Michalis moved faster than Victor anticipated, slamming him against the wall with enough force to rattle the desk. “Not this time,” he hissed, his voice venomous. “Last time. Where is she?”
Victor’s cold laughter faltered, but before he could respond, Dimitris’s voice came over the comms. “We’ve got her. Northwest wing.”
Michalis didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger, ending the threat to his wife once and for all, then turned and sprinted toward the northwest wing, his heart hammering in his chest.
The lock on the steel door clicked, and the heavy door swung open. Aurelia sat huddled in the corner, her arms wrapped protectively around her belly. Her eyes widened as Michalis stepped inside, his gun still in hand, his body taut with tension.
“Michalis?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
He crossed the room in two strides, dropping to his knees in front of her. “I’m here,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re safe now.”
Aurelia’s hands reached out, clutching his shirt as sobs wracked her body. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out. “I thought I was protecting us. I didn’t know…”
“Shh,” Michalis murmured, his arms wrapping around her. He pulled her close, his hand cradling the back of her head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re safe.”
The ride back to the estate was silent, the tension in the car thick and suffocating. Aurelia sat beside Michalis, her hands trembling in her lap. She wanted to speak, to explain, but the words wouldn’t come.
When they arrived, Michalis stepped out first, his movements stiff and deliberate. He turned to one of his guards, his expression cold and unreadable. “Take her wherever she wants to go,” he said, his voice flat.
Aurelia’s heart sank. “Michalis, wait?—”
He cut her off with a sharp look. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”
The words pierced through her like a knife. She watched as he turned and walked away, his shoulders rigid, his hands clenched at his sides. Her tears spilled over as the guard gently guided her into another car.
“Where would you like to go, Mrs. Giannopoulos?” the guard asked softly.
Aurelia’s voice was barely a whisper. “Houston.”