Chapter 43
Axel
Chaos tastes like smoke and copper.
I shove through the panicked crowd, elbowing past some useless socialite in sky-high heels who’s too busy filming on her phone to get the hell out of the way. Finally, I reach the back hallway.
“Nik!” I shout.
“In here!”
His voice cuts through the noise, sharp and clear. A moment later, I’m at his side. His jacket’s gone, shirt sleeves rolled up and stained dark red. My vision tunnels to the body on the floor. The blood blooming beneath it like spilled ink.
For a second, it’s my mom I’m seeing. Same stillness. Same blood.
“Axel!” Nik barks, snapping me back to reality.
I shake my head. Kneel down next to them.
“What happened?”
“He’s alive,” Nik says, “but unconscious. Shot once in the side. Ambulance is on the way.”
I stare. “He was shot? Jesus. How bad?”
Nik shakes his head. “Too early to tell. But he was bleeding fast when I got here.”
That’s when I notice it—he’s holding his tux jacket tight against the wound, trying to stem the flow.
Glancing around, I see the room’s a mess. Shattered window. Knocked-over chair. Blood smeared across the carpet.
And Lina’s gone.
I feel it in my gut before I even ask.
“And Lina?”
Nik meets my eyes, but doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.
Standing, I rake a hand through my hair and turn in a slow, useless circle.
“Security?”
“Useless,” Nik snaps. “Most were paid off or scared shitless. The power was cut before the shot. Cameras wiped. It was a clean job.”
My jaw clenches.
This wasn’t random. This was a hit. A snatch.
Joe took her.
My hands curl into fists at my sides.
She walked into that wedding like a goddamn goddess. She was glowing in that dress. Scared, but willing to help for the greater good. Braver than anyone else in the room.
And now, she’s gone.
Because we let her be bait.
Because we said yes to this fucking plan.
Johnny’s fucking plan.
Nik shifts and pulls out his phone. “We need eyes everywhere. Traffic cams. Underground chatter. I don’t care if we burn through every favor we’ve got. We find Joe, and we end it.”
I nod, but it’s hollow. Nothing feels like enough. Not until I see her again. Hear her voice. Know she’s breathing, fighting, still Lina.
“Where’s Johnny?” I ask, noticing his absence.
Nik’s expression darkens. “He was in the west wing, getting ready. No one’s seen him since the shot.”
“So either he was taken too…”
“Or he’s chasing the bastard who took her,” Nik finishes, leaving no room for arguments.
I want to believe that. I need to.
Because the third option? The one where Johnny knowingly let her get taken again in pursuit of his brand of justice?
I’ll kill him myself.
The EMTs burst in, swarming Sean. Nik backs off, stepping away with blood still on his hands.
I move beside him at the door.
“Let’s go,” I say. “We’ve got a small window, and I’m not wasting it.”
Nik nods and takes off.
I take one last look at Sean—pale, still, bleeding. I whisper a prayer I don’t believe in that he’ll be okay.
Then I follow Nik.
He’s already on the phone with Volk. I’m calling every name I’ve ever collected, every ghost in the dark that might know where she went.
We already lost her once.
And I swear, I won’t let it happen again.