Chapter 38
Vienna
Now
She wasn’t there.
I knew it the second I looked at the window, before my brain had even had the chance to catch up and offer me a dozen reasonable explanations to soften the blow.
The room was dark, not just unlit but empty in a way that felt wrong, like something had been removed from it rather than simply being absent, and I found myself staring at it far longer than I should have, my eyes fixed on the glass as though if I waited long enough, if I stayed still enough, she might suddenly appear and prove me wrong.
She didn’t.
The curtains didn’t move. The light didn’t flicker. There was no shadow pacing behind the thin gap where they didn’t quite meet properly, no quiet shift of movement, no sign of life at all.
Just an empty room, sitting there like it had nothing to do with me, like it hadn’t been the one place I had watched for years, waiting for the smallest signal that she hadn’t disappeared.
My jaw tightened as I stepped closer, moving out from the darkness of the shadows without really thinking about it, my focus locked entirely on that window like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
I had come here for a reason.
I had come here to tell her to hold on, just one more night, just one more fucking night until we were ready.
The Devils were already moving. Calls had gone out to the other charters, men were riding in, weapons were being gathered, plans were being put into place with the kind of quiet efficiency that meant when we struck, it would be decisive.
Tomorrow.
Everything was set for tomorrow.
All she had to do was wait.
And she wasn’t there.
“Where the fuck are you?” I muttered under my breath, my voice low enough that it didn’t carry, but it still felt too loud in the silence.
I forced myself to breathe, to slow down, to take a moment and think.
There had to be an explanation. There always was.
This place was getting to me. Seeing Gabby with her bruises and having her so close to me lately was playing with my head, making me imagine things that weren’t there, making me think the worst.
She could be downstairs. She could be with her mum. She could be asleep somewhere else in the house. Nico could have her locked in another room. She could be—
I cut that thought off before it could go any further, because none of the options sitting at the front of my mind were good, and the longer I stood there staring at that empty window, the worse they became.
I moved along the side of the house, keeping low out of instinct, my steps quiet against the ground as I made my way beneath her window.
I’d stood here a hundred times before, hidden in the shadows, watching, waiting, taking whatever small pieces of her I could get without being seen.
It had always been enough. It had always had to be enough.
Tonight, it wasn’t.
I glanced up again, like something might have changed in the few seconds it had taken me to move, but the room was still dark, still empty, still wrong. There were no signs of a struggle—no broken glass, no blood, nothing.
But that did little to reassure me.
Because from what I could see, all traces of Gabriella had been scrubbed from this room.
My hands curled into fists at my sides, my pulse starting to pick up in a way that had nothing to do with the cold air biting at my skin.
“Think,” I muttered to myself, dragging a hand down my face.
This wasn’t the time to lose my head.
We had a plan.
We had men moving.
We had eyes on this place.
We knew the cameras were useless now. If the Riders had found them—and we were almost certain they had—then they would have been destroyed before we could get anything off them. But we had other resources. After the ambush today, Dante had put the motions in place.
“I came to tell you to hold on,” I said quietly, more to myself than to her, because there was no one there to hear it. “Just one more night.”
The words felt useless the second they left my mouth.
Because whatever had happened here, whatever had changed… it was done. It had already happened.
And I was standing here, a step too late.
I exhaled slowly, forcing the tension out of my shoulders as best as I could, even though it didn’t really go anywhere. It just settled somewhere else.
This didn’t stop anything.
It just changed it.
Tomorrow was still happening. The other charters were still coming. We would storm this clubhouse and release everyone being held here by force.
I turned away from the house, jumping down from the balcony and heading back toward the trees without looking back again, because there was nothing left to see.
“She’s not there,” I said under my breath as I reached my bike.
And I found myself unable to start the engine. Unable to go back to my club and get help.
Every second counted. And I didn’t have many to waste.
I climbed back off the bike, and headed back to the house.