Chapter 49
Claire’s POV
“Hide,” Miguel said, his voice low but firm. He gestured to a narrow space behind the door. “Now.”
I didn’t move at first. My hand was already on my gun. I didn’t trust them—not completely. Not after what they just said. Not after learning Antonio had walked into Vera’s throne like he hadn’t sold her soul to the highest bidder.
But their faces were steady. Quiet. Hard.
And when the sound of the car door shutting hit my ears like a warning shot, I stepped into the shadows and waited.
The door creaked open.
Antonio entered, casual like he owned the place. A few of the crew greeted him like nothing was wrong. To my surprise—none of them said a word about me.
My heart pounded in my throat.
“How’s it looking?” Antonio asked, walking deeper into the room.
Miguel answered. “We moved the deal through last week. But it’s not enough. Without Vera’s offshore accounts and her top-level connects, we’re treading water.”
Antonio sighed, all false sympathy. “I know. I know. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. And Gabriel. They were like family to me.”
My fingers twitched on the grip of the gun.
Family?
It took everything I had not to burst out and put a bullet between his ribs.
Then he added, “I’m working on getting that missing information. It’ll change everything.”
My heart stopped. What information?
That meant something still existed. Something only Vera knew. Something he wanted.
She was alive. She had to be.
Miguel didn’t let it go. “You keep saying you’ll get it. But you’ve never once said how.”
A beat of silence followed.
I held my breath.
Antonio stammered slightly before steadying himself. “There were safehouses Vera kept off books. Places no one else knew. She trusted me with those. I’ve been checking them one by one. I think she kept her accounts hidden there.”
Bullshit.
But the way he sold it—with just enough feigned exhaustion, just enough “grieving leadership”—I could see how he kept everyone fooled. Almost everyone.
He glanced around. “I’ll keep you updated. Need to head back out.”
Then he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind him.
I stepped out from behind it.
Every eye turned to me.
“She’s alive,” I said, the words shaking out of me like a truth I’d been holding in too long. “I know it. He’s hiding her—or at least knows where she is. That’s why he’s sniffing around the safes, pretending to grieve.”
Miguel’s jaw clenched. “Then we’ll find out the truth.”
He turned to one of the younger crew and nodded. “Follow him. Quietly. Don’t engage. Just watch.”
The man disappeared out the side door in seconds.
Miguel looked back at me. His eyes were hard—but not unkind. “What do you want to do next?”
I blinked. “Me?”
He nodded. “You’re Jefa’s girl. That makes you the boss while she’s not around. If you can bring her back—our loyalty is with you.”
A murmur of agreement passed through the room. Nods. A few lingering glances, still unsure—but no one argued.
“I thought you didn’t like me,” I said, almost without thinking.
One of the men grinned. “We don’t.”
Another shrugged. “But you came back for her. That says everything we need to know.”
The weight of it hit me.
I wasn’t just her girl anymore.
I was the only one willing to bleed for her.
And now, they were willing to bleed with me.
I stood there, still catching my breath from the surge of adrenaline, the weight of what they'd just said sinking in. They were all looking at me now. Not with pity. Not with doubt. But with something closer to expectation.
“What do you want to do next?” Miguel asked, his voice steady.
I didn’t answer right away. I moved toward the center of the room, my boots echoing faintly across the floor. Then I looked at them—each one of them. Hard men, scarred men, people who once barely acknowledged me standing beside Vera.
They were listening now.
“No more waiting,” I said quietly. “No more watching Antonio make moves and pretending we don’t see what he’s doing.”
Miguel nodded once. “You think he’s keeping her somewhere?”
“I know he is,” I said. “The way he spoke about the information he’s trying to ‘recover’? Vera wouldn’t have left anything behind. No files. No backup. No goddamn notebook.”
“She never trusted anyone that much,” someone muttered.
“Exactly,” I said. “Whatever Antonio wants—whatever he’s trying to use to build this fake empire—Vera never gave it to him. Which means it’s still in her head. Which means…”
“He’s going to her,” Miguel finished, his voice grim.
A cold silence rippled through the room.
“He’s visiting wherever the hell he’s keeping her,” I said. “He’s probably trying to manipulate her. Break her. Get her to give up everything.”
One of the younger guys clenched his jaw. “But if she hasn’t talked yet…”
“She’s not going to,” I snapped. “Not unless she thinks it’s for someone she loves. Not unless someone makes her believe it’s her only option. That's why he was following me.”
And I couldn’t shake the look in her eyes that last night.
The way she held onto me like it was the last time.
The way she would have taken a bullet for me—and nearly did.
“We need to track him,” I said. “Every place he’s visited in the last two months. Every route. Every pattern. If he’s going back to her—he’s leaving a trail, even if he doesn’t realize it. There is no way he is working alone, if he was loyal to Leo then we can assume he has backup.”
Miguel nodded slowly, then looked around the room. “You heard her. We’re running full recon starting now. If Antonio has Jefa—we take back what’s ours.”
I looked down at my hands. They were still shaking, but only a little.
Because I had a purpose now.
And I would burn through every piece of Antonio’s empire to get her back.
Vera’s POV
Time bleeds together—pain, sweat, silence, repeat. The walls never change. The light never shifts. There are no windows, no clocks, no names.
But I hold on.
Barely.
Some nights, I think I’m losing it. My thoughts spin in circles too fast for me to catch them, and I start to think maybe Antonio’s already won. Maybe he broke me without laying another hand on me.
And then I see her.
Not really. Just… in the back of my mind.
Claire.
Her voice. Her stupid sarcasm. The way she used to stand too close when she wanted something, chin tilted up like she wasn’t scared of anything—even when she was.
Her laugh. That tiny, smug smirk when she said something sharp and waited for it to land.
Her fingers brushing mine in the dark.
I think about the way she used to look at me—like I was a puzzle she was determined to solve. Like she already knew the answers but wanted to hear them from my mouth anyway.
I don’t know if she thinks I’m alive.
I don’t even know if she’s safe.
But the part of me that hasn’t gone numb yet—the part still alive under the bruises and fever—refuses to believe she gave up.
She wouldn’t.
Not her.
If there’s anything left of me that matters, it’s because I’m still hers. And I know her well enough to know that means something.
So I keep breathing.
I keep waiting.
Because Claire was always the unpredictable one.
And if anyone can burn a city down to find me—
It’s her.
Claire’s POV
The map was a mess of circles and red ink. Miguel had spread it out across the old table, his finger tapping locations as he listed them one by one.
“These are the places Antonio’s been seen over the last three weeks,” he said. “Same car. Same rotation. Mostly low-traffic. He stays no longer than an hour at each.”
I leaned over it, scanning each mark. Some names I recognized immediately—Leo’s old safehouses. Rat holes where he used to store stolen tech and bodies. I circled two with a pen.
“These are his,” I said. “Leo’s men are likely regrouping here. If Antonio’s still holding onto pieces of their crew, that’s where they’ll be.”
Miguel nodded. “And this one?”
He pointed to a location up north. No name. Nothing familiar. But something about it stuck—just off the highway, tucked behind an industrial zone. Thirty minutes from where Vera’s car supposedly went off the cliff.
I stared at it.
Everything in my gut twisted.
“That’s where he’s keeping her.”
Miguel looked at me. “You’re sure?”
I didn’t look away. " It’s close enough to be convenient and remote enough no one would stumble across it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You want to send a team to recon?”
I shook my head instantly. “No. If they see us coming, they’ll move her. We lose our shot.”
Miguel crossed his arms. “Then what’s your call?”
I took a breath. It didn’t shake.
“We split into two teams. One goes to the safehouses Leo’s men are holed up in—hit them hard. Take them out while they’re relaxed, before they can reinforce Antonio.”
“And the second?” he asked, though he already knew.
“I’m taking that one. To the compound.”
He gave a slow nod. “When do we move?”
I pulled out my phone. “As soon as I make a call.”
He stepped back, no questions asked.
I walked toward the far end of the warehouse, where the static from the overhead light couldn’t echo in my ear. I hit Valeria’s number and waited.
She picked up on the second ring.
“Claire?” Her voice was sharp, demanding. “Where the fuck are you?”
I didn’t waste time. “I found her.”
Silence.
I swallowed. “Help me get her out.”
Another beat.
Then Valeria’s voice dropped, all fire. “Where?”
And just like that—
I was getting my girl back.