CHAPTER XIII
T he sky loomed overhead, a dense shroud of gray swallowing the sun. The private jet’s engines dwindled to a faint murmur as I made my way onto the tarmac, the cold air biting through my coat. I straightened my collar, my eyes cutting toward the jet.
Its door swung open, and Alphonse descended, his men flanking him like a pack of wolves.
“Nico,” he rumbled. “Didn’t think you’d come for me. Thought you’d send one of your men instead.”
I smirked and extended my hand.
He grasped it, his grip firm, and we moved toward the sleek black SUV idling at the edge of the tarmac. Miguel opened the door, and we slid into the back seat while his men filled in the cars behind us.
As the vehicle rolled onto the empty road, I turned to face Alphonse. “There’s been a new development.” I swallowed hard, forcing myself to confront the memories that clawed at my mind, the images seared into my consciousness.
Alphonse’s brow knitted. “What happened?”
I recounted the sickening images of Gigi.
He fell silent, staring at the road as if he could force the circumstances to change. Then, without warning, he erupted, fists pounding the leather seat before him. His howls of anguish sounded like a wounded animal.
“Stop the fucking car!” he bellowed.
Miguel pulled over to the side of the road.
Alphonse sat there for a moment, chest heaving, before he steadied himself, leaning forward with his head buried in his hands.
“There’s something else,” I said.
He scowled before yanking the door open and stepping out of the car.
I followed.
“Tell me,” he demanded, his fists clenched at his sides.
I went into what we found out about Lana. When I was through, he shook his head in disgust.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and hit the answer button, switching to speaker mode.
“Nico, it’s Enzo. We’ve located Davina. She was hiding in a women’s shelter.”
A chill slithered down my spine, freezing the blood in my veins. “Where is she now?”
“We received intel from our CI. She’s been?—”
“I don’t care about the details, Enzo,” I snapped. “Where. Is. She?”
“We need a strategy, Nico,” he replied, avoiding my question. “I’m not going to let you torture her without me talking to her first.”
“Fuck strategy,” I snarled. “Tell me where she is!”
“Damnit, just listen to me! We don’t know if she’s working for the Puppet Master or if she’s just a diversion to throw you off his scent. If we don’t have a plan, this could end badly.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, the cop is right,” Alphonse interjected.
I glared at him. “Are you serious? She’s your daughter. Do you think I’m going to sit here with my thumb up my ass forming a fucking plan while she’s still out there?” I gestured toward the road.
He matched my intensity, his glare unwavering. “I didn’t say that. Just like in any war, the soldiers come up with a plan so they’re not ambushed or get other innocent people get killed. You know this.”
“Every second we waste is another second he’s doing something to her,” I snapped.
Alphonse stepped forward, straightening his tie, his voice steady but filled with an edge. “I understand more than anyone. But you’re not a hero.”
My jaw tightened. “It’s not about being a hero.
I will do whatever it takes to bring her back home.
” I took another step closer, the distance between us shrinking.
“If I have to walk through fire to reach her, I’ll burn for her and endure the pain.
If I have to swim to the other side of the fucking Atlantic, I’ll face the risk of drowning without a second thought.
Nothing, and no one , is going to keep me from her. You hear me?”
He narrowed his eyes, his lips forming a thin line. “You’re willing to sacrifice yourself for her?”
My hands clenched into fists. “What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing?”
“Then where was this attitude before you let him take her? Huh?” Alphonse challenged.
“We’re still on that?” I asked, taken back by his question.
“Yes!” he retorted. “I will always come back to that because we wouldn’t be here forming any fucking plan if you’d gotten your head of your ass and hadn’t accused my daughter of something she didn’t do!”
As many times as I told myself how much I hated what I did to Gigi, I couldn’t take it back. And the more he threw it in my face, the more it weakened me. But I couldn’t be weak. Not now, not ever.
“I can’t change the past,” I countered. “But I can do everything I can to bring her back safely. And if I have to take a bullet to save her, I won't hesitate to jump in front of her."
“Why?” he pressed, searching my eyes.
“Because I love her with every fucking thing I have.”
After a long, charged silence, Alphonse nodded, a hint of respect flickering in his eyes. “We’ll do it your way,” he said. “For now. But if anything happens to her, I swear?—”
“Yeah, yeah,” I interrupted, waving my hand dismissively. “You’ll gut me like a pig.”
But even as I said it, my resolve softened. Alphonse was right. We had to be smart about this. The sand in the hourglass was being emptied, reminding me the time to save her was limited, and the thought of losing her for good was crippling. I wouldn’t survive it.
“Are you two finished with your bullshit and measuring your dicks?” Enzo’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Nico, I’ll bring Davina to you, but you have to promise to keep her alive. We need answers, and we can’t get any if she’s dead.”
The silence in the air thickened as I remained silent. Enzo’s frustration simmered over. “Nico. Promise me.”
“Fine,” I lied.
If Davina was even remotely connected to Gigi’s disappearance, there would be no mercy when I got my hands on her.