40. Drama King
Chapter 40
Drama King
Giordano
Damian and Xander’s eyes scan the five computer screens.
We are able to track his car all the way to an intersection directly on the corner from her place of work. The location soon disappears after hitting the interstate. There’s no way of knowing where he’s taken her.
Twelve hours.
Twelve fucking hours she’s been missing.
My phone vibrates and I pull it out faster than I can blink, hoping by some grace of God it’d be her. Saying she’s okay.
Moglie
I got it.
Got what?
Where are you?
The girl.
Attachment 1 image.
“ No !” I roar, dropping down to my knees. The image of her tied up in the chair covered in bruises, cuts, and mascara-filled tears smeared across her face. Seeing my Antonella in this condition strengthens the rage burning through my veins.
He hurt her. Figlio di puttana .
“Xander,” my voice cracks.
“Giordano, what’s going on?” He looks past the monitor, completely devoid of emotion.
“Cillian hurt her.” I toss my phone to him. I blink my tears away as his jaw clenches tight—scanning the photo of my love. He swipes up on the photo.
Why would Cillian do this to her? My poor, beautiful, amore. She’s done nothing to deserve this.
“He made a mistake. Good for us. Very… very bad for him.” Xander laughs.
“What do you mean?”
“Get your dramatic ass up off the floor and in the car.” He sneers. Xander’s too cold sometimes. He doesn’t comprehend the whole love emotion.
“What happened?”
“He left the location on the photo he sent.” Xander smirks, jingling his keys in one hand, and types something in on his phone with the other. He whispers, “S tupido. Antonella’s smart for leaving it on . ”
“Xander, I could kiss you right now. Ti voglio tanto bene.” A sob breaks through my chest.
“Don’t.” He huffs. “Damian, stay on this end, we’ll need you for back-up. Eyes and ears!” We hurry out of the room and over to the parking garage.
Don’t worry, baby, I’m coming for you.
“You have eyes?” I whisper.
“Eyes on,” Xander says through my earpiece. He’s waiting back in the car in case shit goes south and we need a quick escape.
“You have ears?” I whisper as I make my way through the back alley behind the abandoned warehouse—where the location pin dropped on the photo.
If she’s still here. It’ll be a miracle. Please, still be here.
“How else would I have answered your question? You asked it backwards, coglioni.”
One man’s standing guard in front of a door leading inside the warehouse. He should be easy enough to take down. He immediately charges at me and I duck away from his punch, tripping him by one of his legs in the process. He falls to the cold, hard concrete ground underneath me.
“Forgive me for being a little nervous. I’m trying to find—” I huff. “My fucking —” I throw my fist up, punching him in the throat. Uppercut . Hearing the gurgling sound of the man choking on his own blood’s satisfying. “ Wife .”
“She’s not your wife,” Xander retorts.
Killjoy.
“ Yet .” I smirk as I take my gun out from my holster, click off the safety, and shoot him in the skull. Four times—two bullets remain in the chamber. If I weren’t busy freaking out over my amore, I’d play my murderspree playlist and be in a much better mood.
Positively dead.
“Stai Bene?” Xander laughs.
“No, stronzo . I don’t have her. I’m not even in the building yet.” I scoff, lift my gaze upward, and scan the area. Clear. There’s one door. I hop off of the dead man and reload my gun. Six bullets.
One entrance.
One chance.
I roll my shoulders back, grip my gun tight in my hand, and open the metal door with caution. Immediately, two more men stand in front of me with their weapons already drawn .
“Expecting me, are we boys? Andiamo .” I crack my neck, aim at one guy and fire a bullet—with the silencer on, of course. No need to be loud. Cillian doesn’t need to be aware of my presence yet. The bullet hits directly in the middle of his forehead.
Five bullets left.
I do the same for the second man charging at me. I’m not taking any risks. Happy I reloaded before coming in here.
“ Where are you, baby? Where would he hide you?” I whisper, scanning through the dark hallway. I should’ve brought night vision goggles.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Cillian chants from a distance.
He’s close, but not close enough to realize I’ve infiltrated his little mess of a building.
She’s hiding. Smart girl. Fight for yourself. Fight for us.
BANG !
“ No—o .” My eyes widen in horror. She can’t be shot. My heart’s palpitating like a bat out of hell. I have to find her.
A dark figure came up to my left faster than I anticipated, taking me by surprise. He punches me straight in the chest, knocking my body camera onto the floor.
“ Cazzo …” I grunt as my body camera becomes smashed into tiny pieces.
“No eyes,” Xander whispers through my ear bud. “What happened?”
“He broke it,” I whisper in an annoyed tone. He won’t be able to hear me. Why? My microphone’s in the goddamn. Body. Camera .
A flaw in the design.
With new rage, I punch the man in the face, hurting my knuckles in the process. Though he fights back. He punches me in the side of the face, knocking out the earbud—causing it to smash onto the ground. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hiss, watching the man step on it. “Unnecessary.” My nostrils flare out of pure annoyance .
Xander’s probably saying some dumb shit like no ears or something now, too—but I can’t hear him. My shit’s broken. I’m on my own. Hoping Antonella’s, in one way or another, finding her way out alive. Hiding, running—or quickly walking —somewhere.
“Don’t you have respect for other people’s property?” I glare at him while cocking my handgun.
His eyes fly wide open, quivering in fear as he lowers to the ground, raising his hands up.
“Who only brings their fists to a gunfight? Silly boy.” I shoot him in the skull. Right between the surprised, bushy brows. How many more motherfuckers stand in the way between l’amore della mia vita and I?
I have to find her.
I will find you, Antonella.
BANG !
Her scream echoes through the building. She’s right here. So close to me. The only thing separating us is this concrete wall. A sob bubbles in my throat, threatening to come out. But the anger flowing like fire through my veins is stronger, as I push on through the dark hallway.
I follow the wall as it curves to the right and finally—dim lighting in here, easier to see—I keep moving along. I fucking book it. My girl’s somewhere in here.
Alive .
She has to be.
A small, wooden door with a handle’s finally at the end of the hallway. My fists slam against the door, the vibration flowing through my forearms as it flings wide open. I know she’s here.
My heart drops into my stomach.
No .