56. Santo
Chapter 56
Santo
I ’m driving faster than I ever have.
And it’s still not fast enough. The road stretches out before me—endless, swallowing the distance between me and her in an ominous black void. I push the accelerator down, harder, my knuckles bone-white on the wheel.
My heart slams against my ribs, a relentless war drum, every beat screaming…
Vasilisa. Vasilisa. Vasilisa.
The city lights blur to the left. The dark waters roar to the right. The road ahead is nothing but shadows. Beside me, Angelo is speaking—watching the surveillance feed of my home on my phone. But his words barely register.
“They got in.”
His voice is like a sledgehammer to my ribs.
Everything inside me shatters.
The car skids around a corner, tires screaming against the pavement as I push it beyond its limit. Fear and rage fuel my reckless speed.
“And her?” My voice is sharp, every muscle wound tighter than a bowstring. “Where is she?”
“She went to the elevator,” Angelo says tightly. His voice is dark, clipped—punctuated by the gunfire crackling through the phone’s speaker.
The sound makes my blood run cold. My jaw clenches so hard it aches. If they dare lay a finger on her— I will kill them.
And then I will take her.
Steal her away, far from Cosa Nostra.
And I will never return.
“Fuck,” Angelo breathes suddenly. “Romeo’s down.”
“Shit.”
“Damn it! The cameras are down!”
No.
My heart plummets. That means—they cut the surveillance.
“It’s fine.” Angelo’s voice is tight, trying to keep me steady. “We’re practically there. We’ll get her, Santo.”
No.
Ice grips my spine. My fingers strangle the steering wheel.
“Athena is a prototype,” I say, my voice hollow. “I had to connect it to the lock system. If they cut off Athena—”
The realization slams into me like a wrecking ball.
“Then anything biometric will override.”
“So what?” Angelo demands. “The elevator freezes? Goes dark? She’ll be safe.”
No.
My stomach twists. My breath is shallow.
“The elevator will descend to the basement.”
I barely recognize my own voice—numb, disbelieving. My foot slams harder on the gas pedal.
Hoping.
Praying.
“The only way to shut down Athena is from the control panel.” My voice is hoarse. “ In the basement.”
Vasilisa is descending right to them. She’s a sitting duck.