Chapter Seven
Gualtiero
Idial Tomaso’s number again. He’d better pick up this time. On the fourth ring, he finally does.
“When I call, you answer. Is that clear?” I fume.
Not waiting for his pathetic excuses, I ask, “Status?”
“We’re still looking. She can’t have disappeared.” He speaks with forced confidence, trying to mask his incompetence.
They fucking had her and let her get away.
But then my Ella is resourceful. She would never surrender without a fight. Despite my fury, a grim flicker of pride cuts through me.
“Keep searching.” I hang up, my teeth grinding together.
She’s still here. I feel it in my soul.
My hand slips into my pants pocket, fingers closing around the precious metal. It grounds me, keeps the edge from slicing clean through my control.
After the anonymous tip-off, Uberto managed to get partial access to the cameras of Poseidon’s Princess while the ship was at sea. Crew areas mainly. The footage was delayed with bad angles, but it was enough to confirm Ella was on board.
He showed me a picture a week ago. A single still pulled from a crew corridor camera. Grainy. Poorly lit.
My breath locked in my chest as heat surged through me. Relief hit so hard it left me gripping the edge of the table, my body reacting before my mind could catch up.
It was her.
She looks different now. Her hair is shorter, dyed chestnut brown. Even her facial features seem altered. Makeup tricks, Uberto tells me. Enough to fool facial recognition software.
Not enough to fool me. I would recognize my angel anywhere. Distorted. Disguised. Reduced to pixels.
I stared at that image far longer than I should have. Zoomed in until it blurred. Memorized every visible detail. Uberto eventually cleared his throat and sent the file to my phone.
I’ve looked at it dozens of times since.
I turn to Uberto now, who’s speed-typing at his keyboard, his gaze riveted to the wall of monitors in front of him. We borrowed the surveillance van from my cousin in Chicago. It’s proven invaluable.
We got a visual on Ella earlier with another woman as they were descending a staircase, but nothing since.
In the footage, Ella looked up toward the camera only once before dropping her head, but that single glance landed deep in my chest. It unleashed the burning need to hold her once more in my arms, to bring her home… to me.
Uberto took a screenshot and distributed it to all our men. Every possible exit from the ship is monitored. All my soldiers are equipped with cameras, feeding live footage back into Uberto’s facial recognition system.
She can’t escape this time. Her only option is to hide on the ship. Even that won’t last long, as more of my men are joining the search onboard.
She’s within reach. I can feel it.
Anticipation hums beneath my skin.
“Call me as soon as you’ve got anything,” I tell Uberto, then step outside.
Bright sunlight hits my eyes, forcing me to blink as I drag in a slow breath.
My body is wound tight. It has been since the day Ella ran, and it only intensified when we arrived in Halifax yesterday.
We’ve been tracking the Poseidon’s Princess for eight days. I’ve been counting them down. When it anchored around five this morning, we were already here, waiting.
I won’t let her slip through my fingers again.
Freemont Security tried hard to send me chasing ghosts. The thought alone makes my jaw clench. If not for that anonymous tip-off, we might never have known where to look. Once we did, Freemont became unnecessary. Still, Uberto uncovered their deception anyway.
Antonio steps up beside me, phone in hand. I glance at him expectantly.
He shrugs. “Nothing new.”
We walk along the wharf, the ship looming beside us. I stare up at it, willing Ella to appear.
I want her back. Now.
The time without her has been torture. Not knowing how she is, or if she’s still angry, has been eating at me.
But we will work it out. We have to. Because I’m not letting her go. She’s mine.
We reach the stern of the ship, where Leonard and his men are stationed near the cargo hold.
“It’s been quiet,” Leonard says. “Only garbage carts were taken off.”
He gestures toward a utility vehicle driving into a large shed a few hundred yards away, pulling metal carts piled with trash bags.
“We checked every single one,” Leonard adds before I can ask.
I watch as the last cart disappears inside the shed. The heavy metal doors slide shut.
Heat suddenly flares violently in my abdomen.
I’ve felt Ella’s presence for hours, but this is stronger. Sharper.
The tingling spreads up my arms.
“Where are you, angel?” I murmur, slowly turning, scanning everything around me.
There’s no one nearby. Only a skinny man in a maintenance overall heading toward the shed. A black pickup truck is parked close by.
He keeps looking over his shoulder. Too carefully.
Something is wrong.
“Leonard, stay here. Everyone else, with me,” I order.
Antonio falls into step beside me. “What is it?”
Of all my soldiers here with me, he’s the highest ranking. It’s the only reason I answer.
“That man. Something about him isn’t right.”
The closer we get, the more heat floods my veins. Every nerve hums.
Ella is in that shed.
I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.