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For Ayla. She needed me strong.

Artur pulled Maddie into his arms. She buried her face into his chest as she sobbed. Swallowing against the lump of emotions around my throat, I shook my head and walked forward.

Maddie stopped in front of me. “Ayla might be an Abandonato, but she is innocent.”

Her voice was a mere whisper, but it reached me. And the words were a straight blow to my heart.

“I know,” I murmured, looking straight as I walked past her.

“Alessio, you have—” She broke off, her voice cracking. “I can’t even imagine what she is going through right now.”

My eyes closed, my fingers tightening into fists at the thought of Ayla being in pain.

“I will find her,” I said, my voice gruff from the effort of keeping my emotions in check.

I will find her. It was a vow spoken out loud.

Maddie stepped in front of me, a single tear trailing down her cheek. “You promise?”

I broke my promise before, but not this time. So I nodded. Maddie seemed satisfied enough with my answer, and her eyes held no doubt. They only shone with absolute trust.

She stepped out of my way, and I continued upstairs. Walking down the hall toward my office, I only heard Ayla’s beautiful laughter and sweet voice. She was everywhere yet nowhere at all.

A sudden surge of anger coursed through my body. Alberto had to die.

But first I had to find him. And the fucker was smart. A coward, but smart. The moment Ayla was in his trap, he went off the grid. Nowhere to be found.

It had only been hours since Ayla was taken, but it felt like years.

“Fuck,” I swore, opening the door to my office, only to stop dead in my tracks.

Lyov was staring out the window, while Isaak’s body sagged against the couch, his head in his hands as if all his energy had left his body.

I walked inside, analyzing both men closely. They hated the Abandonatos with a passion, but I wasn’t going to let them stand in my way to find Ayla. Consequences be damned.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw my men following me inside. My expression stayed cold and emotionless as I faced my father and Isaak.

“I should have known,” Isaak said, causing a cloud of confusion to settle around us. Lyov’s back went rigid at Isaak’s voice, his eyes closing tightly.

“She looked so much like Leila, but I didn’t want to believe it. I refused to believe it,” Isaak continued, his voice breaking over the last words.

Alfredo’s wife?

“What?” I snapped, moving forward.

Isaak looked up, and I was shocked to see his eyes red. No, he wasn’t crying. But the agony on his face spoke more than the tears would have.

“You knew Leila?” I asked when our eyes met. He flinched and stared at Lyov, who still hadn’t turn around to acknowledge us.

“Yes. I knew Leila. I more than just knew her,” he murmured.

Cocking my head to the side, I stared and waited. I could have guessed the answer, but I needed to hear it from him. The truth.

My thoughts ran wild as I waited for Isaak to explain.

“To understand, you will have to know the beginning.”

My eyes widened when I heard Lyov’s guttural voice. “Tell him,” he ordered without turning around.

Isaak stood up and paced the room. “After your mother’s death, our only goal was to take down the Abandonatos. I was sent to find Alfredo’s weakness.”

He paused, taking a deep breath, as if it pained him to continue. “We thought Leila was his weakness, so for months I kept an eye on her. From far away. I watched her every move and waited. After weeks of watching, I started to see signs of abuse. Sometimes she would have a bleeding lip. Her cheeks would be red or a shade of purple. Once she was walking with a limp.”

Why did that sound so familiar?

Ayla. Her name was a whisper in my head, and I clenched my jaw, my teeth grinding together.

“Every day, at the same exact time, Leila would go to a coffee shop. I watched her cross the street. I watched until I couldn’t stay away anymore. She was so sad. So broken,” Isaak continued. He had long ago stopped pacing. His eyes were now glued to the wall. He was lost in his memories.

“But she was never alone. She always had a baby in her arms. The only time I saw her smile was when she played with the small little bundle. I approached them, desperate to know the broken woman in front of me.”

I knew where this was going, but I didn’t stop Isaak. So he kept talking. And in doing so, his words stabbed at my already fragile heart.

“The baby’s name was Ayla. Ayla Abandonato. She was the sweetest little baby. Only three months old when I met her.” Isaak’s voice slightly broke over Ayla’s name.

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