But he’s right. I need the backup.
“Fine. You follow my lead. This is my operation.”
He gives a non-committal shrug. “Done.”
“And if you do anything that puts her at risk, I will bury you. Brother or not.”
Ronan’s mouth twitches. “Fair.”
“Okay, where are the access points?” I ask Wolfe.
“Main entrance here.” He points at the screen. “Secondary on the south side. There’s a loading dock in back.”
“What about security?”
He shakes his head. “Unknown. I’d assume heavy.”
I nod. “Ronan, your guys take the loading dock. Cillian, you’re with me covering the main entrance.”
Ronan’s pulls out his phone and stares at the screen. “My guys will be there in fifteen.”
I look at Cillian. He gives me a short nod. “Let’s do this.”
I head for the door. I’ll bring her back or die trying.
There’s no third option.
CHAPTER 31
ADRIANA
I open my eyes a crack,recoiling at the bright fluorescent lightbulb hanging over me. I shut them quickly, the sharp, stinging sensation making me wince. My mouth is dry, like someone shoveled a bucket of sand into it, and there’s a strange chemical taste lingering on my tongue.
A groan slips through my lips as my eyes float open again. I look around at the stark concrete walls and the floor stained with God only knows what. I try to move, shifting against the back of the hard metal chair, but my body is too tired to cooperate. My brain sends the signal, but nothing happens. That scares me more than anything else.
Where the hell am I?
My head pounds with relentless force and my stomach keeps threatening to revolt. When I try to lift my head, the room tilts and I have to close my eyes again to keep from throwing up.
Okay. Okay. Breathe.
I try again, slower this time, and blink until things start to come into focus.
The place looks like a warehouse. It’s got high ceilings and rusted beams that run across the top of the space. The stench of rotting fish makes my stomach roil again. I press my lips tightlytogether and look around. The only light comes from the bulb. There are no windows, just a big roll-up door on one end and a regular door on the other.
I struggle to move again, a frustrated cry piercing the air. Zip ties. Son of a bitch. My hands are behind my back, my ankles secured to the legs, and every time I tug away from the chair, the damn plastic cuts deeper into my skin.
Two men stand near the roll-up door, talking quietly. It takes my foggy brain a second to register the language.
Russian.
And like a tsunami, the violent rush of memories assaults my mind. My heart beats wildly as images wallpaper my mind.
The gunshot echoing in my ears. Riccardo’s head blown in half.
Tears sting my eyes, fear bubbling in my chest.
Vincenzo killed Riccardo. Vincenzo drugged me. Zio Vinnie, the man who’d been at my father’s side since before I was born, handed me over to the goddamn Russians.
