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“Anyone picking up?”

“No,” Sergei answers. “Nothing.”

“Drive faster.”

The driver runs red lights without hesitation. Horns blare around us as we cut through the city. I keep hitting redial, jaw locked so tight it aches.

This many people not answering is not a coincidence. This many people not answering means the estate has been hit.

Finally a call connects. “Sofía?”

Her breathing is ragged, strained. She sounds like she’s fighting just to speak.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand. “Where is Aurora? Why is no one answering their phones?”

She forces the words out between labored breaths. “We… were attacked.”

The line goes dead. I stare at the phone in my hand for half a second, then slam my fist into the door hard enough to leave a dent.

“Get us there,” I snarl at the driver. “Now.”

Chapter 28

Aurora

I come to with the sensation of movement.

A steady vibration hums beneath me, accompanied by the faint sound of tires rolling over asphalt. I’m in a vehicle. At least, I think I am.

Everything is pitch-black. I blink several times, but it makes no difference. Something is wrapped tightly around my eyes, pressing against my temples. A blindfold.

My head throbs violently, a deep, pounding ache that makes it difficult to think. I shift in my seat, only to realize my arms are pinned behind me. My wrists are bound tightly, the restraints biting into my skin whenever I move.

My heart starts hammering. What happened? I squeeze my eyes shut beneath the blindfold, desperately trying to piece together the last thing I remember.

My breathing quickens as I remember the gunshots at the estate. Sofía on the ground. Luca’s face. A blow to the back of my head. Then nothing. Where am I? Where are they taking me? I swallow hard, forcing myself to stay calm.

Beside me, a woman’s voice cuts through the low hum of the engine. She’s speaking rapidly in Russian. As though she’s in the middle of a heated conversation.

I can’t make out everything she says, but then I hear a faint voice answering her. She’s on a phone call. I focus on her voice, trying to place it. There’s something familiar about it. I’ve heard that voice before.

But where? I rack my aching brain, searching through faces, conversations, memories. Nothing comes.

The pain in my head intensifies, swallowing every thought before I can grasp it. I try to fight through it. But the darkness begins creeping back in around the edges of my consciousness.

❦ ❦ ❦

Voices drag me back toward consciousness. At first, they sound distant, muffled beneath the pounding in my head.

I can’t make out the words, only the rise and fall of two voices arguing somewhere nearby. Then one sentence cuts through the fog.

“I thought we said we weren’t going to kill her.”

I freeze.

The voice is male. Familiar.

“I thought we agreed—”