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9
NIALL
The sound of Isabella’s screams will stay with me for the rest of my days.
It takes everything in me not to rush the gates when I catch a glimpse of Diego’s hands on her roughly, pulling her hair, grabbing roughly at her arm. I don’t see what they give her or how, but the way she slumps as she’s bound and gagged tells me everything I need to know.
They’ve drugged her, and they’re taking her somewhere.
“Get back!” I hiss to the men, all of us crowding backward into the brush as we watch for the gates to open. I saw them moving Isabella towards a van, not towards the house, and I want the license plate off of it. I don’t know if Ricardo will have any idea where Diego might send her, but I need to have a way to have some chance of tracking her, or any possibility of getting her back will be lost.
The gates swing open, the van roaring out, and I wave for my men to get around to where the cars are hidden as I look at the license plate. With that firmly in my memory, I follow the men back to my bike, moving quick and low to stay out of sight of the guards. I’m not sure it would matter, Diego’s angry voice is still filling the air, and I’m fairly certain he’s keeping everyone occupied with his ranting for now.
We try to keep up with the van, far enough for it to not be obvious that we’re following but close enough to try not to lose them, but whoever’s driving it is keen enough to pick up on us even from a distance. We lose the van almost as soon as it leaves the main road, and I pull off to the side, motioning for the other vehicles to do the same.
“Back to the Santiago compound.” I rub a hand over my mouth, feeling exhausted, the painkillers I took before leaving doing very little to take the edge off. “I’ll see if Ricardo has any idea where they might have gone.”
It feels like shit, coming back empty-handed. I can see the disappointment in Ricardo’s face when I walk back into his office, tired and dusty, and shake my head.
“I saw her,” I say carefully, feeling the exhaustion creeping in. There’s a flicker of hope on Ricardo’s face, and I shake my head. “It’s not good.”
“What happened?” He’s gripping the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, sinking down into the chair in front of his desk. All of me hurts, down to the marrow of my bones, but I’m pretty sure at this point that if I don’t sit down, I might fall down.
“She was screaming.” I rub a hand over my mouth, looking at the blood drain out of Ricardo’s face and hating that I didn’t walk back in here with Isabella. “Diego was clearly pissed at her about something. They—they drugged her and put her in a van. We tried to follow it, but we lost it off the main road. I got the license plate, so that might be worth something—but I need to know if you have any idea where they might have taken her.”
“Mierda—” Ricardo presses his face to his hands. “Christ. I don’t know for certain, but I have an idea where he might have sent her.”
“Anything you’ve got will help.” I lean forward, wincing as my entire body protests the motion.
“He’s probably sent her to a man named Javier Aguilar. They call him the bride-tamer.” On the other side of the desk, Ángel makes a choked sound, but Ricardo keeps talking. “Men who claim they can’t control their wives or say they’re rebellious send them to him. There are plenty of rumors about what he does to them, but—they come back broken. Subservient.” Ricardo shakes his head. “I can’t say my marriage has been entirely peaceful all these years, but what Aguilar does—it’s horrible. I’d do anything to keep my daughter out of his clutches—but it sounds like it might be too late. She won’t be the same when she comes back—if she comes back at all.”
I’m not sure I’ve felt a horror quite like what sinks into me as I listen to Ricardo. I’ve never heard of a man quite like this Aguilar. Still, I’ve seen plenty of men who think they have a right to break a woman to their will, and if he’s worse, then the thought of Isabella under his power makes me feel sick to my stomach. “I’m going after her,” I say sharply, pushing myself to my feet with a pained wince. “I’m not leaving her with him.”
“No one knows exactly where to find his compound,” Ricardo says tiredly. “I certainly don’t. I don’t know where to begin. He’s a mystery, a ghost, unless you’re the kind of man to have contact with him, and I am not. I don’t do business with those men, either. Those kinds of men, those cartels, are my enemies—and Diego’s friends.”
“I have a license plate for the van that took her. I’ll start with that. I have some connections that might be able to help.” I rub a hand over my face, letting out a long sigh. “I need to take you up on your offer to stay here, though. Diego will figure out pretty quick that his guys didn’t finish the job. I need some walls to stay behind until I figure out which direction to go to find Aguilar.”
Ricardo nods. “Of course,” he says quickly. “Anything you need.”
But I can already tell he’s all but given up hope.
—
There’s only one person I know who might be able to take something as simple as a license plate number and turn it into a means to find someone that no one else can. I ring her on a video call the instant I’m settled into the room that Ricardo’s housekeeper shows me to, propped up on the mountain of down pillows as I wait for her to answer.
When she does, it’s in a semi-darkened office, piles of paper everywhere as she peers at me through her webcam, the glow of her computer screen lighting her pretty, petite face and dark almond-shaped eyes. “Niall?” Her voice is surprised. “I haven’t heard from you in ages. Or Liam, for that matter. Is everything alright?”
“Not really,” I tell her honestly. “I need you to help me find someone, but it won’t be easy. I don’t have much to go on. A man named Javier Aguilar.”
Her eyes light up, and she pushes her silky black bobbed hair out of her face, pulling it back into a knobby ponytail. “Let’s do it.”
Liam introduced me to Beth Wan years ago, a master-level hacker living in Washington, D.C., who can find just about anyone. She and Levin were the reasons he found leads to Ana in the first place, although even Beth couldn’t track down Alexandre Sartre. I know from what Liam’s told me that’s been a burr in her side ever since, a failure she took personally. Javier Aguilar might prove just as difficult, but I have a feeling she’ll be even more motivated to find him.
“The man’s a devil,” I tell her, relaying the license plate number. “Has a hidden compound somewhere that men send their recalcitrant brides to, have him ‘teach them a lesson.’ Exactly,” I add, seeing the disgusted look on Beth’s face. “He’s got someone—a girl I need to get back.”
“Oh?” Beth grins at me. “A girl, hm?”
