AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My heart drops. If this is the place, where the fuck is the car he drove her here in? Still, we'll sweep the house. It's what we did the other three times, but my mind is already reeling with what we'll do after this.
Go back to the drawing board to try to find where else he could've taken her.
Even the front door is ajar when we get there, which is even stranger. Whoever lives here doesn't seem to care about their safety. The door from the garage deposits us in a drawing room.
There's nothing out of place.
Darkness falls over the luxurious interior, shrouding the marble floors, antique furniture and expensive artwork in shadows. Our footsteps are muffled against the floor as we file through the room with guns drawn.
There's a corridor up ahead.
But my eyes catch on something as we walk through the kitchen.
A bottle of whiskey is sitting on the slate countertop. It's nearly empty, a single glass tumbler beside it. It almost seems out of place, considering how everything else seems so untouched.
We're at the end of the hall now.
There's a single door at the end of it, and behind us, a staircase leads up to the second floor. More than likely, this is the door to the basement.
Wesley grabs the knob then turns to tap George on his shoulder—our silent way of communicating that shit's about to go down, to get prepared.
George turns to me. I turn to the guy behind me.
We're all ready.
The heavy metal door opens with a screech, and then we're in. The room is nearly pitch black—there are no windows—but my eyes adjusted as we made our way through the dark house.
"There's a body!" George exclaims.
The five of us fan out once we get inside. The room isn't very big, and hasn't been finished. Bare concrete walls and floors. There are two chairs in the centre of the room, a bundle of rope, and a desk with shit-load of monitors on it.
Oh, and a body lying in a pool of blood.
A body too big to be Alize's.
Fuck.
I stalk over to the slumped shadow.
Half his fucking face is gone, but I recognize him instantly from the photos that Vance and Reggie were able to pull.
This is Laurent Martin, the man who kidnapped Alize.
It's obvious he's dead, but I crouch down and press two fingers to his blood-soaked neck. No pulse.
"He's still warm," I mutter.
As much as I want to be hopeful, Alize didn't do this.
No, somebody else got to her before I did. My stomach twists at the thought because I have a sinking suspicion of who it was. Stuart's been surveilling Ben and my father for the past few hours.
If this was an Empire hit, I would know.
There's only one other person who would be this interested in Alize.
The lights flicker back on, painting the whole room in grating fluorescent light. With the light comes a better view of the room. There are blood stains on one of the chairs, pieces of rope.
Alize was held here in these conditions.
