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“If I lived in a place where I was on vacation every day, I’m not sure if I’d always dress like I was going to the office,” I say dryly, and Adrian Drakos turns to face me.
“I am never on vacation.” His mouth turns up on one side in a smirk. “I’m not sure that I ever have been. Luca sent you by way of Viktor, hm? I should start charging them a commission for the amount of times they need my help. But then again, Viktor has a deal with the Wolf now, so maybe I simply hope that he keeps Vladimir from looking my way.” Drakos shrugs. “What do you need—”
“Alessio Mancini. Don Mancini, from Chicago.” I have a feeling that my title doesn’t matter much to this man, and Luca might already have told him, but it feels as if it’s worth saying. “My wife is missing.”
“Luca told me. I already have men looking. Luca said that he’s sending some men over on a flight and asked me to house them.” Adrian’s expression says exactly what he thinks ofthat, though he doesn’t comment further on it otherwise. “There are only a few places here where a private jet can land. I have someone looking into that, too. Give me a day, Alessio,” he says calmly. “We will find out where your wife is.”
I’m afraid to hope that he’s telling the truth. “You’re sure of that?” I frown. “This island may not bethatlarge, but to find someone like that so quickly—”
Adrian smirks again, a casual, easy expression on his face, but there’s a hint of something else beneath it—something that tells me that he’s not a man that anyone would want to be on the wrong side of. “I spent twenty years working for the Syndicate,adelfós,” he says flatly. “I have been on this island for a long time now. Nothing happens here that I want to know about that I do not find. A day, Alessio. And we will find her.”
I’m not entirely sure that I believe him. I spend the day anxious, pacing, alternating between fearful imagination and calls with Luca, who is insistent that I stay at Adrian’s villa rather than go back to the hotel. “Two of your household security were meant to be on duty the night that Giacomo was murdered, and weren’t,” Luca tells me. “Someone changed the shift logs. I’ve called Vasilev—he’s going to question them.” Luca hesitates. “Unless you say otherwise, of course—”
“No.” I shake my head. Even knowing what Nikolai’s methods ofquestioningare, I can’t bring myself to care. Nothing is too much when it comes to finding Gianna. I want to be both here and there at once; my utter helplessness at this moment at being somewhere that I can do so little and so far from where I could do something back at home makes me feel as if I’m slowly going mad. “I trust you. Do what needs to be done. I’m waiting on Drakos’ information now.”
“Speaking of—” Drakos walks out onto the patio, his expression grim. “We’ve tracked Enzo down—or at least, a man fitting this description. With some—encouragement, we found informants who saw a van approaching a house here—” He spreads a map of the island out on the table, and points out a road near the other side of it. “A dark-haired girl being taken out of it, wearing a dress matching the description of the one you gave me. From what I was told, there’s a decent amount of security surrounding this house—probably more inside.”
He frowns, standing back. “Luca’s men are here. I have men who can help as well. But—”
“I don’t care.” I shake my head. “Whatever caution you’re going to give me, I’ll go myself if it means a chance at getting Gianna back. It’ll be worse if he gets her back to Chicago.”
Adrian shakes his head. “This is why I’ve never married,” he mutters, turning his attention back to the map. “Luca will be recompensing me for this. Viktor will owe me a favor, though, so there is that, at least. And besides—” he shrugs, his eyes flicking over the roadways. “I don’t like a man who comes onto my island and makes himself at home like this.”
His island. I nearly snort at that, but manage to refrain. If I’m getting his help, that’s all that matters.
“Your security is armed already?” Drakos looks pleased when I nod. “Good. I have weapons for you. We’ll go after dark.”
I nearly protest. For a moment, all my good sense is wiped out by the need to get to Giannanow, my overwhelming fear of what’s happening to her. But Drakos is right. We’ll have a better chance of slipping in and getting to her after it’s dark, when we can have at least some element of surprise.
The waiting is agonizing. I strap on the weapons Drakos provided me as we get ready to leave, my fear and anger building with each passing minute.I’m going to find you,I repeat over and over in my head, knowing there’s no possible way she could hear me, hoping that she believes in me enough to know that I will.
We split up into three separate vehicles, coming at the house where Drakos believes Enzo is staying from different directions. On another night, the island after dark might have been balmy and romantic, setting the mood for Gianna and me—but tonight, it just feels ominous, the dark closing in around us as we slip from the van and out into the streets, which are oddly empty.
“I have my ways,” Drakos murmurs when he sees me looking up and down the streets in confusion, and then he says nothing else after that, motioning for us to move forward.
He puts his hand up when we reach the end of the street, halting me and the men behind us. Some yards away, I see four black-garbed men standing outside a door. And then, in the darkness, I hear the soft sound of silenced gunshots—four of them, coming from above.
The men drop. I see dark liquid start to spread from underneath them, out onto the street, and Drakos motions for us to move forward.
In the shadows, I glimpse the other groups of men with us. We converge on the house from the three points, and Drakos gives me a look. He knows well enough that this isn’t something I’ve done before, that I don’t know what’s waiting for us on the other side. I’ve agreed already to follow his lead.
I’ve never been an enforcer or an assassin. But I’m going to get my wife back.
We slip towards the back door, the other groups coming in towards the windows at the side. One of Drakos’ men, a huge guard built like a professional wrestler, waits for Drakos’ signal—and then, the moment it’s given, he lunges forward and kicks the door in with one hard blow that rattles the doorframe of the house.
And then, everything happens at once.
Enzo’s men are on alert as soon as they hear the sound, but we have the element of surprise. The rattle of gunfire fills the air, and I act on instinct, giving myself the briefest second to make sure that the man I’m shooting isn’t one of ours before I pull the trigger again and again, the scent of hot metal and gunpowder and blood filling the air. Through the chaos, I see Drakos motion towards a staircase leading down, and we start to move that way, ears ringing from the gunshots. Behind us, I can hear the cracking of glass as the windows break, the front door slamming open as more of our men come in that way, converging on the house as I go towards the stairs and the small hope that I have that it will lead me to Gianna.
I’ve never killed someone before today. I’ve never gotten my hands bloody like so many of the other men I work with, but I drop the guards at the end of the stairs without a thought, pushing forward as one of Drakos’ men breaks open the door in front of us—
The crack of a gun in the room brings me up short, the hiss of the bullet going past me making my blood freeze for a moment before I hear a snarl of pain from behind me, the heavy thud of someone going to their knees. I spin on one heel, frantically looking, and see Drakos half-down on the floor, his hand clutching just beneath his ribs.
“Go,” he growls, breathing hard as his men start to circle him, watching the stairs and the room ahead of us simultaneously. “I’ll—manage.”
The other men still with me are already pushing forward. For a moment, I can’t entirely make sense of what’s going on in the chaos—and then I seeher.
Gianna is handcuffed to a bedframe, curled up in terror on the mattress, her hair tangled and face streaked with tears. And on the other side of her, Enzo is standing there, a gun in his hand.
