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He spins around and marches toward the door. “Diego,” I address him for the first time, and he looks over his shoulder, halting his movements. “Have you seen my wife?” I already know the answer to my question because if he had, he would have come to me a long time ago.
Without waiting for him to reply, I take out Isla’s photo from my drawer and place it on my desk.
Diego’s gaze drops to it, and he freezes, and for the first time, I see an emotion in his usually dead eyes while he swallows hard.
Because Isla is the spitting image of their mother, except their signature gray eyes were inherited from their father.
The Church Killer.
“Ella…” He turns back around to face me, his chest rising and falling while he picks up the photo. “She’s my sister?”
“Si.”
His fingers trail over her face, his focus on her almost absolute, and I think he forgets how to breathe while his hold on the photo tightens with each passing second. As a brother, I understand all his emotions.
He lived through hell; all my experiences pale in comparison to what he had to experience before his grandparents found him. And probably just imagining what his sister had to go through kills him.
He might not have a heart or a soul, but there is one truth no one can argue about Diego Alvarez.
He’s fiercely protective of his family and kills anyone who poses a threat to them.
Once upon a time, John kidnapped a little girl straight from a playground without knowing she was an heiress to one of the richest families in the world.
An only child.
Which means Diego and Isla are the only heirs to their grandparents’ fortune.
“He’s alive?” he asks, the photo at this point crumpled in his grip. “My mother’s rapist is alive?”
“Yes.”
That’s when Florian enters the office, swiping his gaze over us, and asks, “What the hell is going on? What are you doing here, Alvarez?”
“Fuck off, Price.”
I don’t get the chance to interfere as my phone vibrates on my desk, and I grab it, noticing an alert on the tracking device on Isla, and I grow still while fear sinks into me.
Because my beloved wife was kidnapped by her psycho of a father.
Panic swirls inside me, ready to erupt, but I push a lid on all my emotions, leaving only coldness and a burning desire for vengeance instead, ready to finish what’s been more than a decade in the making.
This time around, everything will be different.
This time around, he won’t win.
As this time around, we’re together, and no one hurts my wife.
Absolutely fucking no one.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“On the path of revenge, be careful.
As those who you try to avenge might not deserve such an honor in the first place.”
Isla
Isla
