Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
He must feel my eyes boring into the side of his skull because he turns to me.
“How’d you get her phone?” I ask.
“Amal.”
“Lombardi’s daughter?”
He nods.
“That why you’re here?”
He studies me. “I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything too stupid.”
“Like taking Amal and what’s the boy’s name? Daniel?” He doesn’t respond. “I’ll tell you what,” I start as we approach the house because I need to focus. “Let’s put a pin in this. Whatever the hell this is. Whatever you were trying to do giving her that phone. Bribing my guards. Being in my apartment with her. We’re going to discuss that. But first, I’m going to get Allegra back. And if I even think for a fucking second that you betrayed me, that you had anything to do with this? The bullet I put in your skull will teach you once and for all what it means to be on the wrong side of me.”
Jet grits his jaw, but doesn’t respond.
“Get him a vest,” I tell a soldier, then turn to Jet. “If a bullet’s going to kill you, it’s going to be mine.”
Jet puts on his vest. I turn my gaze to the house as our SUVs slow to join the two already parked on the lawn. I take my Glock out of its holster and hold it at my side.
The house is dark. I doubt anyone’s inside, but like I said, it’s a start. When I get to the house, my men are waiting, each of them dressed in black, one holding a battering ram. I look at it, then at him.
“Do it.” I don’t bother to knock. I want to leave as much destruction behind me as possible. I want to send a very clear message to anyone involved.
The door crashes open and six men file inside, AK-47s ready.
I walk in next, Jet following me. The house is pitch black. Men scatter throughout the first floor, up the stairs to the second. A few minutes pass as I make my way to Alaric Moretti’s office. Everything is clear, no one here. But from the look of things, and this is confirmed when we turn the lights on, someone was here, and they left in a hurry.
Jet goes upstairs to search the bedrooms. I tuck the Glock back into its holster before looking around the study. This room is undisturbed, but in the living room is a broken vase and two of the dining room chairs are turned on their side. The kitchen is untouched, all entrances intact.
“Cassian,” Jet calls.
I look up to find him at the top of the stairs. “You’ll want to see this.”
I walk up the stairs, meet Jet outside one of the bedrooms. I look inside. It must be the little boy’s room. Daniel. His bed is unmade, a teddy bear dropped somewhere between it and the door. Jet waits for me to get to the next room.
“This is Amal’s room,” he says as I take in the state. There was a fight here. That’s clear. The room is wrecked, one of the lamps crashed to the floor, the bathroom door splintered.
“How do you know it’s her room?” I ask before noticing the open books on the desk and seeing her name at the top of a notebook.
He bends to pick something up. “Someone took her by force. She’d never leave her phone behind.”
I glance at it, watch him tuck it into his pocket. I walk out of the room and go into the next one which is, or was, Allegra’s. I walk in and switch on the light. This room is undisturbed. No one here to kidnap. She was already taken. The room is neat, the design simple, not overly feminine, the bed made, the desktop empty. I walk over to the nightstand where a framed photo is on the floor. I pick it up to find the glass is cracked. It’s a picture of a younger Allegra with her mom. There’s a birthday cake and I see the balloon behind her. Fifteen. The year they were kidnapped. The year her mother died. It was two months after this photo was taken. Two months and her whole life changed.
“Malek’s room is untouched,” Jet says.
I don’t turn around yet. Instead, I slip the photo out of the frame and tuck it into my pocket.
“Which one is it?” I ask, very aware of the rings that had been delivered just hours ago as well as that bullet still inside my pocket. I’d planned on marrying her before we left Atlantic City. I scrub my face. Christ. It’s been a fucking day.
I follow Jet into Malek’s room. I can smell the cologne he must fucking bathe in. His desk is there. The top is cleared off and the drawers locked.
“Break those locks and get everything inside. I want it all.”