Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“No, I'm sure you didn't think that.” There's that sharpness I'm used to hearing from him, appearing right on schedule.
Only for Bianca's sake do I bite my tongue. Much more of this, and I'll bite it off. “To be fair, I doubt he would have done it if it hadn't been for my ex-wife approaching him. She needed somebody with money and muscle in her corner.”
“I'll tell Ken,” he announces, pulling out his phone. I sort of wish Ken was here, since he's the only calming influence in this situation. He manages to keep Charlie from going over the edge and isn't so quick to let his emotions cloud his judgment.
“Are you familiar with the name Jack Moroni?” he barks into the phone and begins to pace like I was earlier. “Well, Callum tells me it's looking like he's the one behind this. Do we have any idea where his people hang out?” He doesn't seem to notice that he used the word we, as if he still has a job in the department. I guess some habits are harder to break.
“Okay, good. Do that and get back to me.” Charlie orders, and then hangs up the phone. “I'm going to meet up with Ken and try and get some more intel on Jack and his men.”
“Alright, keep your phone on you, and let me know if you discover anything that might be beneficial.” He nods and leaves the room without another word.
Holding the door open to Tatum's room, I ask Romero, “Can we get a list of any of Moroni's properties? It only makes sense he'd be holding her at one of them.”
Usually, Romero would've already thought about this. He might already have a list of properties for me to look through. Who knows. All he can do now is lift his gaze from the phones, his eyes rimmed with dark circles. “I'll make a call and get a list together.”
“Anything on the phones?”
“Here.” He wears a grim expression as he holds one of them out to me before typing on his own device. “It's hers. They set it so you only need a pin to unlock it—four zeros.”
One day, I might have it in me to look deeper through her messages, but for now, I only need the last text she ever sent. It was part of a long thread of messages between her and a contact labeled JM. I don't have to guess whose name those letters stand for.
Amanda: I'll be at the warehouse at 5:30. I can't wait to see the look on that little slut's face once she finds out what's coming to her.
Romero stands, his eyes wide as he stares down at the phone he's examining. “It was Booker.”
I'm too involved in hoping Amanda burns in hell to register his meaning. “What?”
“Booker. He was one of the guys we lost at the warehouse.” He holds the phone out for me to read something on the screen. “He'd been texting Amanda for months—and she's not the only one whose name is in here.”
“Dominic Moroni,” I murmur, scanning the messages between them. The puzzle is slowly coming together, and the image it creates turns my stomach. “He's who we need to track down. He's in on this.”
“On it.” Romero turns away from the bed to type something into his phone while I move up beside my daughter. She whimpers softly and the sound is like a knife cutting through my heart. Even when she was conscious, her babbling made no sense. She's underwater, lost in her trauma—a sinking ship.
“It's okay, sweetheart,” I whisper, leaning down to brush my lips against her clammy forehead. “We'll get revenge. I promise, they'll pay for what they did.”
But first, I need to get my family back.
The memory of Jack's snide and gleeful message is like kerosene poured over my already blazing fury. Laugh it up while you can, you bastard. I'm coming for you.
BIANCA
Nighttime is the worst, it's when the coldness seeps into my bones, and the despair causes me to believe Callum will never come for me. I try to keep my spirits up, but even I know I was not cut out for this cruel darkness of this world.
Sleep never finds me, and my body is a mass of knots by the time the lock disengages. My entire body stiffens, the breath in my lungs stills, and panic bubbles to the surface, giving way to worry on which guard I'll have to face this time.
Will this one decide he doesn't want to follow Jack's orders?
The door swings open slowly, and the sound of choked gagging fills the room before I even see a face. I know it's not one of the guards, and it's not Jack, but I recognize him immediately.
“It smells like a fucking sewer in here,” Dominic gags, his gaze sweeping the room and stopping once it lands on me. The instant flash of recognition sends a wave of dread ripping across my skin.