CARA’S POV I pulled my jacket tighter around me, scanning the chain-link fence for a tear, a gap…
anything.
That’s when I heard it.
The soft sound of footsteps against wet asphalt, right behind me.
My heart skipped a beat.
I didn’t even bother turning around to see who it was.
I swerved sharply to the right and darted into a narrow, dark alley wedged between two dilapidated brick warehouses.
I lengthened my stride, the clatter of my boots echoing rapidly against the damp cobblestones, but the footsteps behind me immediately quickened.
Heavy, fast, determined.
Before I could reach the street on the other side, a hand clamped down hard on my shoulder and yanked me backward.
“Let go of me!” I threw a blind elbow, striking his ribs hard.
He grunted, dodged my wild left hook, and pinned my forearms.
“Calm down, Isa!
It’s me!” That voice chilled me even more than the snow.
I froze, looking up at his face.
That sharp jawline, that messy brown hair, that dark, arrogant gaze.
Julian.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I shoved his chest with all my might, breaking his grip and stumbling back two steps.
Panic and rage churned violently in my gut.
“I came to find you,” Julian said, taking a cautious step toward me with his hands raised.
“It’s been a long time, Isa.” “Don’t call me that,” I spat, my voice trembling.
“Get lost, Julian.
I don’t need you, I don’t want you near me, and I certainly didn’t ask you to follow me.” “You sure as hell need help, though,” he grumbled, invading my personal space again.
“You’ve been on the run for three months.” Before I could dodge him, his hands shot out, grabbed my wrist, and shoved me backward.
My back slammed against the alley’s corrugated metal door with such force that the air was driven from my lungs in a painful hiss.
“Let go of me!” I squirmed, trying to break free, but he pressed himself against me, pinning me to the steel.
“Just listen to me for five seconds…” He reached up to my jaw, forcing me to look at him.
“Let go of her.” The voice came from right beside us—low, icy, and deadly serious.
A heavy metallic click cut through the freezing air.
Julian froze in place as the steel barrel of Dante’s gun pressed against his temple.
“Right now,” Dante spat through gritted teeth, his thumb cocking the pistol’s hammer.
“Dante, wait!” I cried out hurriedly, my heart pounding wildly against my ribs.
“Lower your weapon!
I know him!” Dante didn’t budge an inch.
His gaze flicked to me for a split second before locking back onto Jules with pure hatred.
“You know him?” “It’s okay, just put the gun down,” I pleaded, my chest heaving against the door.
Dante kept the gun trained on him.
“I don’t give a damn if you know him.
Why is he touching you, Cara?
Who is he?” Julian smirked; He stepped back half a centimeter while keeping his chin pressed against the barrel.
“Who the hell are you supposed to be?
Her bodyguard?” “I asked a question,” Dante growled, ignoring him completely.
“Who are you?” “I’m her boyfriend,” Julian retorted scornfully.
“Boyfriend?” Dante growled.
“Ex-boyfriend,” I whispered tensely, shooting a furious glare at Julian.
“I’m also a federal agent,” Julian added, completely ignoring me.
“So, why don’t you move that gun away from my head before you do something stupid you’ll regret?” “Give it a try,” Dante whispered.
“Both of you, shut up!” I shoved myself between them, forcing Dante’s gun arm down.
“If you aren’t here to help me identify which of those containers has my brother, get lost!
Danny is the only thing that matters right now to me.” Dante uncocked his pistol with a quiet click and tucked it away.
Julian just straightened his jacket, glaring daggers.
“Fine,” Dante grunted.
“Danny first.” “He was kidnapped,” I said before Julian could ask.
Julian pulled out his phone.
“He was what?
We need to—” “Don’t move!” Shouts echoed from the darkness as heavy boots rushed towards us.
A rifle butt cracked across Dante’s jaw, dropping him to his knees.
Three guards swarmed Julian, tackling him into the ground.
Before I could run, a pair of rough hands yanked my arms behind my back.
Cold zip-ties bit savagely into my wrists, zipping tight.
Knocked off balance, I was shoved hard from behind, barely keeping my feet as they marched us forward.
They shoved us into the back of an idling truck, the tires spitting gravel as we bounced down the rough track.
Moments later, we were hauled out and thrown into a pitch-black shipping container.
The heavy steel doors slammed shut with finality and darkness swallowed us whole.
The air was thick and stagnant.
Hysteria hit me like a wall, locking my lungs.
“Hey…
Isa, breathe.” Julian’s shoulder pressed against mine in the dark.
“I’m right here.” “Back off,” Dante barked from the opposite corner.
“You’re not helping.” “Shut up, man,” Julian snapped back, refusing to move an inch.
“She’s having a panic attack.” “I said get your hands off her!” Dante’s boots scuffled loudly across the corrugated floor as he lunged forward, throwing his weight into Julian.
The two of them crashed into the steel wall in the dark, the metal container booming from the impact.
They were still swearing at each other when the door groaned open.
Blinding flashlight beams flooded the space.
They separated naturally, eyes locked on the figure that had stepped inside.
In the doorway stood Ibarra, adjusting the cuff of his dark suit with a slow, toxic smirk.
“We meet again.” “Where’s my brother?!” I lunged forward, but a guard’s boot slammed into my chest, pinning me to the floor.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Dante growled, eyes locked on Ibarra.
“Just stay calm.” Ibarra chuckled.
“He’s getting ready for a little trip.
One you won’t be taking.” He turned to his men.
“Hope the boat is ready.
Cara, I trust you are in good company with these two.
I will be back shortly and we can have a little chat.
Lock them in.” The steel doors slammed shut again, plunging us back into pitch black.
In the heavy, suffocating silence that followed, I heard a faint, deliberate movement across the floor.
Out of nowhere, a hand touched my shoulder in the pitch dark and somehow I knew it was Dante.
His touch familair.
He had somehow slipped his hands free.
“Hold still,” Dante whispered close to my ear.
Something sharp pressed against the plastic at my wrists and the binding was cut loose.
My hands fell free.
“Get ready,” Dante muttered, already turning toward the door.
“Hey!
What about me?” Julian hissed from the dark.
Dante paused, his voice cold.
“Didn’t they teach you survival skills, Mr.
Federal Agent?” “Please,” I whispered.
With an irritated grunt, Dante stepped back over and sliced Julian’s ties.
“Touch her again and I lock you back in here myself.” He crouched by the seam of the door, waiting.
Three agonizing minutes passed.
Then, the latch outside rattled and the door swung open.
Dante exploded out of the container.
He tackled the first guard, cracking the man’s head against the steel frame.
Julian charged right behind him, shoulder-checking the second guard to knock his rifle loose.
Spotting an iron wrench on a nearby crate, I grabbed it and swung hard into the guard’s shoulder, dropping him so Julian could lay him out with a right hook.
Both guards were unconscious on the cold ground.
Julian scooped up a fallen handgun, racking the slide, while Dante grabbed a shotgun.
Headlights cut through the fog near the water.
Over at the far pier, a sleek speedboat was idling, its powerful propellers thrashing the seawater into a froth of white foam.
Ibarra was dragging Danny toward the ladder.
“Ibarra!” I screamed.
He shoved Danny onto the deck, jumped aboard, and slammed the throttle forward.
The boat surged into the open harbor.
“He’s taking him!” “Not happening,” Dante growled.
He broke into a sprint toward a high-powered patrol launch tied to the nearest slip.
“Dante, wait!” I sprinted down the slippery dock right behind him as the roar of the speedboat faded into the night.