Page 52 of The Arrangement

Adelina glances up as if trying to see the second floor. "Time to wake Tory?" she asks, as if she senses something's off.

I check the time, seeing that it’s well past nine. "I think so," I agree, and prep a strong coffee for Tory, the kind that snaps you awake.

Coffee in hand, I head upstairs, but a cold draft stops me. The front door's wide open—an unmistakable sign of trouble.

My mind races to Tory. I abandon the coffee, storming toward the open door. "Tory!" I shout, eyes scouring the street for any sign of her, any clue.

Nothing. No guards. Just an eerie calm.

The instant chill of fear is unmistakable—a sharp signal that something's terribly wrong. My eyes dart in all directions, searching the quiet morning for anything out of place, but there's nothing. No one. Yet the open door screams danger louder than any alarm.

"Irina!" The urgency in my voice cuts through the stillness of the house. She's by my side in seconds, her expression flipping to alertness as she reads the situation in my eyes.

"Take Adelina to the safe room. Now," I command, my voice steel. "We might not be alone in the house." My mind races through scenarios, each more dangerous than the last.

"But, Tory—" Adelina's small, scared voice interrupts us. She's sensed the shift, the tension thick in the air.

"I’ll find her, Princess." There's no time for explanations, no moment to comfort. "Irina, get her to safety," I repeat, firmer this time, my gaze locking with Irina's to convey the seriousness.

Irina doesn't hesitate. She nods, a silent agreement of the plan and swiftly lifts Adelina into her arms. Adelina's eyes, wide with fear, meet mine for a fleeting second before Irina turns, taking her away from the danger, away from the unknown.

As they disappear, a heavy silence settles over me. My heart pounds, not just with fear but with resolve. Whoever dared to breach my home, to threaten my family, will soon regret it.

I ease the door shut behind me, turning the lock with a quiet click. My heart's racing, but my hands are steady as I retrieve one of the guns from its hiding spot behind a nearby painting. The familiar weight of it in my grip brings a cold comfort.

From somewhere in the depths of the house, the heavy door of the secure room clicks shut. A wave of relief washes over me for a split second—Irina and Adelina are safe, out of harm's way. That's one less weight on my shoulders, but the danger's not over yet.

I move through the house slowly, every sense heightened, ready for any sign of an intruder. The silence is thick, broken only by my measured steps. The first floor reveals nothing, each room as empty as the next. But I can't relax yet; the second floor awaits.

Gun raised, I take the stairs, each step deliberate, bracing for what might come. The need to protect my family, to end this threat, sharpens my focus.

My heart's pounding as I head to the master bedroom, each beat loud against the silence of the house. I'm not sure what I'll find, but I can't help but throw a silent prayer to a God I'm not even sure I believe in. I hope to find Tory there, safe and asleep, and that I’ve overreacted. But every part of me is tensed for violence, gun raised, ready for anything.

I push the door open, my eyes scanning the room quickly.

The bed's empty. Tory's not here.

A heavy silence fills the room, and then, cutting through it, the distant rumble of a car engine fading into the distance. She's gone.

Heart slamming against my chest, I rush to the window, yanking the curtains open in time to see a strange car turn the corner and disappear. It's unfamiliar, not one I've seen before. Fingers tight around my phone, I dial my guards. Silence. No one picks up. It's like they've vanished into the same void Tory has.

The room's a stark reminder of what's missing. Sheets rumpled from last night's escapade, her scent still clinging to the air, painting a picture of normalcy that's been brutally ripped away. I stand there, phone in hand, the echo of the car's rumble a taunting goodbye.

I'll do anything to get her back. Anything to protect Tory. This vow is a silent promise, not just to her, but to myself. Whoever has taken her has just started a war they won't win.

I check my gun, ensuring it's fully loaded and ready. The weight of it in my hand is a grim reminder of what I might have to do.

Reaching the side door, I open it cautiously and scan the surroundings. Nothing but stillness meets me, the silence almost taunting. I circle the house swiftly, every step calculated, my senses on high alert, ready to act at the slightest provocation.

Then, I freeze—a leg protrudes from the hedges. My grip tightens on the gun, my protective instinct, razor-sharp, ready to eliminate any threat.

Approaching the hedge, I discover the leg belongs to Charlie. He's grimacing, a bloody wound marring his head, struggling to sit up.

"What happened?" I demand, crouching beside him, my concern spiked with anger as I grab his arm and help him into a sitting position.

"Nick," he grunts, pain lacing his voice. "Hit me with his gun out of nowhere."

"Why?" My voice is cold, calculating, every word sharp with the promise of retribution.

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