Page 21 of Ivory Oath

All I can focus on is the rush of blood in my ears.

The only reason Viviana was in this shitty hotel for Trofim to take in the first place is because I kicked her out. I sent her out to fend for herself and she was snatched within an hour.

Now, he’s had her for days.

“What’s happening on your end?” Anatoly asks. “Tell me where to meet you and I’ll?—”

“Stay with Dante,” I order. “Raoul and I will take this.”

“I’m always the babysitter,” he mumbles.

“There isn’t time to get back to the mansion. He’s had her for days, Nat. Days.”

Anatoly curses under his breath. “I know. You need to get to her.”

“And I need to know Dante is safe. You’re the only person I trust to take care of him. If anyone comes into the house, shoot first and ask questions later.”

“You know I’ll protect him with my life. Now, go get Viv.”

Raoul is at my elbow the second we hang up.

“You heard everything?”

“Agostino and Trofim are working together,” he confirms with a nod. “It makes sense. If Agostino is in the city, there’s a good reason. He would have been on Viviana the second she stepped foot off of your property. If Trofim found her within an hour, we know who to blame.”

“That means we also know who to kill first,” I grit out.

Because I will kill Agostino Giordano. Not just for betraying his daughter and handing her to Trofim. No, mostly I want to kill him for thinking he has any claim whatsoever on my wife.

No one touches what’s mine.

We fly across the city, but the bar is closed when we get there. Not surprising given it’s well after three in the morning. Raoul starts to slow down, but I gesture for him to keep driving. “We’re going to pay Agostino a house visit.”

It’s risky. This kind of operation would usually be in the works for days, if not weeks. But we don’t have that kind of time.

We might already be too late.

I’m not going to waste another minute planning or plotting. If Viviana is in her father’s penthouse, I’m going to rip the walls down and get her out.

Thankfully, I don’t need to explain any of this to Raoul. He already understands.

He slams on the gas and drives headfirst into danger without a single hesitation.

Agostino doesn’t own the building his penthouse is in, which is his second mistake. The first mistake, of course, being crossing me to begin with.

The after-hours guards on duty in the underground garage are equipped to hand out parking violations and scare away graffiti artists. The young kid walking around the corner with a nightstick on his belt barely even looks up from whatever video he’s watching on his phone when I approach him.

“Take a walk,” I snarl.

The twenty-something jolts. Fumbling with his phone and making sure it doesn’t end up shattered on the pavement is his main concern until he looks into the barrel of my gun.

His mouth falls open, but I speak before he can. “Take a walk and don’t come back within thirty minutes unless you want your brains painted on the walls.”

The kid swallows and nods dumbly. It’s not hard to tell he isn’t a threat. He’s not making enough money to lose his life standing up to me. I swipe the keys from his belt before he scurries away silently.

Once inside, I turn every corner expecting guards or security. There’s nothing. Just an exhausted doorman next to the elevator. Raoul knocks him out and we use his universal elevator key to make our way to Giordano’s penthouse.

“That was easy,” Raoul remarks as the floors pass one by one.

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