Page 73 of Wolf

A chill runs down my spine at his implication, and I feel my hands curling into fists. The mere thought of that piece of shit touching Kali is enough to make my vision go red.

“Think, man,” Thiago presses. “Any locations come to mind? Safe houses, abandoned buildings, anything?”

Jose’s eyes light up. “There’s an old warehouse on the outskirts of town. Suarez used to use it for interrogations back in the day. It has solid concrete walls and no windows, perfect for keeping things quiet.”

Of course, that slimy bastard would take her somewhere like that.

“That’s it,” I growl, already reaching for my gun. “Gear up, men. We’ll pay Suarez a little visit and get my girl back.”

The men spring into action, loading up on weapons and ammunition. Thiago catches my arm, his expression grave.

“We’ll get her back,” he says. “But you need to keep your head straight, little brother, you hear me? Don’t let your anger cloud your judgment.”

I meet his gaze, my jaw clenched. “I’m in control and do whatever it takes to bring Kali home safe. Suarez won’t know what hit him.”

With that, I strap on a bulletproof vest, the weight of it comforting. This is what I was born for—the thrill of the hunt, the rush of battle. As I load my machine gun, checking the ammunition with a practiced hand, my thoughts drift to Kali.

That motherfucker, Suarez, has made the biggest mistake of his miserable life by taking her. He’s awoken a rage in me that won’t be sated until I’ve painted the walls with his blood.

A low growl escapes my throat at the thought of his filthy hands on her. She’s mine—my little rabbit, my reason for living. Anyone who tries to take her from me will suffer a fate worse than death.

“Matias.” Thiago’s gruff voice cuts through my dark reverie. “It’s time to move out.”

I nod, grabbing my gun and following him to the waiting van. The others are already piling in, a grim determination etched onto their faces.

The van rumbles to life, and we peel out onto the empty streets, the warehouse our destination. My fingers tap out a restless rhythm on the butt of my rifle as I go over every possible scenario in my mind. Suarez is a dead man walking—that much is certain. But how many of his lackeys will I need to cut through to get to him? How much of their blood will I need to spill before I can sink my teeth into that traitorous bastard’s throat?

The van hits a pothole, jarring me from my thoughts. Thiago shoots me a sidelong glance, sensing the tension radiating off me in waves.

“Easy, little brother,” he mutters under his breath. “Don’t lose yourself before we get there.”

I grunt in response, forcing my grip to loosen on the gun. He’s right—I need to keep my wits about me if I’m going to get Kali back in one piece. Suarez won’t know what hit him, but I can’t let my rage blind me, not when her life is at stake.

Squaring my shoulders, I take a slow, steady breath. Kali’s face swims before my eyes—her smile, her laugh, how she looks at me when we’re fucking. She’s my world, my everything.

Gripping my gun tighter, I let a feral grin spread across my face as the warehouse looms into view.

Showtime.

We all jump out of the van, and the men follow my lead. I kick down the warehouse door, machine gun blazing. Suarez’s men scatter like cockroaches, taking cover behind crates and machinery. Too little, too late.

“Come out, you cowards!” I roar, squeezing the trigger in a hail of bullets. “Where is she?”

One of them tries to make a break for the exit, but Thiago cuts him down with a well-placed shot to the leg. The man crumples, screaming in agony.

“Search everywhere,” Thiago barks at the men. “Leave no corner unchecked!”

I advance deeper into the warehouse, stepping over bodies and shell casings. My heart races in my ears, fueled by a blind, primal rage.

Where’s my little rabbit?

The gunfire dies down, leaving only the echoes of pained groans in its wake. One by one, my men confirm the same thing—Kali isn’t here. There’s only Suarez’s hired muscle.

A red haze clouds my vision as the realization hits me. He’s taken her somewhere else. I grip my gun so tightly my knuckles turn white, fighting the urge to put a bullet in every last one of these miserable bastards’ skulls.

“Boss,” Jose calls out, dragging one of Suarez’s men before me. “Maybe this one can tell us something. He seems to be in charge.”

The man crouches at my feet, his face a mask of terror. I yank him up by his collar, getting right in his face.

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