Page 61 of The Shadow King's Brother

“Nica’s missing.” I don’t soften it. Don’t cushion it. “I need you at my place. It’s urgent.”

Silence. Then the rustling of movement, sheets maybe, clothes. Whatever he was doing, he’s sobering up fast.

“What the fuck do you mean missing?” His tone sharpens, cutting through the fog on his end. “I’m on my way.”

“Wait,” I snap. “I’ll send a car. Stay put.”

Fucking alcohol... But I get it. We all have our demons. Some just crawl louder than others.

I hang up and tap out a message to the driver. Jackson’s address. Pick up. No delays.

Once it’s done, I toss the phone onto the table and rake my hands through my hair, gripping the roots until my scalp stings.

Where are you, Nica?

Give me something. Anything.

Any-fucking-thing.

The house feels hollow. Every room echoes like a tomb.

I turn down the hallway, hunting—desperate for a clue. My eyes scan every surface like a goddamn crime scene, and then—

Something catches the light.

A glint. Tiny. Faint.

I kneel, fingers brushing under the edge of the rug by the door. Her necklace.

Twisted. Broken.

My heart slams against my ribs.

It’s hers. I know it. I fucking know it.

But it tells me nothing. No direction. No enemy. Just that someone took her. And they’re not fucking around.

I grip the necklace in my fist, metal biting into my palm.

They left this behind like a message.

I’ve got one to send back. They will regret ever touching her.

* * *

I sitat the large dining table. Jackson, Gio, Steven, and I are all here, all locked in on the same problem. Marco and Angelo are patrolling the perimeter, checking every corner of the property like they’re expecting an army to roll up at any moment. Vinny’s in the corner, his face buried in his hands. I’ve never seen him like this. I have no idea how to react. But it doesn’t help us find Nika.

“We’re running out of time,” Jackson mutters, his fingers drumming impatiently on the table, his eyes bloodshot but focused. He’s pissed off, and that’s not a good sign. “Whoever took her, they know what they’re doing. The cameras are smashed, the feed stolen.”

“They’ve got to have a plan,” Gio adds, leaning back in his chair. The chair creaks like it’s about to give out under the tension. He swipes his hand through his hair, looking as frustrated as I feel. “But we need to think about where they’re keeping her. We’ve checked every damn place we know, and nothing’s come up.”

I shoot a look at Steven, who’s been sitting in silence, his brow furrowed. “You’ve been quiet,” I say, my voice tight. “What are you thinking?”

Steven looks up, his eyes sharp. “You’re right about one thing—we’re missing something. What about Tuvio? Can you trust him?”

I nod, but Nica’s words linger in my mind. He has alcohol use disorder, yet I’ve never smelled alcohol on his breath—not like I have on Jackson more times than I can count.

Still, Nica was sure… and I can’t shake the nagging feeling about the Broad Corporation being involved in this.

---