Page 128 of Filthy Little Regrets

Her phone was last active at Rex Technologies. Fear skates down my spine. If he called her, sweet-talked her, she’d probably go see him, hoping for some type of reconciliation. She’s soft like that, always wishing for the best.

“I think I know where she is,” I tell them, sparing themthe likely reality. I won’t destroy what’s left of Melody’s relationship with Darius until I know for certain that he has Adalie. “Where are you?”

Mom’s sobs carry down the line, relieved, shaken, terrified.

“At your penthouse,” Melody says. “You found her?”

Not exactly. “I’m going to get her and bring her home, okay? But I need you two to stay where you are. Got it?”

“Okay.” Melody’s voice is small, like she’s nine again and I’m ushering her back into her room, shielding her from anger she didn’t deserve.

“Good.” I blow out a breath. “I’ll call you in an hour.”

Disconnecting, I grind my teeth and call Darius. The first ring that goes unanswered has my shoulders tightening. The second and my blood starts to boil. My gut churns on the third, every terrible thing that could ever happen flashing through my mind. Trilling, echoing around the interior of my car, the fourth is met with a fifth. No answer. I wait, holding my breath, but when the call rolls to voicemail, I smash my finger into the red button on the console and bang my hand on the steering wheel.

“Fuck!”

Goddammit. I swear to god, if he hurt her—no. I can’t think like that. She’s fine. He doesn’t want to hurt her; he wants to use her. As much as I hate that, it’ll keep her mostly safe until I can get to her. The traffic eases forward and stops again. I check the tracking app, but he must have realized I linked our accounts and disconnected them. Motherfucker. If Adalie is even missing a hair on her head, he’s fucking dead. I navigate to another program, initiate it, and wait, shoulders rising and falling with every angry breath.

I think about all the visitors he had over not so long ago.The fucking made men he wanted to marry my sisters off to. Rage tears through me. My knuckles turn white as I grip the phone, waiting for the fucking report to come through. Minutes tick by, and every second lost feels like I’m losing her. I force a breath right as the program finishes. “Fucking finally.” I tap into the report, an analysis of Darius’s locations over the last year, and zero in on the anomaly over the last month.

The lines in my forehead deepen. I don’t recognize the address or the name. John Williams. Probably a front. Inputting it into the navigation system, I call Remy, wrench the wheel to the right, ignoring the blaring horns, and lay on the gas, flying up the shoulder. The house is fifteen minutes in the opposite direction.

“Yeah?” Remy says.

“I need you to run an address, figure out who really lives there.”

“Okay, are you going to tell me why?”

“Not enough time.” I rattle off the address, glancing at my phone to confirm, hang up, and toss the device aside, gripping the steering wheel tight. A car shifts to the right. Pulse racing, I blare my horn, flying by them and narrowly missing clipping the Honda.

Taking the first exit, I run a light, cut the wheel to the left, the back of the car jerking around as I slam on the brake to make the turn and then accelerate, flying up the on-ramp.

A call from Cassia comes through. Taking a steadying breath, I answer. “Hey, baby.”

“Are you almost here?”

“Change of plans,” I tell her, zooming between cars, ignoring middle fingersand honks.

“What’s going on? A report came through...” She trails off, probably expecting me to be angry.

“I know about the spyware, and I don’t care.” I never disabled it, because I didn’t have anything to hide, and I was kind of impressed she managed to get the upper hand. “Adalie is missing.”

Cassia sucks in a breath.

“I’m going to find her.”

“How?”

“She went to see Darius.”

Silence follows my words, confirming that I’m not crazy for thinking the worst of him. She knows he was trying to marry Adalie off to the mafia.

The exit I’m meant to take comes up fast, and I cut across three lanes, dodging other vehicles as adrenaline rattles through my veins.

“Do you think?—”

“I don’t know,” I tell her, taking the first right and barreling down the road. If she’s not there...then I’ll figure out where else to look, but my instincts are telling me this is the place. “You’re home? Tony is there?”

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