Page 100 of The Underboss's Secret Twins
The ocean disappears behind us, swallowed by the dark as the road narrows. The hills feel taller now, the shadows deeper. My stomach twists. Peace is gone. There’s only the chase now.
"Then what do we do?" My voice is tight, my nails digging into the seat.
A second passes. Two. The headlights behind us grow brighter, sharper, cutting through the dim light like a predator locking onto its prey.
"Hang on." There’s no time to register the warning before the driver jerks the wheel left, hard and sudden.
The car veers off the main road, barreling down a side street, the tires screeching as they struggle to grip the pavement. My body pitches forward, the seatbelt locking tight across my chest.
The road here is narrower, darker, lined with looming buildings that cast heavy shadows across the asphalt. The driver doesn’t slow, doesn’t hesitate, just pushes forward, weaving between the few cars that are out at this hour, threading through the streets with precision that tells me this isn’t the first time he’s done this.
But the car is still behind us, rapidly closing the distance.
Another sharp turn. Another. The city stretches out before us in a blur of metal and concrete, flickering neon signs and dim streetlights flashing by like ghosts. My heart races, my pulse a frantic staccato against my ribs.
Then—
A violent impact from behind, metal slamming against metal. The force jerks me forward, my hands flying out to brace against the dashboard as the car lurches sideways.
"They’re trying to force us off the road!"
No. No, no, no.
Another hit. Harder this time. The tires scream against the pavement, the whole vehicle shuddering with the force of the impact.
The driver grits his teeth, fighting for control.
He slams the brakes.
The seatbelt bites into my chest as the car jerks violently, the world pitching forward all at once. The pursuing car doesn’t react fast enough—it rockets forward, speeding past us before the driver realizes what just happened.
Too late.
The sedan’s tires screech against the pavement as the driver whips the wheel around, cutting hard to the right and taking off in the opposite direction.
My breath shudders out of me, my entire body thrumming with adrenaline, my vision blurring at the edges.
The pursuing car skids to a stop, its headlights swinging wildly as it tries to recover. But we’re already moving—already getting away.
24
MARCO
My body drags me out of sleep slowly, like I’m clawing my way up from the bottom of a deep well. My limbs feel heavy, my head thick with something unnatural. My tongue is dry, sticking to the roof of my mouth. There’s a strange taste on it—bitter and metallic. Out of sheer instinct, I reach blindly for Sofia. My hand finds nothing but cold sheets.
I go still.
A cold prickle moves down my spine as my fingers curl around the empty space where she should be. My mind shakes off the last remnants of sleep, instincts snapping to attention. I sit up too fast, the room tilting at the edges of my vision.
"Sofia?" My voice is hoarse, rough with sleep and something else. Something worse.
No answer.
The air in the bedroom feels stale, like it hasn’t been disturbed in hours. I force my body to move, throwing off the sheets, planting my feet on the floor. The polished hardwood is cool beneath my bare skin. I scan the room, my pulse pounding, my breath sharp.
She’s not here.
The closet door stands slightly ajar. The silk dress she wore last night is still draped over the chair in the corner. But the small bag she always keeps on the dresser—the one she never leaves without—is gone.
