Page 69 of Arranged with Twins
“No!” I thrash against the hands restraining me, but there are too many of them. Two men pin my arms while a third holds my head still. “Don’t! I’m pr?—”
The needle pierces my neck with a sharp sting before I can finish saying I’m pregnant. Almost immediately, my limbs begin to feel heavy and unresponsive. I try to keep fighting, but my muscles won’t obey my commands.
“Adrian wants her alive and unharmed,” someone says, and the name cuts through my growing haze like a blade.
Adrian. Leo’s enemy. The man to whom Father supposedly owes fifteen million dollars.
Leo’s warnings crash through my mind as the sedative takes hold. The bank records, the phone transcripts, and the intercepted communications all now seem likely to be true. What if Father really has been feeding information to this man, and I just became the ultimate leverage in their deal?
My vision blurs as we speed through Manhattan traffic. I try to memorize the route, to count turns and note landmarks, but the drug makes it impossible to focus. The buildings outside the window blur into streaks of concrete and glass.
“How far?” asks the driver.
“Twenty minutes to the safe house,” someone says.
Safe house. They’re taking me somewhere isolated, where Leo might never find me. The thought should terrify me, but the sedative is making everything feel distant and unreal.
My head lolls back against the seat as consciousness slips away. Through the fog, I hear my phone ringing in the floorboard, where it must have fallen from my purse. I manage to lift my head enough to see Leo’s name on the caller ID just before one of the goons beside me crushes it with a polished Italian shoe.
My last coherent thought is of Leo’s face when I accused him of lying, wincing at the hurt in his eyes when I stormed out. I was so determined to prove my independence that I walked straight into the trap he’d been trying to protect me from. Now, it might be too late to tell him I’m sorry and too late to admit he was right about everything.
Everything goes black.
24
Leo
An hour passes in my office, and the silence grows heavier with each minute. I try to keep my mind occupied while giving Sienna space to process what she learned. The rational part of me knows she needs time to think, but every instinct screams at me to go after her.
I pick up my phone three times before finally dialing her number. She needs to know I’m willing to answer any questions and show her whatever evidence she wants to see. Pride be damned because losing her isn’t an option.
The phone rings three times before going to voicemail. “Sienna, it’s me. I know you’re angry, but we need to talk. Call me back when you’re ready.”
I hang up and try again five minutes later. It goes straight to voicemail this time, without ringing. Unease crawls up my spine. Sienna might be furious with me, but she wouldn’t turn off her phone when she’s pregnant and alone in Manhattan.
I dial the head of her security detail, but it goes straight to voicemail, telling me something is definitely wrong. I’m out of my chair and running toward the door when Ilya bursts through it, his face grim and streaked with sweat.
“They took her.” He’s breathing hard, like he ran here. “Adrian’s people grabbed Sienna off the street.”
The words hit me like bullets. “How many?”
“Six vehicles total. Three of theirs, three of ours trying to intercept.” Ilya follows me as I stride toward the weapons cabinet. “There was a heavy firefight in broad daylight. NYPD is already swarming the scene.”
“Our people?”
“Two dead and three wounded. Matthews took a round to the shoulder but he’s alive.” Ilya’s voice cracks with regret. “All of Adrian’s men are dead. We can’t interrogate them.”
I pull on my shoulder holster and check my sidearm. “CCTV?”
“Raquel is working on it. She hacked into the police feeds and confirmed they headed northwest, but she lost them when they reached a dead zone in surveillance coverage.”
“How is that possible in Manhattan?”
He looks disgusted. “It happened at a construction zone near the docks. Half the cameras are down for infrastructure work.” Ilya hands me an extra magazine. “They probably planned the route deliberately.”
Of course, they did. “Get me to Vincent Cooper.” My voice comes out cold enough to freeze blood. “Now.”
“Leo, we should coordinate with?—”
