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West
Ipace my office, my mind racing with the implications of what happened downstairs.
“I’m checking the footage now,” Jackson says.
My phone buzzes and I snatch it up, seeing Amelia’s name flash on the screen.
“Amelia? Are you okay?” My heart pounds as I turn and stare out of my office window at the New York skyline. “Where are you?”
“West!” Her voice is shrill, panicked. “Giovanni Vincenzo is here in New York! He knows where I am!”
I freeze; my blood runs cold. “What? How?”
“It could only be your father!” she shrieks. “He had people digging up information about me in Italy. Giovanni’s already threatened Felix. He’s so scared he’s hiding somewhere!”
My jaw clenches. Of course, my father would be behind this. I should have known better than to trust him.
“Amelia, slow down. Where are you now?”
“In the car with Callum. We’re near to home. West, you don’t understand. You’re in danger too!” Her voice breaks. “He’ll come after you next. I never should have agreed to this relationship. I’ve put you all at risk!”
I try to interject, to calm her down, but she’s too far gone.
“Amelia, breathe. I need you to breathe,” I urge, trying to calm her panic.
“Breathe? How can I breathe? Giovanni is ruthless! He’s not going to stop until he finds me. He’ll hurt you too! He might kill you.”
I grip the desk, my knuckles turning white. “Listen to me. We’ll figure this out together. Where are you now?”
“One block away from home,” she whispers, the crack in her voice twisting my gut. “I’m putting everyone at risk.”
“You’re not.”
“What if he comes for you? What if—” Her breath stutters before she gives a big sigh. “I’m putting too many people in danger.”
“No, don’t say that.”
“But it’s true. I’m a burden to everyone.”
Frustration builds inside me, but I push it down. “You’re not a burden. We made a deal, remember? We protect each other.”
“But what if—”
“Stop. You’re panicking.” I cut her off sharply. “Focus on what we can control right now.”
“Oh God,” she gasps. “Carly! I have to call her!” Her breaths quicken again, turning erratically as if she might choke on her fear.
“Amelia, wait—”
But the line goes dead. I stare at my phone, unable to decipher if it’s anger or fear coursing through me. How could this have spiraled so quickly out of control?
“My fucking father.” I slam my fist on the desk, startling Jackson.
“Call Lewis and find out where Giovanni Vincenzo is,” I bark. “While I find out where the hell my father is…and…call Callum, tell him to call the moment he knows Amelia is safe.”
“Giovanni Vincenzo,” Jackson says. “I don’t think that name will be that unusual in Italy,”
I give him a look that tells him I don’t give a fucking damn and to get on with it. He’s not the private investigator, Lewis is.