Page 94

Antony nods. “There’s a helipad on the building. We’ll take a helicopter there, and go down. Brick has a floor plan of the penthouse and a plan to get in through the maintenance entrance. When we go in, you and three of my guys will find Estella. Brick will handle Vito’s security with some of the other guys. I’ll find Vito with backup.”

My jaw tightens. “I want Vito.”

Antony chuckles darkly. “You’re not in a position to negotiate, Sinclair. Do as you’re told, or I’ll leave you behind.”

And you’ll never see her again. He doesn’t need to say it for me to hear it. I nod sharply, accepting the two guns that Brick presses into my hands and the extra ammo.

“Helicopter’s waiting,” Brick says a moment later. “Let’s go.”

I’ve never seen New York City by helicopter before. It’s a view I might enjoy, if not for the fact that my mind is wholly on what’s ahead of us and the dangers we’ll face. On the need to get to Estella, no matter what.

We’re all in tactical gear, braced for a fight. Brick is with Antony and me, along with ten of Antony’s other, most trusted men. Some of them I know, a few of them I don’t. It doesn’t matter to me right now.

We all have the same goal.

The pilot brings the helicopter down, and we all drop down onto the rooftop of the building. Quickly, we make it down the ladder on the side of the building, while Brick makes short work of the lock on the outer door. As quietly as possible, we head to the maintenance door, the helicopter veering away from the building within seconds to avoid the sound lingering for too long.

Once again, Brick quickly overrides the lock, and we move down the stairwell in quick, careful silence. We ease open the door to the maintenance access, footsteps muffled as Brick goes for the final lock and eases the door open, all of us holding our collective breaths.

The maintenance door opens to a utility closet. Brick takes point, then two men, then me, three more, Antony, and the rest. We filter out into the hallway, with Brick motioning to me the direction I should go to look for Estella as he and Antony split off with their contingents. I can hear lowered voices, men speaking in adjoining rooms, and I stick close to the wall, moving carefully toward the stairs that lead to the upper floor.

We catch sight of a guard at the top of the stairs. I take him out with a silenced shot, one of the other men moving in quickly to catch the body before it can hit the floor. I move toward the door that was marked as a likely bedroom, the one further down the hall, since to the left is the master suite. We’re betting that he has Estella in a separate room right now.

Hopefully that bet pays off.

I keep the gun in one hand as I pick the lock with the other, the three men with me keeping a lookout in the shadows. It clicks, and I swing the door open just as I hear gunfire from downstairs.

“Move!” one of the men hisses. He and his two shadows are shifting toward the stairs. I hear the rattle of gunfire again, and I bolt into the room, sweeping it and finding Estella in an instant.

She’s on the bed, halfway up, her eyes wide with fear. My heart stops at the sight of her. Her beautiful face is marred with bruises, one eye swollen nearly shut. She’s holding one hand close to her chest, and when I see the fingers?—

At least three of them are at a strange, unnatural angle. Broken.

He broke her fucking fingers.

Fury wells up in me as I stride toward her, a visceral need to see Vito dead burning through me like a wildfire.

“Sebastian?” she gasps my name. “Sebastian—you’re alive…”

“I’m here.” I glance back, hearing more gunfire from downstairs. “Come with me. Your father is here too. You need to stay behind me, alright, little dove?”

She nods, trembling. I want to reach for her, to kiss her, to hold her, and never let her go. I want to scoop her up in my arms and run from this place to find somewhere that no one can ever hunt us down again. But I know better.

There’s no escaping this place, just the two of us. She has to go back to her father, and I?—

I know what comes next for me.

“Listen to me.” I step forward, one hand reaching up to smooth her hair away from her tear-stained face. “You have to listen, okay?”

She nods shakily. “You came for me?—”

“Of course I did.” I press my hand against her cheek. “I love you, little dove. Whatever happens, that will never change.”

“What do you mean, whatever happens?—”

“We’re going to get you out of here. Back home. But you have to listen and do as I say, alright?” I hold her gaze with mine. “Promise?”

She nods, biting her lip. “Sebastian?—”