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“We need to leave,” Trevor said. “Cops are two minutes out.” The sirens were getting closer. “I got Sticks and Arnie in the back of the Nissan.”

“He’s right,” Nico, who’d been a quiet ball of tension beside me, finally said, “let’s get out of here.”

We regrouped in one of our Harlem warehouses. Arnie and Sticks were being treated for gunshot wounds. I called Sloane because the mob doc was on duty in the ER and couldn’t get away immediately. I trusted her more anyway.

But we had confirmation that the mastermind was Crowe Miller.

Sticks had a hole through his side and a concussion. He hit his head on the pavement when he got shot. “I can’t believe it, brother. Even if he had a mask on, I could tell it was Miller leading the bunch of men who attacked us.”

“Who was with him? Recognize anyone?” I asked.

“All were wearing masks,” Arnie gritted as Sloane extracted bullet fragments from his upper shoulder. “But I heard some of them shout at each other. Albanians, boss.”

Nico was pacing behind us like a jungle cat, casting us glares every few seconds as he brooded.

Trevor had fired up his laptop and was digging into more information about Miller.

Tommy and Divina arrived with a bunch of our soldiers. “They’re transferring the bodies to the morgue.” Tommy looked at me. “No Miller.”

“Is that even a question here?” Nico snapped.

“What’s De Lucci doing here?” Tommy moved toward him.

“You want to question why I’m here?” Nico headed him off. “My sister is fucking missing.”

“So is mine,” Tommy snarled.

And my wife is missing, I wanted to yell at them, but this wasn’t a pissing contest, and someone—me—needed to keep his head in the game and make sure no one went off half-cocked resulting in a bunch of us getting arrested. Because if that happened, I was really going to lose my shit.

“Now is not the time.” I stepped in between them and addressed Tommy. “We have seven dead. One in police custody. And these two are injured.” I nodded at Arnie and Sticks. “Trevor is the best I know at gathering intel.” I didn’t need to add that Trevor had access to government databases the mob couldn’t touch. “We need to find out Miller’s true identity.”

“You think he’s not this Crowe Miller?” Sticks asked. “We did his background check and he’s kosher?—”

“There’s something I’m looking into,” Trevor interrupted brusquely.

My phone went off with an unknown number.

My breath snagged as I answered, “Rossi.”

“Calling you back with a video call.” The line went dead and rang again. I gripped my phone so hard it was a wonder it didn’t shatter in my hand.

Miller’s face filled the screen. It was as if a snake had shed its skin and I could see its malevolent, serpentine stare.

“Hi, boss.”

“Where’s my wife?” I shouted, keeping my head on straight be damned.

“Oh, she’s taking a dip.” He turned the phone away from him.

The roar started in my head. Loud and so full of rage, it pressed against my eyes. If I thought I was living in a nightmare, it was only the beginning. Life and death meant nothing to me. I chose life only because of Bianca. The world would cease to exist if she wasn’t in it. Because if she wasn’t in it, I would take myself out. I wouldn’t live in a world without my Sunlight.

“Bianca…” I said her name with ragged anguish.

She was in a swimming pool with her wrists cuffed above her head. The water was at her neck level, but there was a commercial hose gushing water into the pool.

My eyes blinked.

I couldn’t even speak after I choked her name. It took all my strength to remain upright and not crumble in front of the fucker.