Page 68 of Blind Devotion

The moment the bedroom door clicked shut behind me, I rang Franc. One, two, three rings. He only picked up on the fourth as I stormed down the hall.

“Boss.” He yawned. “Another late night? You know, I answer much better before one a.m. Is it—”

“What’d you find?”

“I need more time. A day’s not much.”

“Don’t bullshit me now.” I slammed my office door shut behind me.

“I’m not, boss. The things I found, they need verifying. There are inconsistencies, and I haven’t been able to pick up a trail yet. It’s like someone erased all traces.”

“Then give me the basics. Give me fucking something!”

“All I know is she’s gone. Missing just over eight months. Picked right off the Iannelli estate. Mom hung herself the day after she went missing. Brother killed dad a month and a half later. No one’s heard from or seen Persetta Iannelli since.”

“Who did it?”

“I’ve got information on a San Francisco MC’s involvement, but the trail goes dead after that.”

I snatched the Macallan from the bar in the corner and poured myself two fingers. The bottle of whiskey clinked against the glass, my hands shaking.

“What else?”

“I need more time.”

I pounded my fist against the closest cabinet. “That’s not good enough.”

“You’ve got to chill, boss.”He was lucky he wasn’t in front of me, or I’d have him by the throat. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I’ve got nothing yet. Whoever took her, they’re ghosts. I mean, her brother’s—”

“What about Renzo?” If he was involved, I’d gut him.

“He’s looking for her. As far as I can tell, he killed his old man because of what happened to her. His IT guys, they’re good. Not as good as me, but they’ve been at it since the beginning, and they’re stumped. Been running around in circles, backtracking. Every step forward, they go two steps back. This is going to take me a few days if I’m lucky.”

“You don’t need luck. Start with Xhafer Bogdani and work your way back. You’ll find her.”

“Fact or hunch?”

I hung up, not willing to answer, and dialed the Californian number I never made the effort to delete.

“De Villier.” My teeth gritted. I swore Renzo Iannelli butchered my name in that American accent of his on purpose. “I thought we agreed our talk was over.”

I didn’t have time for his posturing. Missing for over eight months. Those words were on a sick echo in my head. All while I avoided her, and for what? Almost fourteen years ago, fate flew her into my life, then stripped her out of it nine years later, and now dropped her right back in.

“Are you too fucking arrogant to ask for my help?” I snapped at him.

“What are—”

“Persetta. Renzo, what the hell were you thinking?Putain, you should have told me she was missing eight months ago.”

“Like you’d give a damn. Nine years you knew her, and you dropped her and never looked back for something that was never even her fault. Not once did you make the effort to contact her. I watched her suffer after you broke her heart. My mother and I worked to pick up the pieces when it wasn’t our place to.”

“We don’t need to rehash this.”

“Convenient for you. You were her idol, her best friend. She loved you.”

“She was a kid. She didn’t know what love was.”

“You’re an idiot if you really think that. You know she blamed herself for what happened. She thought you did too.”