Page 47 of SINS & Riley (Dante & Riley #2)

ZVER

S abine’s word ripples in my ear.

Tuscany .

Tuscany was supposed to be untouchable.

That was the whole goddamned point. Thirty thousand acres dug into the hills like a fortress carved out of God’s own fist.

More surveillance than a Pentagon war room.

More armed men than a standing battalion.

If the world ended tomorrow, Tuscany was meant to be the last place standing.

Until now.

A million questions flood my brain. Only one claws its way out.

“How?”

Sabine’s still pale, her voice raw. “I don’t know. Emilio died before I could get more.”

My feet start moving. “Dominic, get the jet.”

“No.” Even rattled, Sabine is titanium. Unbreakable. “ I’m going to Tuscany. My op. My rules. And you —” her gaze locks on me, sharp enough to draw blood—“you’re staying here.” Her eyes soften, guilt bleeding through steel. “Plan B.”

I stare at her. “What the fuck is Plan B?”

“One that doesn’t involve you. You’re too—” She chokes on the words, then blows them out. “You’re too important to lose.”

Sacrifice.

Sabine’s going to sacrifice herself.

Save as many lives as possible and die with her ship like a fucking martyr.

I can’t let her do that. I won’t. She’s not going anywhere.

Before I can block her path, Dominic steps in, shoving his phone into my hand.

I glance down.

RBG

Riley’s Bodyguard.

He knows never to call. Not unless it’s an emergency.

Sabine’s already one step out the door.

“Damnit, Sabine—just give me a minute.”

She halts mid-stride, spine straight, eyes flashing with the kind of annoyance that says you have exactly one minute .

I’ll take it. Not that I have much of a choice.

I click Dominic's phone and answer. “What?”

“I tried to keep up with her. I couldn’t…” Boris’s voice is shredded, ragged with panic.

Boris never panics.

Goddamnit.

I swear to God, this woman is going to be the death of me.

“If Riley’s run again?—”

“She was following a woman.”

My pulse spikes. “What woman?”

“I don’t know.” Static spits across the line, as Boris catches his breath. “I think she said Lena.”

Sabine frowns, a crease carving between her brows. “She was supposed to meet Layla today. But Layla already checked in. Their conversation’s over.”

Layla. As in Mila?

I dart a glare back at Sabine. “Could she be in on this? It would make sense. She had access. To Riley. To Tuscany?—”

“Wait…” Boris stammers. “No. Not Layla. Leh-na .”

Realization crawls in slow, then slams like a sniper’s shot to the chest. It makes way as cold tar seeps into every last one of my veins.

Mother. Fucker.

“Elena. Fuck. It was a trap.”

Sabine checks her phone, her face draining. “Elena was missing from her room since last night. Everyone assumed she just needed space, but… how?” She shakes her head, rattled, her voice fraying at the edges. “Even Elena didn’t know where she was. The location is never disclosed.”

For a beat, I don’t move. Don’t breathe.

The silence before it all goes nuclear in my skull.

How did I not see this?

“The necklace.”

“What?” Dominic asks.

But Sabine knows. “Elena’s fucking necklace,” she says.

Andre pulled the exact same play with Elena that I did with Riley.

He put a tracker in her necklace.

Rage detonates through me, savage and hot. I didn’t save Elena. Andre set the bait, and I strolled right into his goddamn trap.

And now my stronghold—my sanctuary—is compromised.

My jaw locks, words like glass in my mouth.

“Riley.”

Sabine’s already halfway out, phone pressed to her ear.

“Sabine, wait?—”

“My op, remember?” I've already gone back on my word once with her. I won't break my word again. Reluctantly I nod. “You save your girl, Zver. Emilio has fucked my life for the last time. I’ve got this.”

With that, she's gone. I shift my focus to my own phone. “Find her.”

Boris lets out a frustrated grunt. “They’ve got ten minutes on me. How?”

Dominic’s voice is the calm before the storm. “Her watch. It’s another tracker. I’ll send coordinates.”

“I’m in pursuit.” I grab my Glock, slide snapping as I check the clip, and head for the door.

“Catch,” Dominic hollers.

Something sails through the air. I snatch it mid-flight.

I open my palm.

It’s glue. Dominic tossed me a small tube of super glue.

A symbol. A bond.

A stupid metaphor for fix your shit before the world falls apart.

I slip it into my pocket and keep moving.

I’ve already lost too much—my family, my father, pieces of myself I’ll never get back.

I refuse to lose Riley and our baby, too.