Page 106 of The Underboss's Secret Twins

Let her go?

No.

That’s not an option.

I tuck the phone away, my foot pressing harder on the gas.

I know what I have to do.

But first, I have to find her.

26

SOFIA

The engine roars beneath us, the vibrations rattling my bones as the car tears down the slick road. My breath is shallow, my hands white-knuckled on the seatbelt. "Faster," I urge, my voice barely audible over the growl of the tires against wet asphalt.

The driver doesn’t need to be told twice. He grips the wheel tighter, jaw clenched, eyes sharp on the road ahead. The speedometer ticks higher, but so do my nerves.

The SUV behind us is relentless. Its headlights loom in the rearview mirror, two unblinking eyes locked onto their target. I can’t see who’s inside, but I don’t need to. The intention is clear.

They’re not just following.

They’re closing in.

A sharp turn approaches. The driver jerks the wheel, sending us skidding dangerously close to the curb before he corrects. I slam against the door, my ribs aching from the impact, but I barely register the pain.

I twist in my seat to get a better look.

The SUV mirrors our every move, its bulk cutting through the rain-slick streets with terrifying precision. Whoever they are, they know what they’re doing.

They know where we’re going.

"We can’t keep this up," the driver grits out, his voice tight. "They’ll run us off the road before we even hit the city limits."

My mind races. The main roads are too exposed. We need an exit. A way to disappear before?—

A brutal slam from behind lurches us forward.

My body whips forward against the seatbelt, a sharp gasp ripping from my throat.

"Shit!" the driver curses, wrenching the wheel to regain control.

The SUV falls back for a breath—only to accelerate again.

They’re toying with us.

My fingers fly to the door handle, gripping it like a lifeline. I scan the street ahead, heart hammering. Options. I need options.

A side street appears on the right—a narrow, dimly lit alleyway wedged between two old brick buildings.

"Turn here!" I shout.

The driver hesitates. "That’s a dead end!"

"Do it!"

He obeys.