Page 240 of Inferno

“Not in this territory. He’s taken a risk being here already.”

I swallow.

“This is what you’ll be dealing with.” He pulls up a picture of a large barn with a straw roof.

And pigs. So many fucking pigs outside.

“Probably uses them to eat his bodies,” Finn says matter-of-factly.

“Quite clever. Although, dumb registering any business in his real name,” he continues, and Enzo nods.

“Looks like we’re going pig farming.” I clap Finn on the shoulder.

“Our men are loading up the armored trucks now. Although, for speed, Mikhail managed to source a Bugatti Veyron. You’ll get there first in that. In the meantime, I’ll continue hacking into what I can. Keep the comms in.”

He ferociously begins typing, and I take that as my cue to vacate.

As Finn stops by the front door, I pause, looking to the room where Isabella is.

“I need to see her before I go. Help them load up, I’ll send Conan down,” I tell him.

“You got it.”

A sinking feeling resonates in me. Saying goodbye hurts. How Charlotte had found the strength to do this, I don’t know. But I will forever admire her.

As I approach the door, I hear her little giggles, and I wipe my hands over my face.

Fuck.

I need Charlotte back.

Chapter 93

CHARLOTTE

The door swings open, and my instinct is to lunge at him. Before my feet leave the ground, I come to a halt, staring at the detonator in his hand.

“Out,” he commands.

“Now!” he screams, and I jolt back.

Doing as he says, I need to waste time, drag this out long enough to be rescued if I can’t find myself an opening.

So I slowly make my way to the doors and drop onto the ground; as I do, two men grab my arms, holding me tightly in place.

“Tie her wrists and make sure she can’t get out,” he tells his men.

They force me to my knees on the dirt, and I pull up my nose as the foul pig smell assaults me. Yanking my arms behind my back, I hiss through the pain as the rough rope cuts into my wrists.

I kick my legs into the floor as they drag me away from the van, and they hold me still once I’m upright.

Vlad’s hands connect to my ribs, and I cry out.

“I love it when you fight me,” he whispers, and I shiver.

“Fuck. You.” I spit in his face.

He harshly grips the back of my neck and presses a gun to my temple as his men head off into the barn before us.

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