Page 93 of Surprise Twins for the Mafia Prince
“Are you saying she’s not there?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m fucking saying. Is she still at your place?”
“Dario, I dropped her off at home over an hour ago. Had to get downtown to deal with some fuckhead roughing up one of the strippers at the club. I left her at your door and told her to stay put. Made it crystal clear she should call me or Luca if she needed to go anywhere.”
My brain jumps ahead as I end the call and immediately dial Luca while heading to the garage.
He’s not with her either—and her car is missing.
I’m not the type of man who panics. Never have been. But anxiety has its claws buried deep in my chest as I place a third call to her phone, this time leaving a message demanding she contact me immediately.
It’d almost be a relief to learn she just broke my rules and went out without protection, or even if she’d gotten fed up with this life and decided to leave me. That would hurt like hell, but it would be better than her being in danger.
And I know—I fuckingknow—that’s exactly what’s happening. Every instinct I have is screaming that my girl is at risk.
I search the house room by room. No signs of a struggle. Her things still in our bedroom. So she probably hasn’t run off.
And she wasn’t attacked here. There’s hope in that, thin as it might be.
I pull up the tracking app on my phone. Every vehicle I own has a tracker, including Paige’s car.
Was someone threatening her? Holding a gun to her head? Or worse—to her belly?
Ice water floods my veins at the thought. I force myself to breathe as the tracker location appears on my screen. Outside the city, on the edge of the desert. What the fuck is out there?
I’m about to find out.
Back in my car, I call my father while speeding toward the location. I explain the situation with clipped precision, knowing he’ll send backup. Whoever has my girl is going to pay with interest.
The GPS says twenty minutes to the tracker’s location, but I drive like the devil himself is on my tail and make it in less than fifteen. As I approach a house in the middle of nowhere, I slow down, scanning for threats. All I see is the house and Paige’s car parked out front. No other vehicles. No movement.
I pull over well before I reach the property. There’s nothing to conceal my car—no trees, no buildings—but at least I won’t announce my arrival with engine noise.
Everything inside me is screaming to charge in, guns blazing, and get my girl. Not knowing if she’s okay is driving me to the edge of sanity, but I know I can’t surrender to that impulse. Fear can’t rule this moment or I could make a fatal mistake.
So I approach with caution, gun drawn. The place is small with no fence, allowing me to slip around to the back. There’s a patiowith glass doors covered by shades—lucky break. I move past without being seen and find a solid back door. I test the knob. Unlocked.
I hesitate, pulse hammering in my ears. I don’t know what’s on the other side of this door. I can’t just stand here like a coward, but if I do something that gets Paige hurt, I’ll never forgive myself.
Tightening my grip on my gun, I turn the knob slowly, easing the door open enough to slip inside. I hold my breath, listening for any sign of threat.
Then I hear her voice.
Paige.
My legs nearly buckle with relief. She’s here. She’s alive. I’m not too late.
I take stock of my surroundings. A mudroom with washer and dryer to my left, coat rack to my right. An open doorway leads to a kitchen, but her voice is coming from farther away.
I creep closer to the doorway, freezing when I hear another voice. A man.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” he says, impatience dripping from every word. “You’ve always been a drama queen.”
“Why are you doing this?” Paige asks, and the hurt in her voice pierces me like a blade. “I thought you wanted me to come here because you wanted to protect me.”
What the fuck is happening?
“I had to get you here. It was easy since you were so desperate to see me.”
