Isaia: Chapter 33

I slam the door so hard it cracks against the wall, but I don’t care. The sound barely registers over the roar in my head.

My boots echo against the marble floors as I storm into the study, fists clenched, blood pounding in my ears.

She’s gone. Everly. Gone. I can’t fucking breathe past the thought.

Alexius and Nicoli are waiting in the study, their identical faces grim, but I don’t give a damn about their calm. I don’t give them a chance to speak. “Everly’s fucking gone.”

Nicoli raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“She didn’t show up for her shift this morning.” I pace, my pulse thundering. “Molly called me. I went to her house, and she wasn’t there. Half her clothes are gone. The fucking dog is gone. Someone took her.”

Alexius straightens, his jaw tightening. “We have people watching her house. If something happened, they would’ve reported it.”

“Well, someone fucked up because she’s gone.”

Nicoli downs a mouthful of bourbon. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe she just,” he shrugs, “left?”

“What?” I whirl on him. “No. No, she wouldn’t just fucking leave. And even if she did, where was our security on her? No one reported shit.”

They don’t answer. My chest heaves as I fight to keep myself from ripping the room apart.

“Where’s the guard that was assigned to her last night?”

“Here.” Maximo steps into the room, the guard in question trailing behind him. The man’s pale and shaking like he knows what’s coming.

Alexius speaks first, calm but cold. “Isaia, let’s not⁠—”

“Where were you?” I snap at the guard.

“I…I wasn’t…” the man stutters, and I’m seconds away from strangling a complete fucking sentence out of him.

I grab him by the collar and shove his back hard against the wall, fuming. “Where. The fuck. Were you?”

“Mr. Del Rossa, I’m…I’m so fucking sorry, man. You were all at the fundraiser. I assumed⁠—”

“You assumed?” My eyes narrow, my pulse going apeshit. “Has no one told you,” I pull and slam him back, his head hitting the wall with a sickening thud, “that assuming is the master of all fuckups?”

“Sir, I’m sorry. I didn’t⁠—”

I grab my gun.

“Isaia.” Alexius steps forward. “Don’t⁠—”

I pull the trigger. I don’t blink. I don’t even hear the gunshot that should be deafening in the confined space. All I hear is my blood boiling, booming in my ears.

The man crumples to the floor, blood slithering out of his head onto the marble. My chest rises and falls, my breathing sharp and uneven, but I don’t feel anything.

No guilt. No hesitation. Nothing.

I just want my fucking girl back, and I’ll kill a thousand more if that’s what it takes.

“Jesus Christ,” Nicoli mutters, running a hand through his hair.

“You really should start picking our security better,” I say to all of them, pulling a hand through my hair. “Because this fucker didn’t cut it.” I spit on his corpse, my rage pumping, the veins on my hands bulging.

Alexius doesn’t even look at the dead man. His focus is entirely on me. “Was that really necessary?”

“It was either a bullet through his skull, or Caelian’s.” Without taking my eyes off Alexius I aim at the door where Caelian just appeared.

“Hey, what the fuck did I do?”

“Your smirk is too fucking loud, and I hate your face.”

“Jesus,” Caelian whines. “You didn’t think to check and make sure this fucker was in position?”

“I assumed⁠—”

Cealian cocks a brow.

“Fuck you,” I spit out.

He shrugs. “It’s the yellow car, man. It makes you stupid.”

“I will shoot you. In the face.”

“If you need help getting your balls out of the twist they’re currently in, just fucking ask.”

“Shut up, Caelian. Maximo, get the jet ready. We need to leave for New York A.S A. fucking P.”

“New York?” Alexius frowns.

“Yeah. I already know who took her and to where.”

“Care to enlighten us, brother?” Nicoli lights a cigarette, eyes trained on me.

“Rinaldi. He took her back to New York.”

Alexius leans back in his seat. “Why would he do that?”

I give Caelian a knowing look, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.

“He wants to auction her off to the highest bidder,” I say, and technically it’s not a lie—just a slight bending of the truth. But I’m doing what I need to do…for her, for us. The thought of her standing at Anthony’s side, her hand in his, her lips pressed to his, him claiming her—not just her body but everything, her future, her freedom⁠—

Fuck!

It’s like madness pounding against my skull, rage slicing through every muscle.

There’s just no fucking way that he gets to have her. She’s mine. She’ll always be mine, and no one, not Anthony, not Rinaldi, not the fucking Pope, is taking her from me.

I grab my jacket and stomp toward the exit when Alexius calls after me, “We can’t just fly to New York without a fucking plan, Isaia.”

“There’s only one plan, brother.” I reach the door and pause. “I’m taking her back. And God help anyone who gets in my way.”