“Phoenix. Artur. Clean up,” I ordered, turning away from the lifeless woman.
I walked out of the house and took a deep breath as soon as I hit the fresh air.
I felt Nikolay and Viktor beside me. “What’s next?” Viktor asked.
“The Black Club,” was my only answer.
Chapter 38
It didn’t take us long to find Enzo after receiving his location. It went down more smoothly than I thought. A small fight, a few guns drawn. Some bullets flew around us, and then I was dragging Enzo out of the club.
And now he was tied to a chair, locked in my basement.
He had been interrogated for hours, but I still hadn’t gotten the answers I needed.
He didn’t know where Alberto was.
I thought he was lying, but the truth was written all over his face. He really didn’t know. His fear betrayed his tough armor. He was scared.
Alberto was a smart man, but how long would he stay hidden?
I sat in front of Enzo as he coughed again, spitting a broken tooth. Blood dribbled and slid down his chin. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving almost painfully. Each intake of air appeared difficult for him.
He let out a small laugh, and my eyebrows shot up in surprise. His laughter sounded funny, almost forced. Leaning forward, I waited for him to talk.
“Why don’t you ask Nikolay?” he wheezed.
My spine straightened, and my muscles tightened over his words. “You are so sure…of yourself, but your most…trusted man…is a traitor. Ask…him…”
His head dropped, as if speaking those few words had tired him out.
Nikolay, who was standing behind him, wrapped his fingers around his throat and squeezed. Enzo struggled to breathe, his face growing red and purple. I even saw the blood vessels break across his skin.
When his eyes started to lose focus, I raised my hand, and Nikolay immediately let go. A laugh suddenly bubbled out of my chest. It was a low chuckle, but it sounded deadly and cold. Dangerous even.
I gave Enzo time to struggle through his breathing before speaking. “He is not the traitor,” I replied calmly, sitting back in my chair.
Enzo’s head snapped up as he coughed repeatedly. His eyes flared with surprise. “He…is…He is…spying…on…you…for Alberto.”
“Wrong,” I muttered back. “He isn’t. Too bad for Alberto he thinks that.”
“Wh…at?” Enzo sputtered, confusion written all over his bloody face.
Instead of answering, I stood up. Frustration built up inside of me as I walked out of the room. If Alberto’s men thought Nikolay was the traitor, then they didn’t know who the real traitor was.
Another smart move from Alberto. Someone from my estate was working for Alberto, but nobody else knew that except Alberto.
“Fuck!” I bellowed, punching the wall. I heard my knuckles crack, but the pain didn’t faze me. It only pissed me off more.
“What do you want to do?” Nikolay asked quietly. He was always calm, always ready for the next step.
“Don’t kill him. Not yet.”
Enzo was Alberto’s second in command. Alberto was going to need him. After all, his empire was currently at the hands of Enzo. Alberto would need to contact Enzo one day soon.
And when he did, we would be ready.
I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the wall.
Ayla’s face flashed behind my closed lids. The same sweet smile. The sound of her laughter.
Only this time, I heard her whisper. Three forbidden words.
I love you.
The words were never uttered between us, but it was there.
For the first time, I wished she said it. I wished I had those words to hold on to while my Angel was gone.
Chapter 39
Ayla
1 week later
What’s my name?
I tried to remember. I tried to whisper my name, but my lips wouldn’t move.
What’s my name?
I asked myself that question a few times, trying hard to remember. But everything was a blur. Nothing made sense. I couldn’t remember my name…my life…or anything.
I was just numb. Lost. I didn’t feel.
I didn’t know where I was. It was always dark, with just a little bit of light. The cold seeped into my skin until I would shiver uncontrollably.
My name. I had to remember my name.
Ay…A…it started with an A.
Al…Ay…Ay…
Closing my eyes, I laid down on the cold ground and pulled my knees to my chest. My memories were all broken, shattered around the place.
Ay…Ayla…
Ayla.
It sounded correct. Familiar. It sounded like me.
Ayla.
My name is Ayla.
I hung onto this new revelation. Ayla. My name was Ayla, and I had to remember. I couldn’t forget again. It was a routine. I would remember but then forget it again.
My name is Ayla.
As I repeated the phrase in my head, I heard a whisper. It was all in my head, but the whisper continued. It was one word. Two Syllables.
It wasn’t my name.
But it sounded so right. Like I needed to know it.
Every time I tried to remember my name, the word Angel was always a whisper in my head.