“Hello, Mr. Valenti.”
I froze. “Who is this?”
“The man you stole from.”
“Vadik.” It wasn’t a question.
“So, you admit you stole from me?”
His accent was thick, the Russian fucker sounding as evil as I had imagined. I took a step back, clutching the phone. “I didn’t fucking steal anything from you.”
“You stole my most precious possession, Mr. Valenti.”
“You listen to me, you crazy son of a bitch,” the veins in my arms bulged, my heart beating a thousand beats per minute, “Doe is not a fucking possession.”
“Doe?” He sounded amused, letting out an irritating as fuck laugh. “You mean Nessuno.”
“No. That’s not her name. Not anymore.”
More laughing.
“Vadik, if you value your fucking life—”
“You had no right to steal her from me.”
“I did not steal her from you, you motherfucker!” I wanted to break the goddamn phone in my hands. Anger mixed with fear was something new to me. It wasn’t a feeling I was used to. I hated it.
“If you want your sister back alive, I’d suggest you be a little nicer, Mr. Valenti.”
“You mean my sister and Doe.”
“Oh, no. No, I don’t. See, you might be able to get your pretty little sister back. But there is not a chance in hell you’ll get my little, broken girl back.”
“She’s not yours!” I was teetering on the edge. My mind was about to fucking explode because I had never felt so goddamn helpless before in my life.
“Here’s my deal, Mr. Valenti. I’ll give you your pretty, little sister back in exchange—”
“In exchange for what?” I spat out the words, my insides feeling like there were ten demons clawing their way out of me.
Hetsked. “It’s rude to interrupt—”
“You son of a bitch. In exchange for what?”
Silence.
“In exchange for you.”
“Done.” There wasn’t a moment of hesitation. I’d gladly trade myself if that meant saving Karina and Doe. “Name the place.”
“I think it’s only fitting if we finish this where it all started. Boston Harbor. Twenty minutes. I suggest you keep your little entourage of Valentis at home. We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
He hung up, and it took every ounce of control I had not to smash my goddamn phone. But I took a deep breath, trying to focus on what was important. And that was making sure the two most important women in my life stayed safe.
“Yo, bro.” Dante called. “Let’s hustle.”
There wasn’t any time for me to think anything through. I had twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to get to the harbor and fucking pray like hell my girls were safe.
“Dante,” I said as I rushed toward the car, “give me the keys. I’m driving.”