41

Jennifer

I wasn’t sure if it was a bad dream or something else entirely, but something pulled me from sleep in the middle of the night. At first, I felt utterly disoriented, but then I realized I was still in Vincent ’s bed, safe and sound.

Except, I was alone. He was nowhere to be found. I reached over to his pillow and felt it—cold. He hadn’t been there for some time.

Where had he gone?

A sudden wave of worry hit me. I sat up quickly, the cool sheets slipping off me as my heart raced. My mind spun with possibilities, and I bit my lip in unease.

What if something happened to him?

The logical part of me told me to stay put, to wait for him to return, but curiosity won over, as it so often did.

I climbed out of bed, grabbing one of Vincent ’s shirts and buttoning it up. The fabric felt soft against my skin, and as I pulled it closer to my nose, his familiar scent lingered. It was a small comfort, though it did little to ease the knot in my stomach.

Where could he be?

I quietly stepped out of the room and down the hallway, trying not to make a sound. The house was eerily silent, making me feel uneasy. Thinking that Vincent might be in his office, I decided to check there first.

The door was slightly open, so I gently pushed it and entered. His desk was covered with papers, maps, and files. There was a half-filled coffee cup, but when I touched it, I realized it had gone cold. He must have left some time ago.

I stood there for a moment, feeling like I was invading his privacy, but then I steeled myself and decided to carry on.

If Vincent wasn’t going to tell me what was going on, I’d figure it out myself.

I started to sift through the papers, looking for anything connected to his former boss, Carlo Rico , a name I remembered him mentioning. One file stood out—detailed logs of Rico ’s operations. As I read, my heart raced with a mix of fear and disbelief.

The logs detailed shipments of weapons, encrypted messages, and payments tying Rico to arms deals with North Korea. There were also emails exchanged between Rico and an unidentified FBI contact, plotting to frame Vincent as the mastermind behind these operations.

The realization hit hard. Rico wasn’t just involved in trafficking weapons—he was using the FBI to target Vincent , trying to take him down. Panic surged through me.

What had I gotten myself into?

Needing some fresh air, I rushed out of the office toward the front door but froze when I heard voices from the basement. I paused, pressing my ear against the door. Vincent ’s voice echoed from below, followed by Anthony ’s, and then another voice I didn’t recognize.

What was happening down there?

Suddenly, the sound of a punch landing filled the air, and I instinctively covered my mouth, suppressing a gasp.

Oh no…

I had to get out. I grabbed my keys and, trying to make as little noise as possible, slipped out of the house and hurried to my car.

The night was unnervingly quiet, oppressive, and full of danger. My hands trembled as I tried to unlock the car door.

Come on, focus…

I froze when I heard a boot scraping against the driveway behind me.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and panic shot through me. I whipped around, swinging my keys like a weapon. The man grunted as they scraped his face, but he didn’t let go. I kicked and punched with all my might, my heart pounding in my ears, but I refused to stop fighting.

I wasn’t going to be easy prey.

“Let go of me!” I yelled, landing a kick to his shin. He staggered back, allowing me a brief chance to run. I darted toward Vincent ’s house, but another figure emerged from the shadows, blocking my escape. I swung my fists, landing a few hits, but it wasn’t enough.

A second man grabbed me from behind, and I struggled fiercely, twisting and turning, trying to break free. My breath came in ragged gasps, desperation fueling my every move. But the man was too strong, and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t shake him off.

I kept fighting.

“Get off me!” I shouted, managing to land a kick to his knee. He grunted in pain, loosening his grip just enough for me to break free and make a run for it again.

But it didn’t last. The first man caught me again, this time more forcefully. I felt a sharp pain in my side as he twisted my arm behind me, and I cried out. Before I could react, a hood was slipped over my head, plunging me into darkness.

“No! Let me go!” I screamed, thrashing wildly. Though I couldn’t see anything, I kept fighting, my movements frantic. A blow to the back of my head sent a wave of pain, making stars burst behind my eyes. My knees buckled, and I struggled to stay upright, but the dizziness and the pain were overwhelming.

“Stop struggling,” a voice growled, but I ignored it, my survival instincts taking over. Someone dragged me along, the backs of my heels scraping against the ground. I kicked out again, but another blow to the back of my head silenced me.

“Please,” I whimpered, my voice breaking. “Don’t do this. Just let me go.”

But they didn’t listen.

Together, the two men forced me into a trunk. I fought them every step of the way, even though my head was spinning. I tried to scream, but the hood over my head made it almost impossible.

Panic squeezed my throat as I kicked and punched the trunk’s walls, but nothing I did made any difference.

Just when I felt like I couldn’t hold on any longer, a sharp pain hit the back of my head once more. The world spun, and my vision blurred as my eyes rolled back.

The last thing I heard before everything went dark was the loud roar of the car engine as it started.

When I woke up, my head throbbed, my vision was fuzzy, and my body ached. My hands were tied behind me, and my feet were secured to the legs of a chair. The room was cold and musty, and it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting.

As my vision cleared, I noticed a man sitting in front of me, leaning back in his chair with a chilling air of control.

There was no need for introductions. I knew exactly who he was.

It was Carlo Rico .

Though I had never seen his face, I could tell from the ruthless gleam in his eyes and the cold, calculating expression that this man was dangerous—even to someone like Vincent . Now, he had me.

I swallowed and tried to get a read on him.

Rico was tall, with dark, slicked-back hair and sharp, angular features. His expensive suit seemed out of place in the grimy room where I was being held. His dark eyes studied me intently, a predatory grin creeping onto his face.

“Well, well,” Rico said in a smooth, mocking tone. “Look who finally decided to wake up. Not feeling too great, are we?”

I shot him a glare, trying to hide the fear that was creeping in. I couldn’t let him know I was scared. I had to be strong—for Vincent , if not for myself.

“Who are you? What do you want?” I asked, pretending to be clueless.

Rico chuckled, shaking his head.

“We can skip the ‘who are you’ and ‘what do you want’ part. I know exactly who you are, Jennifer .” He leaned forward, his grin widening. “Let’s get straight to the point. What’s your connection to Vincent ?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied, keeping my voice steady. “I’m nobody. He’s just my neighbor. I hardly know him.”

Rico ’s grin turned cold, and he took out his phone, dialing a number.

“You see, Jennifer , I don’t believe you. Let’s see if Vincent feels the same way.”

He pressed the phone to his ear, his eyes never leaving mine.

I held my breath, feeling the tension as he waited for the call to connect. When he finally spoke, his voice was filled with amusement. “Vincent , I have something you might be interested in. Or rather, someone.” He paused, casting me a wicked smile. “Jennifer Clayton .”

I couldn’t hear what Vincent said, but Rico ’s grin widened, his eyes glinting with victory.

“Ah, I see. She does mean something to you,” he said, looking at me with a smirk. “You really should’ve been more honest with me, Jennifer .”

My heart sank as the realization hit—Rico now knew that I was important to Vincent , and that made me even more vulnerable. I opened my mouth to say something, but Rico stopped me with a shake of his head.

“I’d love to see you try,” he snarled into the phone.

Without another word, he ended the call and tucked his phone back into his pocket, his menacing gaze never leaving me.

“See, Jennifer ? It’s always better to tell the truth,” Rico said, settling back in his chair. “Now that I know how valuable you are, we can have a more… productive conversation.”

I swallowed hard, struggling to maintain my composure. “What do you want from me?”

“It’s simple,” Rico replied, leaning back, his voice calm but deadly. “I want to know everything you know about Vincent ’s plans. And if you don’t cooperate, well, there are plenty of ways to make you talk.”

Fear surged through me, but I steeled myself. I couldn’t give Rico what he wanted, no matter the cost.

I just prayed that Vincent would find me before it was too late.