Chapter 111 - ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN

Chapter 111: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN

VINCENZO

I stood up, my body moving on autopilot while my mind raced through every scenario, every way this could end with Angel back in my arms.

"Sir?" My second looked at me, waiting for orders. "What do you want us to do with him?"

I looked down at Kevin, still on his knees, his face pale with... not fear. But worry.

"Keep him here," I said. "If I don’t come back, kill him."

Then I walked out into the night to meet the ghost of the man I thought I’d killed.

The port was isolated at the far end of town. The smell of rusted metal, sea salt and decay was thick in the air. This was the kind of place where bodies disappeared and no one asked questions.

Then I saw him.

Damien.

He was waiting for me at the centre of the empty warehouse, standing in a pool of light like he was on a stage. Like this whole thing was a performance he’d been rehearsing for a long time.

He looked exactly the same. Dark hair. Sharp features. Bright grey eyes. That smile—that fucking smile playing on his lips made me want to tear his throat out with my bare hands.

I caught the red jagged burn scar that ran alongside his jaw, and the thought of him trapping Angel in this godforsaken place sent my blood roaring with violence.

He watched me approach, his hands clasped casually in front of him, completely at ease despite the gun I had pointed at his chest.

"Vin." His voice was warm, almost friendly. "You came quickly. I’m touched."

I didn’t respond. Just kept walking until we were ten feet apart, close enough to see the amusement dancing in his eyes, far enough that I could put a bullet through his skull before he could reach me.

"Where is she?"

Damien tilted his head, that infuriating smile widening. "No hello? No ’glad to see you survived’? I have to say, I’m a little hurt."

"I won’t ask again."

"You won’t ask again." He repeated the words slowly, tasting them. "That’s very, very intimidating, Vin. But we both know you’re not going to shoot me. Not yet. I’m the only one who knows where your precious daughter is."

My finger tightened on the trigger and the bastard still shrugged casually, "I know you’re smarter than that."

I wanted to rain bullet holes through his body, he was right and he fucking knew it. Right now, Angel was my only priority.

He took a step closer, hands still clasped, completely unbothered by the weapon aimed at his heart. "Kill me and you’ll never find her. Or maybe you will, eventually. In pieces. Scattered across—"

"Tell me where she is or I swear to God—"

"God?" Damien laughed, the sound echoing off the metal walls. "God has nothing to do with this. This is between you and me. It’s always been between you and me. She’s just the prize we’re both fighting over."

"She’s not a prize. She’s my daughter."

"Your daughter." He said the words like they tasted sour. "Your daughter who calls me Daddy. Your daughter who begged for my cock every night—"

I fired.

The bullet tore through the air and embedded itself in the wall an inch from his head. Damien didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Just stood there with that smile still playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Temper, temper," he murmured. "You almost hit me."

"The next one won’t miss."

"Yes, it will. Because you need me." He straightened his cuffs. "You need me to find her. And I need you."

"Why the fuck would you need me?"

Something shifted in his expression. Just for a moment. A crack in that perfect composure.

"Because I don’t have her."

I stared at him.

"What?"

"I don’t have her, Vinny." His voice was different now. Harder. The amusement bleeding away to reveal something darker underneath. "Someone else took her. Someone who wanted both of us to know about it."

He reached into his pocket. My finger tightened on the trigger again, but he only pulled out his phone.

"This was sent to me an hour ago." He turned the screen toward me. "Watch."

The video started playing.

Angel. My Angel. Tied to a bed with her wrists bound above a bedpost and a blindfold covering her eyes. She was crying—sobbing—her whole body shaking with the force of it.

"Daddy," she whimpered. "Daddy, please, I’m scared, please come get me, Daddy, please—"

The sound of her voice shattered something inside me.

"She’s calling for me," Damien said softly. "Isn’t that sweet?"

I wanted to kill him. Wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until the light left his eyes. But I couldn’t look away from the screen. I couldn’t stop watching my daughter cry and beg for someone to save her.

"Where is she?" The words came out barely human. "Who has her?"

Damien’s jaw tightened. For the first time since I’d arrived, he didn’t look amused. He looked furious.

"That’s what I’m trying to figure out." He pocketed the phone. "The message came with instructions. Coordinates. And a demand."

"What demand?"

His eyes met mine, dark and cold.

"They want both of us to come. Together." His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "It seems someone out there knows exactly how much Angel means to both of us. And they’re using her to draw us out."

The realization settled over me like a shroud.

"Who?" I demanded. "Who would—"

"I don’t know." Damien cut me off, and for once there was no mockery in his voice. "But I intend to find out. And when I do, I’m going to make them wish they’d never been born. We have to get her,"

For a single, horrifying moment, we were on the same side.

Two monsters, united by the only thing that mattered.

Angel.

"Show me the coordinates," I said.

Damien smiled. "I thought you’d never ask."​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​