Page 149 of Vow Of Fire

I frowned. “Cartel?”

“I don’t know.” Frustration roughened his voice. “Their weapons didn’t look cartel standard. No chopped AK variants, no narco shit. Think they were American. Even had suppressors. I’d guess ex-military.”

I ground my jaw. Sounded like contractors. Mercs for hire. Not street soldiers. Los Santos Rotos would have used their own guys.

I raked a hand through my hair. It didn’t matter who they were, they were going to burn. I’d make sure of it.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Kyle muttered thickly. “I tried⁠—”

“Stop.” My voice came out deadly calm. “She’s still alive. That’s what matters.”

But inside I was tearing myself apart. Fuck. This was my fault. Mine.

I should have known distancing myself wouldn’t protect her. Should have realized that the second I let myself love her, the universe would find a way to punish me for it. Men like me weren’t built for happily-ever-afters. We ruined them. Destroyed them. Buried them.

And now Evelyn was out there somewhere with armed men and I didn’t know who the fuck had gotten her.

“I’m on my way,” I told him.

Grabbing my keys, I strode out of my apartment toward the elevator, phone still glued to my ear, and pushed the button hard enough to crack the plastic.

“If you pass out before I get there, Kyle, I’ll personally kill you.”

A weak laugh crackled through the speaker. “Copy that.”

An hour later, Leo’s dining room had been transformed into a war room. The whole family was there.

Valentina stood near the windows dressed entirely in black, calm as death itself, while Marco worked three cell phones simultaneously from the dining table. Nico sat barefoot on the couch with his laptop open in front of him, fingers flying across the keyboard, and Izzy, who’d arrived twenty minutes earlier, was texting madly, still wearing her tight jeans and a black and gold Metallica T-shirt beneath the leather trenchcoat from the night before.

Meantime, I was barely holding it together.

“It’s not the Russians,” Izzy said, her gaze arctic blue behind smudged eyeliner. “I’ve had eyes on Malakov’s people all night and this morning. They’re mobilizing against the cartel, not us.”

Marco nodded grimly. “Police chatter says three Colombian stash houses in Queens were hit an hour ago. Malakov is escalating fast. He’s not focused on us.”

“If it wasn’t the cartel and it wasn’t Malakov, who the fuck took her?” I snarled.

Silence answered me.

I glared around at my family, but nobody had the answers.

“It’s beginning to look like somebody else has entered the game,” Valentina said softly. “Someone smart enough to exploit the chaos we’ve created.”

“Well, they’ve made a fatal fucking mistake,” I growled.

Leo, who’d been quiet until now, studied me thoughtfully. “Who else knew Evelyn’s movements today?”

“Nobody,” I snapped. Then paused. “Only us. And Kyle, but he’s fighting for his life in the fucking hospital.”

“He gonna make it?” Nico asked quietly.

I gave a terse nod. “Yeah. He’s a tough bastard.”

I’d seen him survive worse.

An ugly feeling coiled in my gut. I hated feeling so goddamn powerless.

Then I remembered the watch I’d given her. I recalled she’d been wearing it when we argued last night, but was she wearing it when she’d left the apartment this morning? I hadn’t been awake, so I didn’t know.