Chapter 21 Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Nina’s POV
I woke up tangled in limbs and silk sheets.
Dante’s arm was draped possessively across my waist. Enzo’s hand rested on my hip. Nikolai’s chest pressed against my back, his breath warm against my neck.
All three of them. In one bed. With me in the center.
My body ached in the most delicious ways. Every muscle felt used, claimed, thoroughly worshipped. Marks covered my skin, bruises and bites that would take days to fade. Evidence of exactly how thoroughly they’d kept their promise.
By the time we’re done with you, you won’t remember your own name. Just ours.
Dante had been right. Somewhere between the third and fourth time they’d made me come, I’d stopped being Nina Alvarez entirely and became just theirs. Their woman. Their obsession. Their everything.
And God help me, I’d loved every second of it.
Sunlight streamed through the windows. Morning. I’d lost track of time somewhere around midnight when Nikolai had carried me to the shower and Enzo had joined us and Dante had watched from the doorway with dark, possessive eyes.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
I reached for it carefully, trying not to wake them.
Unknown number.
I almost didn’t answer. Almost let it go to voicemail.
But something made me slide out of bed, wrap myself in Dante’s discarded shirt, and step into the hallway before answering.
“Hello?”
Heavy breathing on the other end. Then a woman’s voice, shaking and terrified.
“Nina? Nina Alvarez?”
I didn’t recognize the voice. “Who is this?”
“My name is Carmen Rodriguez. I’m… I was your father’s assistant.” A sob caught in her throat. “You need to come. Right now. Please. He’s dying.”
The world tilted sideways.
“What?”
“Your father. He was attacked. Stabbed. Multiple times. He’s at Mercy General Hospital. The doctors say…” Another sob. “They say he won’t make it through the day. He’s asking for you. Please. You need to come now.”
My father. Dying.
The man who’d sold me. Who’d betrayed me. Who I’d told I was done with just days ago.
“I’ll be there,” I heard myself say.
I hung up. Stood there in the hallway, my mind spinning.
My father was dying. And despite everything, despite all the hurt and betrayal and anger, something in my chest cracked open.
The bedroom door opened behind me.
Dante stood there, pulling on pants, his eyes alert despite having just woken up. “What’s wrong?”
“My father. He’s in the hospital. Stabbed. They say he won’t make it.”
Dante’s expression didn’t change. “Could be a trap.”
“I know.”
“You still want to go.”
It wasn’t a question.
“He’s my father,” I whispered. “Even after everything, he’s still my father. I need to… I need to see him. One last time.”
Dante studied my face for a long moment. Then he nodded. “We all go. Full security detail. If this is a trap, we end it.”
Twenty minutes later, we were in the armored SUV. Me, Dante, Enzo, and Nikolai in one vehicle. Three more SUVs filled with armed guards following behind.
The hospital was chaos.
Police cars filled the parking lot. Yellow crime scene tape blocked off sections of the emergency entrance. News vans clustered near the doors, reporters shouting questions at anyone who walked past.
“Stay close,” Dante ordered as we got out.
His hand settled possessively on my lower back. Enzo moved to my right, Nikolai to my left. Guards surrounded us in a protective formation.
We pushed through the chaos into the hospital.
Carmen was waiting in the lobby. She was young, maybe thirty, with tear-streaked makeup and shaking hands. When she saw me, she rushed over.
“Thank God. He’s been asking for you. Room 347. ICU. But the police want to talk to you first. They think—”
“I don’t care what they think,” I cut in. “Where is he?”
She pointed to the elevators.
We headed that way. Two cops tried to stop us.
Dante handled them with cold efficiency, flashing some kind of credentials I didn’t know he had. “She’s the victim’s daughter. She has a right to see him. You can ask your questions later.”
The cops backed down.
We made it to the ICU.
Room 347 was at the end of the hall, surrounded by more police. A doctor intercepted us before we could enter.
“Are you Nina Alvarez?”
“Yes.”
“Your father is in critical condition. Multiple stab wounds to the abdomen and chest. We’ve done what we can, but the damage was extensive. He’s conscious, but weak. He doesn’t have much time.”
The words felt distant. Unreal.
“Can I see him?”
“Five minutes. That’s all I can give you.”
I looked at Dante. He nodded. “We’ll be right outside.”
I walked into the room alone.
My father looked small in the hospital bed. So much smaller than I remembered. Pale. Broken. Tubes and wires connected him to machines that beeped softly in the quiet.
His eyes opened when he heard me enter.
“Nina,” he whispered. “You came.”
I walked to his bedside, my throat tight. “Who did this to you?”
A weak smile. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
He coughed. Blood flecked his lips. “My creditors. They decided I was more valuable dead than alive. Insurance policy. They could collect on my life insurance and still go after you for the debt.”
Of course. Of course it was about money. It was always about money.
“I’m sorry,” he continued, his voice fading. “For everything. For your mother. For selling you. For being a coward and a failure and the worst father imaginable.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. “Why did you do it? Really?”
“Because I thought they would protect you better than I could.” He reached for my hand. His fingers were cold. “And I was right. Wasn’t I? You’re alive. You’re safe. You’re…”
“Theirs,” I finished. “I’m theirs now.”
“Good.” His eyes closed. “That’s good. Better them than the vultures circling my corpse.”
“Dad—”
“I have something for you.” He fumbled with his other hand, pulled something from under his pillow. An envelope. “Take it. Don’t open it until you’re somewhere safe. Promise me.”
“What is it?”
“Insurance. Protection. The truth about everything.” He pressed it into my hand. “Promise me, Nina. Don’t open it here. Wait until you’re home.”
“I promise.”
He smiled. Relaxed back into the pillows. “I loved your mother. I want you to know that. Everything I did, every mistake I made, it was trying to protect what was left of her. Protect you.”
“I know.”
“You look like her,” he whispered. “So beautiful. So strong. She would be proud of the woman you’ve become. Even if I’m ashamed of the father I was.”
A monitor started beeping frantically.
Nurses rushed in, pushing me aside. The doctor appeared, shouting orders. Machines screamed.
I backed out of the room, clutching the envelope.
Dante caught me before I could fall. “Nina.”
“He’s dying,” I choked out. “He’s really dying.”
We stood in the hallway while the medical team worked frantically. While the monitors screamed. While my father’s life slipped away in that sterile white room.
It took seven minutes.
Seven minutes for the beeping to go steady. For the nurses to stop moving. For the doctor to check his watch and call time of death.
7:43 AM.
Victor Alvarez was dead.
I stared at the closed door, the envelope clutched in my hand, and felt… nothing. No grief. No relief. Just emptiness where my father used to be.
“We need to leave,” Enzo said quietly. “Before the police start asking questions we can’t answer.”
Dante’s arm tightened around me. “Can you walk?”
I nodded.
We made it back to the elevators. Down to the lobby. Almost to the exit.
Then Carmen appeared again, her face pale, her eyes wide with terror.
“Nina. Wait. There’s something I need to tell you. About who did this. About—”
She never finished the sentence.
The gunshot was deafeningly loud in the crowded hospital.
Carmen’s eyes went wide. Blood bloomed across her chest. She fell.
Chaos erupted.
Screaming. People running. Security shouting.
Dante threw me to the ground, his body covering mine. Enzo and Nikolai drew weapons, scanning for the shooter.
More gunshots. Glass shattered. Someone else screamed.
“There!” Nikolai pointed.
A figure in black, face covered, gun raised. Standing near the emergency exit.
Our guards returned fire.
The figure ran.
“Get her out of here!” Dante roared at Enzo. “Now!”
Enzo grabbed me, hauled me to my feet, and half-carried me toward the parking lot. Nikolai provided cover, his gun out, scanning for threats.
Behind us, I heard more gunfire. Heard Dante shouting orders. Heard sirens getting closer.
We made it to the SUV. Enzo shoved me inside, climbed in after me, and the driver peeled out before the door was even fully closed.
“Dante,” I gasped. “He’s still—”
“He’ll be fine,” Enzo said, but his hand was white-knuckled on his gun. “He can handle himself.”
We sped through traffic, running red lights, the other security vehicles flanking us. My phone buzzed.
Dante.
Safe. Heading back. Stay with Enzo.
I sagged with relief.
Then I remembered the envelope.
I looked down at it, still clutched in my shaking hand. My father’s last words. The truth about everything.
“What is that?” Enzo asked.
“I don’t know. My father gave it to me. Told me not to open it until I was somewhere safe.”
Enzo’s eyes narrowed. “Then we wait until we’re home.”
The drive took twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of tense silence and adrenaline crashes and questions I couldn’t answer.
Who had shot Carmen? Why? What had she been about to tell me?
We pulled into the estate. Guards swarmed the vehicle, checking the perimeter, securing the house.
Dante’s SUV arrived five minutes later. He climbed out, unhurt but furious.
“Inside,” he ordered. “All of us. Now.”
We gathered in his office. Me, Dante, Enzo, Nikolai. The door locked. Guards posted outside.
Dante turned to me. “Open it.”
My hands shook as I tore open the envelope.
Inside was a USB drive. A single sheet of paper. And a photograph.
I looked at the photograph first.
And my blood turned to ice.
It was Isabela. Sitting across from my father in a restaurant. The timestamp on the photo was dated three weeks ago.
Before the attack. Before everything.
“No,” I whispered.
I unfolded the paper. My father’s handwriting, shaky and rushed.
Nina,
If you’re reading this, I’m already dead. I’m sorry. For everything.
Three weeks ago, a woman named Isabela Cortez approached me. She offered me information about your location, your security, everything. In exchange for money.
I was desperate. I paid her. I used the information to hire men to extract you. Not to hurt you. To save you. I thought I was rescuing you.
But she played me. The men she recommended were assassins, not extraction specialists. They were sent to kill you, not save you. She wanted you dead.
The USB drive has proof. Recordings of our meetings. Her bank accounts. Everything.
I realized too late what I’d done. I tried to stop it. That’s why they came for me.
I’m sorry I failed you. Again.
Protect yourself. Trust no one.
Dad
The paper fell from my shaking hands.
Isabela.
The woman Dante had used to make me jealous. The woman who’d been in this house, drinking coffee, smiling at me.
She’d sold information about me to my father. Set up the attack that got me shot. Got my father killed.
And she was still out there.
“That bitch,” Nikolai growled, reading over my shoulder. “She played everyone.”
Dante’s expression was carved from ice. “Enzo. Pull every record we have on Isabela Cortez. Bank accounts, phone records, known associates. Everything.”
“Already on it.” Enzo was at the computer, typing furiously.
I stared at the photograph. At Isabela’s smiling face. At the proof of her betrayal.
She’d tried to have me killed.
And when that failed, she’d gotten my father killed instead.
Probably killed Carmen to stop her from exposing the truth.
“We find her,” Dante said, his voice deadly calm. “And we end this.”
My phone buzzed again.
Unknown number.
I answered on speaker.
“Hello, Nina.” Isabela’s voice. Sweet. Mocking. “I heard about your father. Such a tragedy. My condolences.”
“You killed him,” I said.
“Did I? I thought his creditors did that. So hard to keep track.” She laughed. “But yes. I may have pointed them in the right direction. After he failed to deliver on his promise to get you away from my men.”
“They were never your men.”
“No. But I was sleeping with them. Which gave me certain… privileges. Until you showed up and ruined everything.”
Rage, hot and vicious, burned through my veins. “Where are you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Another laugh. “Here’s the thing, sweetheart. You took everything from me. My position. My security. My future. So I’m going to take everything from you.”
“Try it.”
“Oh, I will. In fact, I already have.” Her voice turned cold. “Check your cameras. The ones in the east wing. Near Nana’s quarters.”
My blood froze.
Enzo was already pulling up the security feeds.
The screen showed Nana’s room. Empty. The bed made. No sign of her.
Then a new video feed appeared. Sent directly to Dante’s computer.
It showed Nana. Tied to a chair. Gagged. Tears streaming down her face.
And Isabela standing behind her, a knife pressed to her throat.
“You have two hours,” Isabela said through the phone. “Come alone to the address I’m about to send you. No guards. No weapons. No men. Just you. Or I start cutting pieces off the woman who’s been like a mother to you.”
The video feed cut to black.
An address appeared on my phone. An abandoned warehouse on the docks.
“Don’t even think about it,” Dante said.
But I was already standing. Already moving toward the door.
“She has Nana.”
“It’s a trap.”
“I don’t care.” I looked at him. At all three of them. “She has Nana. The only person in this world who’s been kind to me without wanting something in return. I’m going.”
“Not alone, you’re not,” Nikolai growled.
“She said alone or she kills her.”
“And you believe her?” Enzo demanded. “She’s going to kill you both either way.”
“Maybe.” I grabbed my jacket. “But if there’s even a chance I can save Nana, I have to try.”
Dante stepped in front of the door, blocking my path. “You’re not thinking clearly. We can send a team. Extract her. Handle this properly.”
“In two hours? She’ll be dead before you even get there.”
“Better her than you.”
The words hung in the air like a slap.
I stared at him. “You don’t mean that.”
His jaw clenched. “You’re ours, Nina. We don’t trade our woman for anyone. Not even Nana.”
“Then you don’t know me at all.” I pushed past him. “Because I’m going. With or without your permission.”
I made it three steps before Nikolai grabbed my arm.
“Let me go,” I said.
“No.”
We stood there, locked in a standoff. Me pulling toward the door. Him holding me in place. Dante behind me, radiating fury. Enzo watching with calculating eyes.
Then Enzo spoke. “What if we give her what she wants?”
Everyone turned to look at him.
“Explain,” Dante demanded.
“She wants Nina. Alone. Unarmed. Helpless.” Enzo’s smile was cold and vicious. “So we give her that. Or we make her think we’re giving her that.”
Understanding dawned in Dante’s eyes. “You want to wire her.”
“Audio. Video. Tracker. The works. She goes in alone, but we’re watching. Listening. The second Isabela makes a move, we move.”
“She said no weapons,” I protested.
“She’ll search you,” Enzo agreed. “But she won’t find what we hide. Trust me.”
I looked between them. At these three dangerous men who’d become my world.
“You’ll really let me go?” I asked Dante.
His expression was torn between rage and resignation. “I’ll let you walk into that warehouse. But I’m coming in right behind you. And if she touches one hair on your head, I’m burning that building to the ground with her inside it.”
I nodded. “Deal.”
Enzo disappeared, came back ten minutes later with equipment. A tiny camera hidden in a button on my jacket. An audio feed stitched into my collar. A tracker injected under my skin at the base of my neck.
“We’ll hear everything,” he promised. “See everything. You’re not going in alone. Not really.”
Dante pulled me aside while Enzo finished the setup.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly. “We can find another way.”
“She has Nana.”
“I know. But Nana would want you safe more than she’d want to be rescued.”
“Maybe.” I touched his face. “But I can’t live with myself if I don’t try. You understand that, don’t you?”
He closed his eyes. “I understand that you’re too brave for your own good. That you’re loyal to a fault. That you’re going to get yourself killed one day trying to save everyone else.”
“Not today.”
“You better be right.” He kissed me. Hard. Desperate. “Come back to me. Come back to us. Or I swear to God, I’ll raise you from the dead just to kill you myself.”
I almost smiled. “I promise.”
Thirty minutes later, I was in a car heading for the docks. Alone except for the hidden cameras and trackers.
Behind me, in three separate vehicles, Dante and his men followed at a distance.
The warehouse loomed ahead. Abandoned. Dark. Dangerous.
I parked. Got out. Walked to the door.
My phone buzzed.
Come inside. Third floor. Don’t keep me waiting.
I pushed open the door and stepped into the darkness.
Behind me, through the hidden audio feed, I heard Dante’s voice.
“We’re right behind you, baby. I’ve got you.”
I took a breath.
And walked into the trap.