Chapter 75: Nate

The silence inside the car is suffocating. Only the sound of Danny’s knuckles hitting the dashboard repeatedly breaks through it. Blood drips from his hands now, his skin bruised and split open from the countless punches. But he’s not stopping. He can’t.

Leo’s already thrown up twice. The first time after hearing Sofia’s mother grab her, that vicious hiss that came through the mic. The second time after her father stormed into the house and slapped her. The sound of the impact was so loud through the mic, so brutal, it felt like it hit all of us. And now… now Leo’s slumped in the seat, head between his knees, his body trembling like he’s barely holding on.

I grip the steering wheel so hard my hands feel like they’re cramping, my knuckles white. Every muscle in my body is taut, vibrating with anger, with the pure need to rush into that house and tear her father apart piece by piece. I’ve seen a lot of messed-up things in my life, probably more than most people will ever even imagine. But this… hearing Sofia, my girl, suffer like this? It’s pushing me to the edge.

I glance at Riley in the rearview mirror. He’s silent, his eyes fixed on the house in the distance, fists clenched in his lap. I know he’s holding it together, but barely. He’s got that look about him, like a storm’s brewing behind those cold, calculating eyes. When he lets loose… no one’s going to survive his wrath. Especially not her father.

But we can’t move. Not yet.

I close my eyes for a second, trying to steady my breath. Sofia’s been silent for hours now. No sounds through the mic, no movement behind the curtains. Just eerie silence. My gut twists, imagining her alone, tied up in that house, probably in pain. We heard her father drag her upstairs. The last thing we heard was the door slamming, a lock clicking into place, and then… nothing.

"She’s passed out, isn’t she?" Leo’s voice is a quiet whisper, shaky, broken. He’s still hunched over, barely able to look up. "She… she hasn’t moved or said anything since… since…"

Danny slams his fist into the dashboard again, cutting Leo off, and I flinch despite myself. I get it. He’s younger than me and Riley. They both are. And they haven’t seen the kind of shit we’ve seen. They’re not used to this level of twisted, gut-wrenching cruelty. But even for me… for all the dark shit I’ve been through, this is some of the worst.

It’s not just about violence. It’s about control. The way Sofia’s father talks to her, like she’s nothing, like she’s disposable. To hear those words and know it’s her… I can’t stomach it.

"Fucking hell," Danny mutters, his voice low and hoarse. His hands are trembling now, blood smeared across his knuckles. "We should have gone in when he hit her. We should’ve—"

"We can’t," I cut him off, my voice steady, though I’m barely holding it together myself. "She’s in there for a reason. She’s looking for something. We wait until she gives us the signal."

"How the fuck can you be so calm?" Danny snaps, his eyes flashing with anger, frustration rolling off him in waves. "That bastard’s in there hurting her! Our girl, Nate! She’s—"

"Shut the fuck up!" I yell, louder than I mean to, but I need to get through to him. To all of them. "We wait. She knows what she’s doing. And if we go in too soon, we blow the whole damn thing. Do you want her suffering to be for nothing?"

Silence falls over the car again. I can hear the wind blowing against the windows, a soft, eerie sound that only makes the tension worse. Riley hasn’t moved, hasn’t said a word, but I can see the anger in the way his jaw clenches, the way his fingers dig into his legs. He’s keeping it together, but only because he knows he has to.

"Sofia’s smart," I continue, my voice softer now. "She’s not just surviving in there—she’s getting evidence. I know it. She must’ve found something in that office earlier. We wait for her signal. And then we take her out. Not before."

Danny swears under his breath, running his hand through his hair, smearing blood across his forehead. He’s barely holding it together, but he nods, understanding the reality of the situation even if he hates it.

"I hate this," Leo mutters, finally lifting his head. His face is pale, eyes hollow, like he’s been through hell. "I hate not being able to help her. I feel like we’re just… waiting for her to break."

I don’t respond. I don’t have the right words. Because I feel the same way. We’re just waiting. And it feels like hell. I also can't tell them that I'm pissed shitless at them for encouraging her in this stupid plan. I said no from the jump. But they wanted to see it through. I can't bring that up, though, not right now. Not when they already feel like shit, and not when we're focused on keep Sofia alive.

But then… there’s a sound. Something faint. The unmistakable click of a door unlocking. All our heads snap toward the house at the same time.

“Did you hear that?” Danny whispers, his voice tight.

Before I can answer, we hear it. Sofia’s scream. It rips through the quiet night, cutting through the air like a knife. My blood runs cold, and without thinking, I grab the door handle, ready to bolt out of the car.

“No,” Leo mutters under his breath, his voice low and tense. “Fuck, no.”

The sound of her father’s voice filters through the mic, muffled, but we catch his menacing tone. There’s a dull thud, and I can only guess it’s her being woken up roughly. Then, there’s silence. And her dad… he’s threatening her.

It’s like everything is moving in slow motion. The words barely register until I hear Sofia’s voice, quiet but defiant, break through the static. “No... you're too... chickenshit to do anything... Dad.”

The car goes dead silent. I freeze. We all do.

*What did she just say*?

It’s as if her words hit us like a freight train. One second, we’re stunned. The next, everything bursts into chaos.

“Go! Now!” Riley growls, already launching out of the car. The rest of us follow, our feet pounding against the ground as we race toward the house.

The moment we reach the front yard, dozens of our guys seem to come out of nowhere. They burst into the house from all sides, swarming like an army. My heart pounds in my chest as I see them through the windows, moving swiftly, efficiently.

In seconds, the front door is kicked open, and we storm inside just as Sofia’s father is knocked to the ground, his face twisted in rage. Her mother follows, pinned under the weight of another crew member. They don’t even have time to react before they’re both restrained, their faces pressed into the floor.

Everything happens so fast, my mind can barely keep up. The house is filled with shouts, commands being given as our men secure the perimeter, making sure no one escapes.

But my focus is only on one thing—Sofia.

I push past the chaos in the living room, my eyes searching for her. And then I see her. One of our crew members is untying her from the bed, his movements quick but careful, his expression full of concern. Sofia looks so small in his arms, her body limp, but alive.

Thank God.

He turns toward us, and as soon as I reach them, he hands her over to me, gently placing her in my arms like she’s the most fragile thing in the world.

Her head rests against my chest, her breathing shallow, and I can feel the weight of everything she’s been through in the way she clings to me, barely conscious. But she’s here. She’s safe.

“I got you,” I whisper into her hair, holding her tight. “You’re safe now.”

Her fingers grip my shirt, weak but determined, and she whispers something so faint I can barely hear it. “The… the couch…”

I look down at her, confused, but she struggles to speak again. “Evidence… it’s… hidden in the couch.”

I nod, understanding. She’s already done what she needed to do. She found the evidence, even after everything she’s been through. Sofia is stronger than any of us could have imagined.

“Leo, check the couch!” I shout, and without hesitation, he runs to the living room, tearing apart the cushions. In seconds, he pulls out a stack of papers, his face lighting up with triumph.

“We got it!” Leo yells, holding up the documents.

Riley and Danny, who had just stormed in behind me, exchange a look, their expressions a mix of fury and relief. The plan worked.

Sofia did it.

I look down at her in my arms, her face bruised but her eyes still shining with that spark of defiance I love so much.

“We’re going home, baby,” I whisper to her. “You’re safe now. It’s over.”