Chapter 118 -
Nia didn’t realize she’d stopped breathing. Santiago’s face burned behind her eyes. Isadora, tied to that chair, blindfolded, and alone, stared back at her even though the phone’s screen was black.
Micheal grabbed her arm firmly, pulling her away from the world she had just been catapulted to.
“Nia. Nia!”
She blinked and looked at him.
“You need to breathe…”
She pulled her arm free, gnashing her teeth with sadness and fear in her eyes.
“I’m fine.”
“Oh no, you’re not. You’re literally shaking like a leaf blown by the wind.”
She looked down at her trembling hands. Alas, he was right.
“She’s my family,” she said quietly, voice tight in her chest.
“I know,” he said softly, though the tension in his jaw betrayed him.
“She’s the only family I have.”
Micheal’s face tightened. “I know.”
She started toward the door, each step heavy, driven by panic and need. Micheal moved faster than she expected, blocking her path.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“To find her.”
“By yourself?”
“If I have to.”
Micheal shook his head slowly, dark eyes steady.
“You walk out that door right now, you’re dead before you even reach the gate.”
“Then I’m dead,” she said simply, defiance coiling through her chest.
She tried to step around him. He caught her shoulders, firm, holding her in place.
“Listen to me.” His voice dropped lower, urgency threading every word. “Leo’s twenty minutes out. Twenty minutes. You go now, alone, no plan, no backup, nothing—you’re handing yourself to him on a silver platter. Is that what you want?”
She stopped, looking at him. The fight and fear in her chest collided, leaving her unsteady.
“She’s out there, Micheal. She’s alone. She’s scared. She’s—”
“She’s alive. Santiago wants you. He won’t kill her until he has you. That’s the only reason she’s still breathing right now.”
Nia’s voice cracked. “You don’t know that.”
“I know Santiago,” he said, grip tightening on her shoulders. “I’ve watched him my whole life. He doesn’t kill bait. He kills leverage. There’s a difference.”
She stared at him, chest heaving.
“He’s going to hurt her.”
“Probably,” he said, almost like a statement of fact, and it hit her like a slap across the face.
Micheal held her gaze, unflinching. “I’m not going to lie. He’ll hurt her. He’ll make her suffer. He’ll make sure you know about it.” He paused, letting it sink. “But he won’t kill her, not until you’re there to watch.”
Nia’s eyes burned with fear and rage. Micheal pulled her into a hug. She stood stiff at first, then her hands found the back of his shirt, holding on like he was the only anchor in a stormy sea.
“Twenty minutes until Leo arrives, then we figure this out together,” he said quietly.
Her voice was low, almost a whisper. “And if something goes wrong?”
He shook his head, eyes sharp. “Then we adapt. Then we fight. But you going alone, that won’t help her. You’ll just give Santiago a reason to enjoy this more.”
She exhaled sharply. “I can’t just wait. She’s scared. She’s—she’s…”
“She’s alive, Nia.” His voice was calm, steady, but heavy with authority. “And she’ll stay alive because you’re not moving first. Trust me.”
Her hands fell from his shirt, clenching into fists at her sides. The weight of his words collided with her instincts, and for a moment, she almost broke.
“Twenty minutes,” he repeated. “That’s all. Then Leo will take over. Then we get her back. Together.”
She nodded slowly, swallowing back the bile of fear and panic. The anger she felt toward Santiago burned in her chest, raw and consuming.
Heavy footsteps echoed behind them slowly. Nia turned back and saw Leo standing at the end of the hallway.
His arm was bandaged beneath his jacket. His face was pale and exhausted, but his eyes… his eyes were something else entirely. They were sharp, alert, simmering with rage and calculation hidden behind his eyes.
He’d definitely seen the video. Someone had shown him on the drive home. She could tell by the way he looked at her. Like she was already broken, like he was already too late, and yet he carried himself with that signature resolve that always pulled him through. She pulled away from Micheal, walking toward him.
“Leo—”
“I know,” he said quietly, almost as if he could feel the panic in her pulse.
“I’m going.”
“I know.”
“Don’t try to stop me,” she said, voice wavering slightly under the intensity of the moment.
He reached up and touched her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone gently.
“No one’s dying tonight,” he said, voice low and controlled.
She grabbed his wrist, holding his hand against her cheek. “Promise me.”
He looked at her for a long moment, then pulled her close. Arms wrapping around her, tight, like if he let go she might vanish.
“I promise,” he said softly, but with the weight of a man who would do anything to protect the people he loved.
Leo pulled back just enough to look into her eyes.
“We leave at dawn.”
She nodded, trying to steady herself.
He leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. Taking her hand, he led her toward his room.
Micheal’s voice came from behind them. “I’ll get Christian. Start planning.”
The door closed behind them with a soft click.
Nia sat on the edge of his bed, watching him move to the window. Her hands clenched in her lap, nails digging into her palms, the tension in her chest refusing to ease. The quiet of the night was oppressive, but she didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She simply watched him, watched the man she trusted with her life prepare for the storm that was coming.
She shifted slightly, brushing her fingers against the table. The metal of her watch was cold against her skin. She closed her eyes, letting the steady weight of him at the window, the quiet rage, the planning mind, anchor her own fear.
“I’m not letting him do this,” Leo said, voice low, edged with pain. “Every second she suffers, every tear, every moment of fear—he’s going to pay brutally.”