Chapter One Hundred And Forty One

The silence after the call was deafening. My pulse roared in my ears, my grip tightening around the phone until my knuckles turned white.

Thomas thought he could play with me. Thought he could dangle Sofia's life in front of me like a fucking puppet master.

I saw red.

Without hesitation, I turned and raised my gun.

Tyron's eyes went wide. "Wait-"

The gunshot echoed through the alley.

Tyron slumped against the brick wall, blood trickling from the hole in his forehead.

Luca flinched but didn't say a word.

I exhaled sharply, lowering my gun, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.

"Get rid of him," I muttered, my voice like ice.

Luca swallowed hard but nodded.

I turned away, my mind already locked on my next move.

The first hints of dawn bled into the sky, painting the city in muted grays and cold blues. The alley smelled of blood and gunpowder, but I barely noticed. My mind was already elsewhere-on Thomas, on Sofia, on the fucking war he just declared.

Luca moved quickly, dragging Tyron's lifeless body away as I stalked toward my car. The morning air was sharp, biting against my skin, but the fire in my veins burned hotter.

I slid into the driver's seat, gripping the wheel so tight my fingers ached.

Sofia was alive. For now.

But for how long?

I slammed the car door shut, inhaling deeply, trying to calm the inferno raging inside me. It didn't work.

Thomas wanted me to stop looking.

That wasn't going to happen.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed the one person who'd know where to start.

The call rang twice before a gruff voice answered.

"What?"

"I need a location," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Now."

A pause. Then, "Who's the target?"

"Diego."

A low whistle. "You're really about to stir some shit, huh?"

I ran a hand over my jaw. "Just find him."

The line went dead.

I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat and revved the engine.

By the time the sun fully rose over New York, I'd have Diego in my sights.

And then?

Then, I'd make sure Thomas knew-he just made the biggest mistake of his life.

The city was waking up, but I had been awake all night. My mind was running on pure adrenaline, fueled by rage and the promise of retribution.

I drove fast, weaving through the early-morning traffic, my fingers drumming impatiently against the wheel. Every second wasted was a second closer to whatever hell Thomas had planned for Sofia.

My phone vibrated.

I snatched it up without looking at the screen. "Talk."

A familiar voice rasped through the speaker. "Diego's holed up in a safe house in Queens. Old warehouse, near the docks."

Queens. Of course. The bastard was smart, keeping himself away from the heart of the city. But not smart enough.

I ended the call without a goodbye, my foot pressing harder on the gas.

Fifteen minutes later, I was there.

The warehouse was exactly what I expected-rusted metal, boarded-up windows, the faint stench of oil and saltwater clinging to the air. But I wasn't stupid enough to walk in blind.

I pulled up a block away, stepping out of the car as I surveyed the area. Two men posted at the entrance. Armed. Probably more inside.

Good.

I wanted them to fight back.

I rolled my shoulders, flexing my fingers. Then, without hesitation, I moved.

I reached the first guard before he even registered my presence. My gun was up, silencer in place, and the bullet was through his skull before he could even react.

The second barely had time to pull his weapon before I grabbed him by the throat, shoving him hard against the warehouse wall. His eyes went wide with recognition.

"Theo-"

I cut him off with a knife to the gut, twisting it slow, watching the fear bleed out of him as he gasped for air.

I let him slump to the ground, yanking my knife free before stepping over his body.

The front entrance was too obvious. Too easy. So I took the side.

The metal door groaned as I pushed it open, slipping inside like a shadow.

Inside, the warehouse was dim, the air thick with smoke and stale beer. A handful of Diego's men were scattered around, laughing, drinking-completely fucking unaware.

A mistake.

I moved fast. Silent.

One bullet. Two. Three.

Bodies dropped before they even realized they were being hunted.

And then-

A voice. Low. Amused.

"You always did know how to make an entrance."

I turned, my gun raised.

Diego leaned against a stack of crates, completely at ease. A cigarette dangled from his lips, his hands resting casually in his pockets.

But his eyes?

Sharp. Watching. Calculating.

I took a step closer, my finger tightening on the trigger.

"Where is she?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm.

Diego exhaled a slow stream of smoke. Smirked.

And then?

He fucking laughed.

Diego's laughter echoed through the warehouse, low and taunting. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, eyes locked onto mine like he was enjoying the fucking show.

Then, with a smirk, he exhaled.

"You killed my man, Tyron."

I didn't react. Didn't flinch. Just kept my gun trained on him, my jaw locked tight.

"He was a rat," I said coldly. "Like the rest of your crew."

Diego clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Tsk, tsk, Theo. Always so quick to spill blood." He flicked ash onto the floor, his expression unreadable. "You think that scares me?"

I took another step forward, my patience thinning.

"I don't give a fuck if it scares you," I growled. "Where is Sofia?"

Something dark flickered across his face-just for a second, gone before I could fully read it. Then he smirked again, tilting his head.

Diego let out a slow, amused breath, shaking his head like he pitied me. "You know," he mused, "for all your talk, Theo… you and Thomas? You're not so different."

My grip tightened on the gun. "Don't."

But Diego just chuckled, taking another drag from his cigarette. "No, no. Think about it. The obsession. The control. The way you kill without hesitation." He exhaled smoke through his nose, his gaze steady. "Thomas just does it better."

My trigger finger twitched.

"He's smarter," Diego continued. "More calculated. Less emotional. He sees ten moves ahead while you-" he gestured toward the bodies scattered around us-"you're just playing catch-up. And Sofia?" His smirk widened. "She was just another move on his board."

I stared at Diego, my grip on the gun steady, my pulse pounding in my ears.

"Keep talking," I warned, voice low, dangerous.

Diego just smirked. "You don't like hearing the truth, do you?" He flicked the cigarette away, the ember dying as it hit the concrete. "Thomas is better suited to run the Rodríguez empire than you ever were. He's ruthless, strategic, and most importantly-" Diego leaned in slightly, voice dropping-"he doesn't let emotions make him weak."

My jaw clenched.

"Tell me where she is."

Diego laughed again. "You think putting a gun to my head is going to make me talk?" He tilted his head, completely unbothered by the threat. "Go ahead. Pull the trigger. But if you do-" he smiled, slow and taunting-"you'll never see your precious fiancée again."

My finger hovered over the trigger.

Diego stared me down, unwavering, his smirk never faltering. He wasn't bluffing. He knew something.

I ground my teeth, forcing myself to keep control. "You're stalling."

Diego clicked his tongue. "Maybe. Or maybe I just enjoy watching you squirm." His eyes gleamed with amusement. "It's funny, you acting like Sofia's yours when, really, she's always been Thomas's."

My breath stilled.

Diego's smirk widened. "Oh, you didn't know?" He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "They have history, Theo. Real history. They were high school sweethearts."

"Liar," I snapped.

Diego raised a brow. "Oh? You don't believe me?" He exhaled dramatically. "Then let me spell it out for you. Thomas and Sofia weren't just a fling. They were in love. That kind of love that makes people stupid. That makes them blind." He laughed under his breath. "She was his first everything. His first kiss. His first love. His first heartbreak."

My grip on the gun faltered for a split second.

Diego noticed.

His smirk turned razor-sharp. "You think Sofia is just some pawn to him?" He tsked. "No, no, no. She's the one that got away. And now? He's making sure she never slips through his fingers again."

My chest tightened, but I forced my face to remain unreadable. "If she meant so much to him, why did he let her go?"

Diego leaned back against the crates, as if he was getting comfortable. "Because he had to. Because he was weak back then. But now?" His eyes gleamed. "He's not weak anymore. And neither is she."

I refused to let his words shake me.

"Where is she?" I demanded again.

Diego just grinned. "You're asking the wrong question, Theo."

I took a slow breath, my patience razor-thin. "Then what's the right question?"

Diego tilted his head, his smirk turning cruel.

"The right question is-" he paused, savoring the moment-"did Sofia ever really stop loving him?"