Chapter 74

Chapter 74
Carlo

“Pick the fucking call, Blaze…” I mumble, pressing my phone to my ear again. It rings out. Again.

And again.

And again.

Nothing.

I sit there in the car, parked by the curb like a fucking idiot, with my hand tightening around the steering wheel so hard my knuckles start to pop. My jaw is locked. My chest? Pounding. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I know something’s not right.

It’s 7pm. I was supposed to pick him after practice hours ago. And he texted earlier—“I’m racing with Alexi and the boys.”

But I just spoke to Alexi.

And guess what she said?

“He never showed up.”

What the fuck?

I slam my hand against the wheel. “Fuck!”

I don’t even know where to start. My mind is not just spinning—it’s crashing into walls. I try his number again, because maybe it’s just me being paranoid. Maybe he lost his phone or was probably too busy to remember he asked me to pick him up. But even Blaze would’ve at least texted by now, even if it’s just to tell me to not come.

But nothing.

No call back. No fucking message.

I shove the gear and pull back onto the road, not even sure where I’m going first. I just start driving, eyes scanning everything like he’s gonna suddenly appear on the side of the damn street. It’s raining too, soft drizzle, just enough to fuck up visibility.

I try to breathe. Just breathe, Carlo. Be fucking rational.

I dial again.

Voicemail.

I drive straight to the track. It’s mostly empty now, lights still glowing faintly across the stadium. A few kids packing up, some guards sitting around the gate. I park so hard the car jerks.

I don’t walk—I storm out.

“Alexi!” I shout, spotting her by the side with her helmet off.

She turns and frowns. “I already told you. He didn’t show up today.”

“What do you mean he didn’t fucking show up? He said he was meeting you!”

“Well, I don’t know, okay?” she throws back, frustrated too. “I called him twice, no response. I thought maybe you guys had a fight and he bailed or something.”

My heart sinks deeper into my gut.

She looks at me, then something shifts in her face—concern. Real concern.

“Wait… you really don’t know where he is?”

I don’t answer. I just start walking again, pulling my phone out to call every hospital I can remember. I don’t even think—just act. Blaze rides rough sometimes. What if he had an accident?

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, pacing while Alexi is equally worried too…

“BLAZE!” I scream once into the void, like maybe that’ll fix something. It doesn’t.

Nothing from the hospitals. No entry. No report. No John Doe in ER. No unidentified patients.

I head back to the car, door slamming shut behind me.

I close my eyes.

Okay. Okay.

I go back to the mansion. Maybe he’s there. Maybe he’s hiding out, maybe he dropped his phone somewhere. Maybe—

The Mansion is locked. Dark. No signs he’s been there all day. I look around the house. Wait. No maids. Silence. We had planned to be together at my penthouse tonight, explains why no worker is here.

My chest starts caving in on itself. My own mind is starting to go against me, whispering worst-case scenarios like a fucking demon.

This can’t be happening.

I sit on the steps in front of his place for like ten minutes, my head in my hands. And then the fucking obvious slaps me.

My father.

He was pissed. He was fucking livid.

He slapped me. Called me a disgrace. Said I was ruining the family name. Said if I defy him, he’ll kill him.

I stand up.

I don’t even lock my car. I just drive to the estate. To that goddamn compound. I’ve had enough of this guessing game.

I march straight past the guards. The least I want right now is my father playing this dumb game with me. I’m already inside, slamming the door of his study open so hard the hinges cry.

He’s sitting behind his oversized desk like always, this man. A glass of scotch in one hand, phone in the other. Calm. Always so fucking calm.

“I’ll call you back,” he says into the phone and drops it like I’m just another nuisance.

“You had something to do with this,” I say through gritted teeth.

He doesn’t even blink. “Something to do with what, Carlo?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. Blaze is missing.”

“I see,” he says, standing slowly, adjusting his suit. He seems to have just finished an online interview. “And you’ve come here to what? Accuse your own father of kidnapping some cheap toy you play with between business meetings?”

“Father, don’t give that fucking piece of shit” I’m in front of him before I even know it, but he holds his ground. Always has.

His eyes narrow. Cold. “Watch your mouth.”

I clench my fists.

“You said it yourself,” I hiss. “If I defy you, you’d kill him.”

He doesn’t even deny it.

He steps closer and slaps me.

It lands hard and fast, no warning. My head jerks to the side, and for a second the ringing in my ear drowns out everything else.

“You dare accuse me of such little games?” he barks, voice booming through the room. “You think I’d waste resources kidnapping a street rat? If I wanted him dead, Carlo—” he steps closer, looks me straight in the eye, “—he’d already be dead.”

I breathe hard. My jaw tightens. My face stings. My ego burns.

He doesn’t look like he’s bluffing. But that’s the thing with men like him—they lie so clean, you can never tell.

“I’m warning you,” I say, voice lower now, calmer but still trembling, “if I find out you had anything to do with this—anything—I’ll burn this whole fucking empire down.”

He smirks.

“I’m not afraid of you, Carlo. You’re not a threat to me. You never have been.”

I don’t respond.

There’s no point talking to a wall.

I turn and walk out. I feel the heat rising in my chest, but I hold it down. If I let it take over, I’ll fucking explode.

I need to find Blaze.

I need to find him now.

And if I find out that bastard really touched him… if I find out he even thought about it…

I won’t be his son anymore.

I see William standing in a corner with a smug look on his face.
“Could be me,” he says with a grin.

I don’t bother to turn to him, the bastard of a son—”You don’t have the balls, William.” I scuff before leaving.