Chapter 226 If she dies

Chapter 226 If she dies
♤ Cain ♤

Mary’s heels clicked behind me as I strode down the hallway.

“Where are you going, Cain?” she called.

I didn’t slow.

“If you leave now, we’re not going to fuck,” she added, half-laughing, half-whining. “José will be all over me. This is our only chance tonight—”

Her voice faded into noise.

Because all I could hear was Xavi’s voice from seconds ago.

Panicked. Shaken.

I don’t know where she is, Don. Viktor said he was watching her, then he went to get a glass of wine and—

He hadn’t even finished before I hung up.

What the fuck?

My chest tightened as I pushed through the crowd.

She was supposed to be with José, dancing and safe under stupid Viktor's eyes.

While Xavi and the boys wrapped up Dimitri and dragged that bastard away in a sack.

The plan had worked.

Everything had worked.

That was why I’d allowed myself to get distracted. Why I’d followed Mary. Why I’d decided to be petty and piss José off for fun.

Stupid.

Fucking stupid.

Now she is missing.

I swear if José had something to do with this, I—

“Cain, stop ignoring me and—” Mary grabbed my wrist.

“Shut up.” I ripped my hand free. “Just go away.”

She froze.

I didn’t look back.

My jaw clenched so hard it hurt as I scanned the dance floor.

Masks. Lights. Bodies moving.

Then I saw José drinking.

I crossed the distance in three steps and grabbed his collar, slamming him back against a pillar.

“Where the fuck is she?” I snarled.

My veins burned. My hands shook.

José’s eyes widened for half a second before he shoved me back.

“What are you talking about?” he snapped. “She went to the restroom.”

Restroom.

My stomach dropped.

“When?” I demanded.

“Earlier. She said she needed to go,” he said sharply. “Why? What’s wrong?”

I ignored him.

I turned slightly and caught Xavi’s eye across the room.

He nodded once and disappeared immediately.

Check the restrooms.

Check everywhere.

“And where the fuck did you take my fiancée?” José barked, dragging Mary closer. “You were supposed to be dancing.”

“Ouch, José, let go,” Mary complained, looking at me helplessly.

I didn’t even see her.

She didn’t exist anymore in my moment of confusion.

“Let’s go,” I growled to my men.

They moved instantly.

They spread out, searching hallways, private rooms, balconies, lounges, stairs. Every corner of Grant’s Hall.

But found nothing.

Minutes passed.

Each one felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

“She’s not in the west wing.”

“Checked the VIP rooms. Nothing.”

“..."

“Bathrooms are empty.”

Empty.

Every word made my heart sink deeper.

Where the fuck was she?

I ran a hand through my hair, breathing hard.

This wasn’t happening.

It couldn’t be.

“Fuck…” I muttered under my breath.

My eyes scanned the hall again, wild now.

My men's face blurred.

Music muffled.

“Don.”

Xavi’s voice cut through everything.

It wasn’t loud. It was worse. Low, and tight. He was afraid.

My heart stopped. No.

I turned slowly.

“What?” I managed, one word, barely a breath.

Praying to every god I didn’t believe in that he wasn’t about to confirm my worst fear.

Xavi’s lips trembled.

He didn’t even speak at first.

He just lifted his hand and pointed toward the stairs, going to the rooftop.

My brain refused to process it.

My body didn’t, but my legs started moving before I could think.

I barely registered the way my men had gathered there—hovering, silent, tense—like fucking vultures waiting for something to die.

“Get out,” I barked.

My voice was hoarse.

They scattered instantly.

And then I saw her. I saw Leila on the floor, and still. So fucking still, like a dead zombie.

Blood matted her hair.

It pooled beneath her head, and between her legs.

No. No. No. No. Please no.

My mind screamed it over and over, like if I said it enough times, it would undo what I was seeing.

I’d seen death every day.

Gunshots, stabbings, poison. I have seen bodies dumped in rivers.

Men begging and bleeding.

None of it had ever touched me like this.

Nothing, not even Tobias's death.

My knees gave out.

I hit the floor beside her, my legs numb enough not to feel it.

Hands grabbed my arms, trying to pull me back.

I shoved them away.

“Don—” someone started.

“Don’t touch me,” I growled.

My hands were shaking as I cradled her face.

Her skin was cold and pale.

“Leila…” I whispered.

I pressed my fingers to her neck, searching, and begging for a sign, but nothing, no pulse.

Fuck.

Fuck.

FUCK.

My heart started pounding so loud it filled my ears.

I couldn’t breathe or think. I couldn’t see anything except her bloody frame.

Broken.

Bleeding.

Because of me.

“Don,” Xavi said urgently. “We need to take her to a doctor. Now. There’s still a chance. She could still be alive.”

His words barely reached me.

I felt hollow.

Like something had been ripped out of my chest.

On any other day, I’d already be scanning the scene.

Checking angles for footprints, blood trails, cameras.

Any suspects.

I was always five steps ahead.

But not tonight. Tonight, I was weak, and useless.

Just a man on his knees, holding the woman he was supposed to protect.

Xavi tried to take her from me.

I tightened my grip.

“No,” I muttered.

“You have to let me,” he insisted. “We’ll lose her if we wait.”

That broke through barely.

I forced myself to stand.

My legs felt like they weren’t mine.

I looked at him.

My voice came out low.

“Search everywhere. Rooftop. Hallways. Exits. Parking. If you see anyone suspicious, I want their name, their face, their blood type.”

Xavi nodded instantly and barked orders.

Men scattered.

I bent down again and lifted her carefully.

“Stay with me,” I whispered into her hair. “Please. Don’t do this. Don’t leave Zombie.”

I carried her back inside.

The moment I stepped onto the dance floor, everything stopped.

The music died, laughter vanished, and gasps filled the air.

The guest stared.

Masks couldn’t hide their fear.

"What the hell –" José said, stiffening.

I handed her to Viktor.

“Hospital. Now,” I said.

He nodded and ran.

My hands were stained red. My shirt was soaked.

My vision blurred.

I lifted my head slowly and looked around, at every single person in that room.

My eyes burned. My jaw clenched.

“If she dies,” I said, “I will burn Manhattan to the ground.”

Silence.

“I don’t care who did it. I don’t care why. I will find them. And I will erase everything they love.”

No one spoke or breathed.

I turned away and walked out slowly like a man walking to his own execution.