I looked at Luca. “What the fuck?”
“You had one fucking job, Marcello. So why the fuck were you sleeping?”
I blinked a few times and sat up in the chair, leaning my elbow on the arm for support. Retracing the events that occurred before I’d passed out, I had a good idea about what might have happened.
“I think Alex drugged me.”
I hated admitting that aloud to Luca, of all people.
“The Albanians got her,” Luca snapped, his face contorted with anger. “You never should have let her out of your sight.”
“What?” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “No, that’s not possible. We doubled our guards. She must be somewhere in the house.”
Luca sighed. “I showed Alex the secret passage in the library in case of an emergency.”
How could he be so stupid?
Because he loves her.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, Luca. Alex asked me to get her some tea. She must have slipped something into my scotch when I was out of the room. I didn’t think she would run away.”
“How was she acting before you left the room to fix her tea?”
“Fine.” I rolled my shoulders. “Happy, I guess. She was working on a new sketch.”
“She snuck out of the house to find Aiden. He saw them take her.”
I pushed myself up on shaky legs. “How did she know where to find him?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Did you pull up the security feeds at Aiden’s house?”
“Yes,” Bastian cut in. “Two men threw her into a black Mercedes van. Drake is working on finding them.”
I removed the phone from my pocket. “Did Aiden get a good look at them?”
“He saw nothing that helps us.”
I scrolled through my phone to find the app. “What about her necklace?”
Luca had given Alex one of our mother’s necklaces. It had a tracking device inside the gemstone because my father was just as protective of our mom. Unfortunately, no necklace or amount of security kept her alive. Because of Alex’s crazy mother, who killed my mom in a fit a jealousy, she was no longer with us.
I flipped through a few screens, then found the correct information. “The tracker says she’s in London.” I held out my phone for Luca to see her movements. “They couldn’t have gotten that far in an hour.”
“Somehow, they’re messing with the signal.” Luca glanced at Bastian and Damian. “Roundup The Devil’s Knights who live in Connecticut, New Jersey, and New York. Tell them it’s an emergency. We need all the help we can get with these bastards.”
My adoptive brothers did as their leader commanded. They left Alex’s bedroom with their phones raised to their ears. Within the hour, we would have every Knight on the East Coast ready to fight the war with the Albanians.
As my fingers slid across the keypad, I got a new text message from Drake Battle. I fired back a few messages in rapid succession, then shoved the phone into my pocket.
I glanced at Luca. “Let’s go. I think Drake has a lead.”
“One more thing,” my brother said with a cruel smirk. “They kidnapped your Irish whore and added her to the Il Circo auction.”
And with those words, my blood ran cold.
Chapter Nineteen
Rhiannon
I stood outside my father’s office with my back against the wall. He’d called his highest-ranking men into his office an hour ago, and they had been arguing since. My father’s voice boomed throughout the house. Even through the thick wooden door, I could hear his words.
“Get her off the Il Circo website,” he demanded.
What the hell is Il Circo?
I rushed down the hallway, trying not to make a sound. I took the stairwell to the second floor and ran toward my bedroom. He would get mad if he knew I’d overheard his conversation.
When I stepped into my bedroom, I pressed my hands to my thighs and leaned forward to catch my breath. My heart thumped so loudly I could hear ringing in my ears. Ever since I returned to Beacon Bay, I had this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. A feeling I couldn’t shake. Sean Donnelly would be here within the week to collect me, force me to become his bride.
My father was more on edge than usual and around even less, which was fine with me. But I feared his irritation had to do with me.
I locked my bedroom door and sat on the edge of the bed. Phone in hand, my fingers swept across the keypad at a rapid pace. I entered Il Circo into the Google search bar, confused when it returned a result in Italian. The Circus, that was the meaning of Il Circo.
My father sold guns and drugs. Why was he talking to his men about a circus website? None of this made any sense.
I dropped my phone onto the bed and laid on the mattress. Marcello hadn’t responded to any of my text messages. I stared at the screen for what felt like hours before my eyelids grew heavy and my lack of sleep won out.