Page 85 of Isle of Seduction

The tracker app on my phone reveals her location. I never told her I put a tracker in her first wedding ring, the microchip hidden within the chiselled design of the band. I pray she keeps it on.

The red dot is at a standstill somewhere North of West Hill, in the middle of the woods.

“FUCK!”

I beat the steering wheel over and over again, but nothing helps with the violence coursing through my veins.

I call the airport closest to me and have a jet chartered for the next hour.

I need to get to my family.

Knowing I can trace her is only thing that prevents me from spiralling out of control but when I arrive at the airport and I see the red dot moving towards the East Coast while Nico’s blue dot from his medallion remains at Louis’s place, I grip the phone so hard my knuckles turn white.

Images of my brother’s body burnt to ash flashes in my mind, my beautiful wife taken captive by Addams or Misha or people like them, turning my blood to ice and slowing down time. This plane needs to take off right fucking now. I try to rush the staff, but there isn’t anything I can do but look as the red dot gets further and further away from the blue one on the screen.

I call the Security and Protection Department of my company, specialised in high profile surveillance. Most of the men in that team are ex-MI6 and military, trained for difficult missions and retrievals. They’re the same team we used when we rescued Lana from Misha’s hands back in September and I hold on to the hope that my wife isn’t with that monster right now, but I’m not sure of anything.

I hold on to the scenario where her ex is bringing her somewhere safe while Nico deals with the issue happening at Louis’s place. Maybe Addams showed up, following her, and found Nico instead of Giulia.

Hope is all I have right now.

She is my queen, my world, but my brother is my blood and right now, I’m only sure that she is alive and he might not. She’s valuable as merchandise, he’s a problem.

I take another deep breath in, picturing Giulia smiling at me to calm me down. It only works marginally.

By the time we land in West Hill, the protection team is in gear and ready to go. The drive to Louis’s property takes us thirty minutes of driving past the speed limit with a police siren on top of the van. Illegal as fuck, but it’s the least of the many illegal shit I’m about to do to get my brother and wife back to safety.

The van hasn’t stopped when I open the sliding door and jump out, running up the three stairs to the front porch and into the house. I stop dead in my tracks. It’s like entering my own cottage, but I don’t have time to feel the dread of realising the depth of Louis’s obsession.

My brother’s feet peek out from the corner of the corridor and I rush into the living area. A pool of blood spreads underneath his lifeless body, staining his dark clothes and his hair.

I fall into it, on my knees as I take in the bullet holes on my brother’s chest and stomach.

“No, no, no, no, no…” Over and over, I chant the word as if it will be the incantation that brings Nico back to life.

My hands tremble violently and my heart palpitates as I take his head and chest into my arms and clutch him to me. I start to rock back and forth, unaware of what my body does to help me come to terms with my brother’s death.

THIRTY-FOUR

TRACKING GIULIA

Self-loathing and vengefulness war inside my head as I tighten my brother’s body to me. There isn’t a sign of anyone but Louis in this house. My enemy isn’t someone I even considered as one. My nostrils flare and visions of his entrails strewn from his open body assault my mind.

I hate that I need to let go of the person I love most to save the other. My heart is torn apart in two directions, faced with the choice of mourning or moving to save my wife. If anything happens to her, there will be no more reason for me to live.

While thoughts of murder consume me and the voices from my team echo behind me as if from far away, I hear it.

A rasp.

The faint whizzing sound of a throat sandpapered.

I press my fingers to Nico’s pulse point at his neck.

At first, I think it’s my frayed mind playing tricks on me, but it’s there. Weak, but there.

A tremor courses through my body and if I wasn’t already on my knees, my legs would give underneath me. Tears well behind my eyelids, heart in my throat.

I send a prayer to a God I never worshipped, looking up at the ceiling as if it’d open the doors to reveal my brother’s guardian angel, then bring my lips to his forehead.