CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
ZADE
I'm already halfway down the street, tearing through the gridlock.
I know exactly where she works. Sometimes, I just park in the shadows and watch
her—watching her walk around the lower sector in clothes that practically scream she's a nobody.
It infuriates me.
It drives me insane how someone so fragile can be so stubborn.
Right now, the fresh blood leaking from my mangled hand is actively ruining the leather steering wheel of my Porsche, smeared in dark, sticky streaks across the grip.
I don't care.
I barely even feel the sting of the glass cuts.
Suddenly, the sharp buzz of my phone cuts through the roar of the engine.
I glance down. It's Mio.
Why is she calling me? Today, she was perfectly content keeping her distance and being frustrated with my existence.
I snap the phone up and press it to my ear.
Before I can even utter a single syllable, her voice pierces through the line.
The panic in her tone instantly turns the blood in my veins to solid ice.
"Zade! Alice and Ellie have been kidnapped!" she screams, her voice cracking under the weight of hysterical sobs.
"Alice called me just now from her phone... she told me to get the police to track her location!
There were noises, Zade... horrible, dangerous sounds... and then she just stopped speaking! Please, Zade... do something... please!"
A blinding, suffocating wave of crimson fills my vision.
My wildfire has been taken.
It seems this pathetic city is practically begging to be set on fire.
"Listen to me very carefully, Mio," I say, my voice dropping into a low, lethal register that cuts straight through her hysterics.
"I am going to get them back. I promise you. But I need you to tell me exactly where you last saw them."
I slam my foot down on the accelerator.
The Porsche engine roars to life, a beast unleashed on the dark asphalt.
I'll be damned if I don't tear this city apart to reach them.
"I was the one who drove Ellie to meet Alice, Zade..." Mio sobs, the guilt suffocating her words.
"Ellie begged me to come along. They just wanted to apologize for hiding the pregnancy from me... but I was angry. I left them there alone. Zade, it's all my fault... it's all my fault..."
"It is not your fault, Mio," I snap, refusing to let her spiral.
Hearing her cry like this ignites a familiar, burning fury in my chest—it's the exact same protective rage I felt years ago when the bastards at school dared to bully her.
"Just tell me where you left them."
"Near... near the MOTH library, Zade. Please, just bring them back..."
"I will bring them back safely. Trust me, Mio," I command.
I cut the line, immediately dialing the one man I swore I'd never ask for a favor.
The man I am forced to call my father.
He picks up after a few agonizing rings, his voice smooth, powerful, and dripping with unbothered arrogance.
"Color me surprised, son. I didn't think I'd receive a call from you. Not since your mother tried to arrange a meeting and you completely ignored us."
He has always been the most critical, suffocating presence in my life.
But he also owns nearly every enterprise in this region—both in the legitimate world and the brutal criminal underworld that runs beneath it.
He has the resources I need right now.
"Cut the bullshit, Dad," I growl, gripping the blood-slicked steering wheel tightly.
"I need your team to track a live phone signal. It's critical, and I need the coordinates right fucking now. Tell Julian to handle it. He can bypass the system in seconds."
"Watch your tone—"
I hang up on him before he can finish. I don't have time for his lectures.
But I know my father; the urgency in my voice means sleep has officially left his eyes. He will get it done.
Next, I speed-dial Nate. He answers almost instantly.
"You really have terrible timing, mate," Nate says, his voice relaxed, backed by the ambient sounds of a kitchen.
"I'm in the middle of preparing some Indian food for Ellie. She's had a massive craving for it lately..."
"She's been kidnapped," I interrupt flatly.
The casual warmth in Nate's voice vanishes instantly.
Across the line, a violent, shattering crash echoes through the speaker as whatever culinary tools he was holding smash heavily onto the floor.
"What the fuck are you talking about, Zade?" Nate growls, his voice dropping into a dark, feral register.
"If this is some twisted joke, it's going to cost you everything."
"I am not fucking joking, Nate," I hiss, veering the Porsche violently around a sharp corner.
"Alice and Ellie were taken together. Alice managed to call Mio to warn her, telling her to track the phone before the line went dead."
"But she told me she was with Mio... at her mother's apartment," Nate says, his voice trembling slightly before hardening into the most dangerous, lethal tone I have ever heard from him.
"Mio drove Ellie to see Alice and left them near the MOTH library. I'm heading there right now. Be there in five minutes, Nate."
I slam the phone down on the console.
A second later, a notification pings in my inbox. It's an encrypted file from my father with a brief text attached:Once you are done with this, you better tell me every single fucking thing, Zade.
Typical. One of my father's worst traits is his inability to stay out of my business, but right now, his efficiency is the only thing saving a dead man's life.
I glance down at the tracked coordinates on the screen.
The Long Liner Club.
My brows furrow in a harsh glare.
The Long Liner Club is an exclusive, underground establishment reserved strictly for high society's darkest vices.
Someone with deep pockets and an elite status pulled this trigger.
My phone buzzes again. Nate.
"I'm at the MOTH library," he barks out the moment I answer.
"Where the fuck are you?"
I slam on the brakes, the tires screeching violently against the pavement as I pull up to the curb. Just ahead, I can see the harsh gleam of his car.
"I'm right behind you," I say, shifting the car into park.
"I'm sending you the coordinates now. Get into my car. We're not wasting time taking two vehicles."
I end the call.
A few seconds later, the passenger door violently rips open, and Nate climbs inside, slamming the heavy door shut behind him.
His jaw is clenched so tightly the bones look ready to snap.
"I am going to slaughter the fuckers," he hisses, his knuckles white as he stares out the windshield.
"If they laid a single finger on her, I'll take them apart piece by piece."
My temples throb with a vicious, rhythmic pulse.
The blood on my steering wheel feels hot under my palm.
Whoever the motherfucker is behind that door, he is about to find out exactly why you never, ever touch what belongs to the King.