Issues

39

Despite Amora not sending me her location through her phone I was able to do so.

I arrive at Amora's last location and pick up her phone from the ground.

I'm mad.

Fucking pissed.

Those mother fuckers.

"Fuck." I mutter.

"It's fine. We will be fine. Just pull up the tracker." Domenico tells me to do.

"What fucking tracker. Her phone is here!" I snap at him.

"You've given her a whole bunch of jewelry. I told you to get a tracker in at least one of them!" Domenico replies back.

"I didn't," I mumble.

I'm mad at myself.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I curse myself out.

Amora.

I just put Amora in fucking danger.

Amora's phone dinged with a text and I take a look.

It's her mom.

Saying their flight is delayed a day.

Shit. Are they coming back?

Fuck.

"We have to fucking find her before I lose my shit," I mutter walking off towards my car.

•

"I want you to find all of their warehouses here. I don't give a shit on how fucking hard it will be. I want it done." I demand.

The Americans haven't called yet.

This is making me believe that maybe it wasn't them. But then if it wasn't them who would it be?

I scoff, speaking of the devils.

I answer their call. I grab my laptop and hook it up to my phone.

"Lorenzo Romano." He says on the line.

"William Huxley," I reply.

"I guess you've noticed that we have Amora Dior." He says rolling her name off his tongue.

I hate that.

I put my hand in a fist, trying to keep my calm. He has Amora. I keep reminding myself. "What do you want?" I ask him.

"It's obvious." He replies. "You know, she's such a pretty girl. Too bad she has a big mouth." William mutters.

"Don't you even dare." I warn him.

"And she's 18. A lucky day for us" he says.

"Don't you fucking dare William." I warn him again. By the time we will be done with this conversation, I'll track his location.

William laughs on the line, "She screams too much." He goes on.

"Lorenzo!" I hear Amora yell faintly.

My fist goes even more tighter. "Don't you fuc-"

"yeah yeah, I got it. 'Don't you fucking dare' same lines." He scoffs.

"What do you want, William?" I ask him.

"Her." He demands.

"I think the fuck not." I mutter.

"Then you already know. The shit I've been after for years. Make the paperwork. I'll figure it out that you're done, and I'll make the call" he says, hanging up.