“Sofia.”
“I told you no effort.”
He gave you an incredulous look.
“Now?”
You scrambled up.
He grabbed your wrist, then immediately loosened his grip as if remembering you hated being held.
“This way.”
You followed him through a hallway that suddenly felt like a war zone. Elias appeared at the corner, firing toward the staircase. Men shouted downstairs. The house alarm screamed. Somewhere, a woman’s voice spoke calmly over hidden speakers, announcing a security breach as if that made it less terrifying.
Mateo shoved you into a narrow service corridor behind a bookshelf.
You would have laughed at the absurdity if you had not been too busy trying not to die.
“Of course you have a secret hallway,” you muttered.
He glanced back.
“Would you prefer no secret hallway?”
“Keep moving.”
You descended a metal staircase into a garage beneath the house.
A black sedan waited with the engine running.
Elias appeared behind you, breathing hard.
“They breached the east side,” he said.
“Julian?” Mateo asked.
“Not seen.”
Mateo looked at you.
His face was pale now.
Too pale.
Your nurse brain took over despite everything.
“You’re bleeding too much.”
“I’ll live.”
“That’s not medical advice. That’s male arrogance.”
Elias opened the car door.
Before you could get in, your phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone froze.
Mateo held out his hand.
“Give it to me.”
You stepped back.
“It might be my grandmother’s facility.”
“Sofia—”
You answered.
A child’s voice whispered, “Please don’t hang up.”
Your blood turned to ice.
“Who is this?”
“My name is Elena.”
Mateo went still.
His eyes locked on yours.
You put the call on speaker.
“Elena,” you said carefully, “where are you?”
“I don’t know. It smells like dust. Uncle Julian said if Uncle Mateo doesn’t bring the thing, he’ll hurt my mom.”
Mateo’s face became something terrifying.
Controlled devastation.
You forced your voice soft.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Can you see anything?”
“A window. It’s high. There’s a red sign outside. I can only see some letters.”
“What letters?”
She sniffed.
“R-O-S-E.”
Elias looked at Mateo.
“Rose Yard Storage,” he said.
Mateo grabbed the phone.
“Elena, listen to me. It’s Uncle Mateo.”
The little girl sobbed once.
“I’m sorry. He said not to call, but the lady on the phone said if I pressed the green button—”
“You did perfect,” Mateo said, his voice gentler than you thought possible. “Stay quiet. Stay hidden if you can. I’m coming.”
The line went dead.
Mateo looked at Elias.
“We go now.”
Elias shook his head.
“It’s a trap.”
“Obviously.”
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