Adrian did not answer immediately.

He pressed a button on the steering wheel, activating the car’s secure communication system.

“Thomas,” Adrian said into the air.

“Yes, Mr. Romano,” his security chief’s voice responded instantly.

“Marcus Vance has Clara Parker,” Adrian said. “He is holding her at her apartment, or has already moved her.”

“We are monitoring the grid now, sir,” Thomas said.

“Trace the FaceTime call that just ended on Emily’s line,” Adrian ordered. “Get the routing nodes.”

“On it,” Thomas replied.

Adrian turned the SUV down a narrow alleyway, bypassing the heavy traffic of the main avenue.

He pulled into an underground parking garage beneath a non-descript brick building.

The heavy steel gate rolled down behind us, locking out the rain and the noise of the city.

Adrian turned off the engine.

The sudden silence in the car was deafening.

He turned in his seat to face me, his dark eyes steady and focused.

“Emily,” he said, taking my trembling hands in his.

His palms were warm and dry.

“Look at me,” he commanded gently.

I raised my eyes to meet his.