Chapter Sixty-nine
Enzo
I couldn’t sleep.
No matter how many times I turned from one side of the bed to the other, sleep refused to come. Each breath I took reminded me of her—of Rain—and the haunting truth that I still didn’t know where she was. I didn’t know what she was doing, whether she was safe, or if she was out there hurting alone.
Every inch of this room reeked of her. Her scent. Her silence. Her absence. And with every hour that passed, my chest tightened under the weight of that uncertainty.
When I got back home, I sent my men out immediately. I didn’t waste a second. I told them to search everywhere—every alley, every safe house, every damn corner of the city. I gave the order to raid known enemy hideouts if necessary. My men understood the gravity of that kind of instruction; they knew I never spoke lightly when it came to Rain. And usually, they delivered—always.
But this time, for the first time in years, they came back empty-handed.
They didn’t fail because they weren’
