“I’d feel the same way if I were in your shoes,” Milburne said a moment later, massaging his throat. “The video is evidence, Agent Hunt. You know that.”
Hunt had to give the detective credit for keeping his cool. Still, Hunt’s gaze narrowed on the detective, willing him to agree to show him the video.
“But since you’re a colleague, and my boss is a fan of yours, I’ll make a couple of phone calls and see what I can do about that footage.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Coral Gables, Florida
Anna Garcia had deep worry lines carved in her face. The kidnapping of her niece and the murder of her father had been part of a series of violent events across the city. Her brother, Tony, and his men were shaking down their contacts, hoping to find clues as to who was responsible. Anna’s associates within the police force had told her there was a video of Sophia and her friend’s abduction. Anna had offered $10,000 to the first cop to bring that tape to her or her brother.
The living room of Tony’s eight-thousand-square-foot classic Spanish two-story home had been transformed into an operation center. A bay of computers and sophisticated phone-tapping equipment were set up on a folding table, and a large corkboard was filled with neatly organized photos and other pieces of intelligence Tony’s men were calling in.
So far, with the exception of the dashcam video, there had been no solid leads. It was driving Anna nuts. Their failure to find Sophia was digging into her heart and soul, leaving her feeling helpless and vulnerable.
Vulnerable. Not a sensation she enjoyed. Her family’s betrayal by Terrance Davis—a.k.a. Pierce Hunt—had transformed her. She had fallen in love with the man. Hard. She had given him everything and introduced him to her family. When she’d realized she had fallen for a lie, she’d started questioning her own self-worth. Hunt’s treachery had stolen her pride and her heart, had put her father in jail, and had now gotten him killed. There was no man on earth she hated more than Pierce Hunt.
But that’s not true anymore, is it? Whoever had kidnapped Sophia and Leila had taken the prize. It wasn’t a stretch to link the attack on her father’s motorcade to the girls’ kidnapping—all of it a ripple effect from Hunt’s betrayal.
After her father’s arrest, she had tried to track Hunt down, but like a ghost he had disappeared, helped by the all-powerful DEA. She had never seen or heard from him again.
Until Chicago.
At first she hadn’t been able to believe it. Was it really him? Then the media had reported his name.
Pierce Hunt.
Dios mío.
Hunt had almost killed a reporter, they’d said. Pointed a gun right at his head. That had surprised her. Hunt was an impulsive man, yes, but very protective of the ones he loved. He could be a meticulous son of a bitch too. How else could he have played her for two years? The man was like a chameleon, and for him to lose his cool, the reporter must have done something stupid.
Hunt used to be protective of her once, which was why his treason wounded her so much. After her father’s trial, she had begged her brother to send a hit team after him, but he had refused, saying it was too dangerous, that it would start another war with the DEA. They had enough on their hands as it was. She understood why her brother had been reluctant, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t pursue him on her own, like a ferocious tigress.
She would get her revenge. One way or the other, Pierce Hunt would pay for his sins. But first things first. They needed to find Sophia and her friend.
Then it would be Hunt’s turn.
When Tony came home an hour later, he was pissed. Anna had seen him in a bad mood before, and it was always best to keep a distance when he was like that. Tony was a loving father, but he was a different man when it came to the family business. He was prone to using violence when things didn’t go his way. There was a reason his men feared him. Anna wasn’t scared of her brother, but with Sophia’s kidnapping, all bets were off.
Tony’s eyes were just visible beneath the brim of his Miami Dolphins cap as he entered the living room. His lips were pressed together so tightly that Anna could barely see them, and the seething anger in his eyes sent shivers down her spine.
Anna’s heart rate soared, and she felt weak at the knees.
Oh no. Please God. Not Sophia. I’ll give my life for hers.
“What’s wrong?” she asked shakily, fearing the worst. “Is Sophia—”
“It’s the Black Tosca,” he spat. “That double-crossing, backstabbing cockroach.”
The Black Tosca? Valentina Mieles?
“Why would—” she started to ask, but her brother cut her off with a wave of his hand.
“There are things you don’t know, Anna,” he said curtly.
She wasn’t about to let her brother walk all over her, so she held his glare. Sophia was her blood too. “Then tell me.”
He looked at her, his face a mask of rage.