The phone’s dead silence felt louder than gunshot. My fingers trembled against the receiver as I whispered, “Sophia…? Sophia!” But only static answered me.
Lucky took the phone gently from my hand and set it down. His jaw was hard, his eyes darker than I’d ever seen them. “They’re already moving. Enzo, Raphael—they’re planning again.”
My chest tightened, panic rising up my throat. “Sophia—what if they have her again?”
Lucky leaned closer, steadying me with both hands on my shoulders. His touch burned with urgency, but also with something more tender. “Listen to me, Abby. Panic is exactly what they want. We don’t move blind. We move smart. And we move together.”
His words steadied me like iron nails to wood. But my heart thudded louder, his nearness made me want something more dangerous
