"You can't go to Pier 17."
Elena was blocking the door of the storage unit, her arms crossed. In the harsh fluorescent light, she looked exactly like Dante's father when he was about to put his foot down. Same stubborn jaw. Same iron will.
"Move," Dante said. His voice was rough. Raw from the video call he'd just watched. From seeing Sienna tied to that chair with Lorenzo's hands on her.
"No." Elena didn't budge. "Walking into Lorenzo's trap isn't brave. It's suicide. And suicide doesn't save anyone."
"Then what do you suggest? We sit here and wait while he does God knows what to her?" Dante's hands clenched into fists. "Every second we waste, she's in that warehouse with him."
"I know." Elena's voice softened slightly. "But your father didn't raise a fool, Dante. And I didn't spend f
