(Ronald's POV)
I sat at one of the tables in the club. My eyes stayed on one of the bartenders but my mind was somewhere else. My men had searched my territory and there was still no sign of that doctor.
"Someone helped her," Oliver growled.
I didn’t respond.
My men were growing weaker due to the poor condition in the infirmary. I needed to get her back. I downed the rest of my drink and stood up, heading to my office.
I sat on the chair. I'd asked Cassius to go through every documented rogue we'd taken in the last eight years and Jordyn's name wasn't on it.
Someone in my pack thinks they can outsmart me.
I leaned forward, eyes locked on the paper on my desk. Tyra's document. My finger traced along her picture, a smile spread across my lips.
She was young.
Alone.
Desperate.
