Dante’s pov
The drive back from my uncle’s house on the other side of the estate drags.
I sit in the back with Ricardo, jaw tight. Someone tried to kill Lena. They’re still breathing. That’s a problem I intend to fix.
“Double the men on the search,” I tell him. “I want names by morning. Someone touched what’s mine and is still breathing that’s a slap to my face.”
“I’m doing my best, boss,” Ricardo says.
“Then do better.”
The car stops. I’m out before he can answer.
Maria’s waiting inside.
“How was she today?”
She wrings her hands. “Not good. Her mother came. They argued. She hasn’t left the room since.”
Something sharp twists in my chest. “Did she eat?”
“Not after the argument.”
I nod and head upstairs.
Lena’s curled up on our bed, drowning in the blanket. She looks small
