Chapter 105: Found her
Nico
Thirteen hours.
That was how long it had been since she disappeared, and now night had already fallen with still no sign of her.
I sat in my study, a glass of wine in hand, slowly nursing it as I watched Martin pace back and forth across the room. His steps were sharp, restless, the tension in his body obvious even without looking at his face.
But I did look.
His brows were drawn together, his jaw tight, and the expression he wore made it clear he wasn’t pleased with whatever he was hearing.
I couldn’t blame him.
We had managed to track the camera footage—just enough to identify the car Carmen got into. That part had been easy.
Too easy.
Because after that... nothing.
The car had vanished.
Not slowed down. Not rerouted. Not flagged.
It was as if it had disappeared into thin air.
And now there was the accident.
Martin had been chasing every possible lead tied to it, trying to get details on everyone involved—especially the unidentified young woman who had been reported injured.
My concern was simple.
If she wasn’t found tonight... if confirmation didn’t come before morning...
Then the chances of finding her alive would drop significantly.
Still, I waited.
I lifted the glass to my lips, taking another slow sip and letting the taste settle. Calm. Controlled.
On the surface.
Was I annoyed?
Yes.
More than I cared to admit.
There were already too many things going wrong, too many moving pieces refusing to fall into place—and her getting kidnapped was the last thing I needed.
Because if they had her...
Then they had access.
Every asset transferred into her name—everything moved from her father’s holdings—would become leverage.
And that was a problem.
"Maybe I should’ve just put everything under my name..." I muttered quietly, more to myself than anyone else.
But I already knew why I hadn’t.
Bianca.
She would never have believed it otherwise. I needed her convinced—needed her to believe that nothing had been passed on to me.
That illusion had cost time. Effort.
The original will alone had been a nightmare, and convincing Gordon to agree had nearly been worse.
Thinking about it now was enough to stir a dull headache behind my eyes.
One problem after another.
Relentless.
"Still... Mivite," I murmured, shaking my head slightly. "Who would have thought..."
I had underestimated it.
Whatever had killed Castilo—I hadn’t believed it to be serious.
Clearly, I had been wrong.
I drained the last of my glass just as Martin ended his call. He turned toward me, and the look on his face told me everything before he even spoke.
Still, I asked.
"No news?"
I reached for the half-empty bottle, refilling my glass before pouring one for him as well. He crossed the room and dropped into the seat beside me, exhaling quietly before lifting the drink to his lips.
"The injured woman hasn’t been confirmed yet," he said. "But I traced the hospital."
I glanced at him, waiting.
"The problem is... she’s still in surgery. No identification was found on her."
A pause.
Then—
"But I’m half confident it’s her."
I let out a quiet scoff, swirling the wine in my glass as I watched the liquid move.
"Half?" I echoed.
I took another sip before continuing.
"I’m fully confident it’s her."
Martin raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Jumping out of a moving car?" I added, my tone flat. "That sounds exactly like something she’d do."
A frown settled on my face as I leaned back slightly, the thought lingering longer than I expected.
If she was in surgery...
Then her injuries were worse than we assumed.
"She might not make it," Martin said, meeting my gaze directly.
I held his stare for a moment before shaking my head.
"She will," I replied calmly. "I don’t see how she doesn’t."
And yet—
A small, inconvenient thought surfaced.
If she didn’t...
I might actually miss her.
Not for anything sentimental.
But she had been... useful.
Consistent.
Difficult to replace.
The assets in her name would be another issue entirely. No next of kin. No immediate fallback.
Messy.
"Make the arrangements," I said, my tone shifting back to business. "I’ll be listed as her next of kin."
Martin nodded immediately.
"Of course. That would give you leverage—especially when they come for the northern territory."
I exhaled slowly, setting the glass down for a moment.
"That’s still the part that doesn’t make sense," I muttered. "Why take Kade?"
I glanced at him again.
"Bianca controls the other half. If this is about power, why not go after her directly?"
"Why not kill him? Why let Bianca find him?
Martin didn’t hesitate.
"Because Bianca is careful," he said. "Even when you wanted her gone... we couldn’t make it happen."
That much was true.
"Kade isn’t," he continued. "And based on her manpower, I’m confident she’s aligned herself with a cartel."
I frowned slightly.
"It’s not the Gallias cartel," I said. "If it were, I’d know."
Martin exhaled, his expression tightening.
"Then it’s Venom."
The name lingered in the air, heavy with implication.
He took another sip, his face tightening slightly as though the taste had turned bitter.
And maybe it had.
Venom always left that effect.
"For all her caution," I muttered, reaching for the bottle again, "she really does make reckless decisions."
I poured another glass, watching the liquid settle.
It was non-alcoholic—a deliberate choice. If it weren’t, I’d already be feeling the effects by now.
Something I couldn’t afford.
"Maybe she believes your father can—"
Martin cut himself off abruptly as his phone rang.
He answered immediately.
I watched closely.
The shift was instant.
His posture straightened, his eyes sharpening before lighting up with something close to confirmation. He pulled the phone away before the call even ended.
"It’s confirmed," he said, already rising to his feet. "It’s her."
I stood as well, finishing the contents of my glass in one go before setting it aside—resisting the urge to throw it across the room.
Because nothing was more irritating...
Than thinking you were moving forward—
Only to realize you hadn’t moved at all.
