✰ ✰

"𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧"

Landon paced back and forth, black locks rugged from the ruthless tugs he made to it. Layla sat in the chair, her eyes red and cheeks blotchy from the crying.

"There are two fucking teams working on her location, how fucking hard is it!?" He cursed into the phone, endless anger pouring through his veins.

The man on the other line shook with fear, rushing his colleagues to find the missing girl.

Groaning, Landon hung up—mentally over the bullshit they were spewing at him. His daughter was missing, and he wasn't wasting any time.

"Anything?" Layla asked, looking up at Landon with hopeful eyes. Emotionlessly, he stared down at her and shook his head. Lifting a single arm, she immediately wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Fuck, I'm scared Landon," She cried into his chest, his hand rubbing up and down her back soothingly. "I know, love."

He brought his hand to her cheek, cupping it as he brushed the tears away with a single thumb. "We'll find her," pressing his lips to her cheek, "I'll make sure of it."

Embracing each other, Nicolo on the other hand wasn't taking the kidnapping as well as the others—well whatever 'well' meant to the endless stress and anxiety everyone consumed.

His unprotected fists punched mercilessly to the black punching bag. Eyes tired and dead, expression emotionless like his fathers. Nicolo has only ever been like this once. It was when Arabella broke her arm when they were eight, falling off the trampoline.

Nicolo couldn't see her for three days, and he was devastated. At one point he thought the girl died, though his mother confirmed many times that she had only fractured her arm.

Knowing his twin was in danger or in any sort of harm immediately brought him ill. Mentally and physically, ill.

Sweat dripped from his body, clinging onto his skin like hot droplets of water. His arms flexed with every hit, his fists bruising—though never faltering.

He felt hopeless. There wasn't a single thing he could do, he didn't know who to find, where to find it or where to find her. It was a waiting game, a long and dreadful waiting game.

Memories after memories of him and his sister flooded through his mind, each hit getting rougher and more furious with every thought.

The silver ring on his finger caught his attention, his body froze and his fists stopped midair. Flexing open his hand, he examined the glimmering silver ring—the matching one to his sisters.

Rage, once again filled his veins. This time, his fist reached back and then slammed forward, hitting the bag at a certain force that it got knocked down to the floor—now rolling away on the matted floorboards.

"Fuck," He muttered and pulled at his hair, harshly.

"Nicolo." Landon called from the threshold, looking at his torn son. Nicolo snapped his head towards him, eyes glossy yet frustrated.

"Warehouse," Landon nodded out the door, motioning for him to follow. Nicolo nodded, grabbing his phone from the table and following his father out.

"Let me change and I'll meet you at the front," Nicolo said, all emotion restrained from his tone. Landon nodded, watching his son depart up the stairs.

He was concerned for him. Nicolo had gotten a part of Layla's personality. Her bright big smile, warm hugs, and cheery persona.

It was hard to see him like that, though it was hard for all of them. Layla hadn't slept, crying in the arms of the love of her life for the past three nights.

Landon hardly slept either way, though his mind was racing and his heart was pounding every passing second—thinking what could possibly be happening to his daughter.

Although, Landon has trained her—hard. He made sure to keep her as steady as possible and ready for anything. She was a smart girl, never had she disappointed him.

So whatever she was facing, he had hoped she was using what she had been trained to do.

Soon later, Nicolo had arrived back downstairs. Hair damp from the cold shower and his appearance was still all the more—rugged.

Tiredly, he slipped on his shoes and strode towards the front door—ignoring everything and everyone around him.

"Nico!" A soft voice called from behind him. Sighing, he let go of the doorknob and turned around—facing his mother.

Without warning, Layla hugged her only son—tightly. "Please be safe, Nico." she whispered into his chest, and he could only sigh.

"I will mum," He replied, pressing a kiss to her head and rubbing her back.

Layla found it hard to let go. Knowing one of her children was missing already, she couldn't bear the thought of her son missing too.

"I love you, I have to go now okay?" Nicolo reassured her, certain sadness overwhelming him as he thought of his mother worrying about him too.

She sniffled, pulling away and nodding her head. Nicolo gave her a small smile, one that didn't reach his eyes.

Layla did the same, smiling—yet not sure if she faked it. Nicolo turned around, walking out of the house and towards his car.

His father, following.

✰

Andre stood at the head of the table. Composed, more than a whole lot of people in the room.

His best friend stood behind him in the far corner, observing everyone with menacing eyes. Kara, Theo, Aydan, and Nicolo sat around the table, hearts heavy as they waited for the update.

"Roman's men and our men have managed to find current locations they've been transferring Arabella to. Possibly one of them is where she is now, all we can do is try."

Andre took a deep breath in, pulling out the files of places and areas she has been spotted in only hours ago. "We're going to go in groups,"

"Landon and I will be meeting a few people, suspects." Andre looked between the kids, watching their expressions harden.

"Nicolo, Kara, and Aydan will go to these locations." He handed them the three files. "Theo will be with Roman, who has already made plans where to look."

"The people who have taken Arabella have a high priority team. Her location is currently obscured greatly, though it isn't something we can't handle."

Andre moved around the table, jaw clenching as he ran a hand through his hair for the tenth time today.

"Half of our men and Roman's will be on the lookout as well, they will be coming with everyone on a mission as a backup."

"Who are the suspects?" Aydan asked, his hands clenched into fists. Andre looked over to Landon, who stared emotionlessly at them all—silently.

"Rodger and Haley Williams."

"Haley!?" Kara's eyes widened, her body surging upwards. "You mean that small blonde girl?" she exclaimed, shocked.

Andre cleared his throat and nodded weakly. "Yes, her father has been seen doing shady things outside of the Italian Mafia—supposedly working with the 'Malcolm's' gang."

"Haley was a part of it too. Though we don't know why they took Arabella or what she has to do with anything."

Nicolo looked over to Roman in the corner of the room—who was also sitting quietly, not saying a word.

Arabella had mentioned the Haley girl to him. Ranting to her brother about the 'blonde bitch' that didn't seem to give her a break. Also being obsessed with her boyfriend, Roman.

Nicolo considered the kidnapping of his sister was partial because of this obsession this girl had with Roman. Considerably taking Arabella would somehow give her Roman?

He shook his head to rid of his thoughts. It was absurd and sickening. Though, it still didn't make sense as to why the father was involved.

"Maybe they were ordered by the gang to do it. Some sort of leverage to get back at Mr Malik?" Kara piped in.

Andre shrugged. "Possibly. We all have a lot of enemies, there are a lot of people out to get us—our loved ones the main weaknesses to get through to us."

Everyone fell silent. Taking in the information and reality of the situation.

The first to move was Roman. His powering, dominant stance—moves through the room and towards the exit.

"Theo." He called, his voice dead and cold. Theo got up, kissing Kara's cheek as he moved behind his best friend.

"We'll call if we find anything," Roman said, looking directly at Landon and he nodded, once.

Everyone watched him open the door and leave without a second word.

"Okay, everyone look over your tasks and we'll get to it." Andre sighed, running a hand through his hair as everyone did as he said.

As much as Andre looked and sounded okay. He was truly digging a deep hole inside him. The void in his heart for his Goddaughter was speculating.

He looked down at his phone as it pinged. A message he had received from his girlfriend. He nearly smiled at seeing her message, his heart granting butterflies from the mere thought of the young woman.

Ariel was Andre's current lover. A girl he met after a mission. At the hospital's vending machine. He shook his head, thinking of her shy yet outgoing self.

At first, she was as shy as a bird. Blushing 24/5 and completely quiet. Though once you got to know her, she was like a firecracker.

Andre replied back quickly, letting her know he was doing okay—though knowing damn well he wasn't going to be okay until they found his Goddaughter.

✰

He moved through the crowd of people. Parting to the side, they made a straight clear-way for the boss himself to walk across.

Ahead was a table. A table with dangerous men, like himself. The blonde boy sat down first, sitting across the leader.

Then he sat down. Directly facing and directly looking straight into the eyes of the enemy.

"Roman Agnello, what can I do for you?" He hummed, sipping on the dark beverage he was just handed. "Where is she." He demanded, not even asking just demanding.

The man stopped his sipping midway, his beady blue eyes widening a fraction as burning in this throat paralysed him into a fit of coughs.

"Speak or it will worsen." The young man said darkly, viewing his shiny watch—the timing freshly on point.

Malcolm continued to choke, the poison evaporating his lungs to breathe. Every inhale was a breath of hell.

Roman sat back, patiently waiting for the man to speak. Darkness obscured the area around them, making anyone around's visual to see what was happening in the corner of the club—unidentifiable.

Blood was spurting out of his mouth. His dry coughs are now spluttering blood.

"You will die in 5 minutes, might as well speak now." Roman spun his pocket blade between his fingers, lowering his head as he watched him with dark eyes.

"I-I did nothing," He croaked, his lungs failing to give him oxygen. Theo chuckled, his head shaking with fake amusement.

"Bullshit,"

"It was the William's. The girl wanted her dead and the father took her to get money off you—he only used my men to help with the kidnapping, mentioning giving me half the money he was going to get."

"Always the fucking money," Theo grumbled, utterly pissed off that his friend was taken for a bunch of paper.

Another round of anger washed over Roman. An emotion that hadn't left him since his girl was taken from him.

Roman snapped his fingers towards his two bodyguards, they came on either side of the man—opening his mouth with a hold on his jaw and head.

The boy stood, taking the dark, poisoned drink and tipping the rest of it down his throat. The man wailed, gagging and coughing blood as the two males left the premises.

Leaving the dying man to pass alone.

Theo ran a hand through his hair as the wind gushed through them both. It was exactly 3 AM, the location of the girl still not known.

Roman lit his fifth cigarette for the day, the past three days he's gone through two whole packets.

He wasn't concerned, he didn't care. Arabella was somewhere in his city, unfound and hidden. If the tobacco wasn't killing him, this was.

"What do we do no—

Theo was cut off by Roman's phone blaring. His phone had gone off that many times today that it physically made them both roll their eyes.

Picking it up, Roman hadn't looked at the caller ID and answered with a harsh 'what'.

Her sweet, soothing voice came through the speaker and physically, his pulse stopped for a millisecond.

The cigarette in his mouth dropped to the ground, unwillingly. Roman walked over it, striding away from everyone around him as he listened to her strained voice.

Arabella mumbled, her voice in a whisper.

"Ella," He tugged on his hair, eyes narrowing to the dirty pavement as he waited for a reply.

She giggled quietly, her hold on the phone tightening as she waited to hear more of his voice—as did he.

Her voice cracked mid-sentence, making Roman's heart clench.

"Ella, where are you, baby?" His voice came out soft, unexpectedly. His heart bled, knowing that wherever she was, it wasn't good.

"Fuck Arabella," He growled, his voice deeper in a menacing, scary way. "Have they hurt you?" he asked the question he's been dying to hear but dreading to know.

The line went silent. Roman quickly pulled the phone away from his ear, checking to see if she was still there and she was.

She didn't answer, moving on to a different subject. She giggled and breathed in another breath, almost as if she were struggling to breathe.

"Arabella, are you hurt?" He asked again, this time with more force. She gulped, staying silent again.

Hurt filled her tone, only making his concern deepen.

"I'm going to get you out, okay?" He reassured her. She nodded, knowing he couldn't see her.

She asked him and he scoffed. "You're asking me how I am?"

She giggled and shrugged, her eyes frantically looking around the room as voices could be heard.

Roman's pulse picked up again. "I'm coming to get you soon, just hold on okay?"

He was nervous. For the first time in his twenty years of living, he was nervous. Nervous that he'll never talk to her again, nervous because his love was hurting.

She whispered, rattling being heard on the other side. Those words were like a closed up bullet wound being reopened again.

"I love you." He replied, but she had already hung up.

Slowly, he pulled the phone away and looked down at the caller ID. It read 'unknown' though he knew his men could trace it.

Immediately he called Theo over, commanding him to call his men and track the call.

Roman knew at that moment that he wouldn't let anybody hurt her again after this. He was going to save her and bring her home.

Home to him.