The Bodyguard (Norcross #4) - Anna Hackett Page 0,65

well. “What’s happening?”

Maggie’s cheeks were flushed and her lipstick was gone.

Rome glanced between the two, but he had no time to contemplate them. “Sofie’s missing. Track her.”

Ace cursed and pulled out his phone. He swiped the screen, tapped. “Shit.”

“Ace?” Rome growled.

“There’s some sort of interference. Can’t get a clear lock.”

“Someone’s jamming it,” Vander said darkly.

Rome scanned and spotted the Italian brunette. “Her. She was with Sofie when the lights went out.”

They shoved through the crowd.

The woman raised her head and when she saw them coming, her eyes widened.

She spun and ran into the crowd.

Rome broke into a sprint. He ignored the startled cries and shouts. He sensed Vander right behind him.

The woman sprinted out into a marble-lined hall. She wasn’t so fast in her sky-high heels.

Suddenly, somebody rushed Rome from the side. A man crashed into him.

Grunting, Rome caught the man’s weight and spun. He saw the uniform and recognized the face.

One of the Serbians.

“Where’s the princess?” Rome demanded.

“Not with you.” The man swung a fist.

Fear and anger coalesced into a horrible ball of rage. Rome blocked the man’s punch, then launched his own fist right into the man’s jaw.

With a grunt, the man staggered back. Rome kept hitting, his knuckles striking flesh. Soon, the man’s teeth were bloodied and he dropped heavily to his knees.

“Where is she?” Rome said.

The man gave a gurgling laugh.

Rome’s jaw clenched. He gripped the front of the man’s shirt and punched him again, then again. Blood dribbled from the man’s mouth.

“Rome, enough,” Vander said.

Rome looked up. Vander was holding the brunette in front of him. She struggled, spitting Italian at him.

Vander shook her, and then said something in Italian in a low voice. The woman blanched and went still.

“Where is Princess Sofia?” Rome enunciated each word clearly.

The brunette sucked in a breath and looked away. The man on the ground made a choked sound.

Rome dragged the man up, ready to hit him again.

“She got away,” the man bit out.

“When the lights went off, she ran,” the woman added.

Dammit. Rome met Vander’s gaze.

Suddenly, Ace sprinted toward them. “I got a faint trace. She’s upstairs.”

Rome released the man and he fell to the tiles. Vander waved some security guards over. “Hold them.”

Rome hit the wide stairs at the end of the hall, taking them two at a time. Vander and Ace ran behind him.

At the top was a mezzanine level. Most of it was concealed from the main hall below by textured, lattice screens. Along the walls were loads of doors. As he shoved open one, he saw a stylish meeting room. He guessed the place was a rabbit warren of rooms and offices.

“Rome.” Vander gripped his shoulder. “You can’t help her if you go in hot, without a clear head.”

Rome sucked in a breath. He knew that. He’d seen people die by running in without being prepared.

Right now, the soldier in him was fighting against the frantic man who knew his woman was in danger.

He couldn’t fail her.

He locked down the molten emotions as best he could and nodded.

“Good.” Vander turned to Ace. “Where?”

“This way.” Ace pointed.

Vander pulled a Glock from under his jacket. Rome followed suit and pulled his own.

“Let’s move.” Vander said.

For a second, it was like being back on a Ghost Ops mission, with Vander giving orders. But this time the stakes were even higher. Sofie, the woman Rome loved, was in danger. Her life was on the line. Some sick fuck had her and Rome was going to make him pay.

Ace nodded at a door.

Rome lifted his foot, kicked the door open, and moved in.

The room was empty. “Clear.”

Vander moved fast and silently, weapon up. “Let’s find her.”

Ace pointed and Rome advanced on the next door.

Hold on, Sofie. I’m coming.

She couldn’t see a thing.

The bag over Sofie’s head blocked all her vision, and she was being dragged by Lorenz. She stumbled.

“Come, my sweet Sofie.”

He was still using the creepy whisper. She still couldn’t comprehend that her stalker was Lorenz.

She’d always liked the rare book dealer. He’d seemed decent, if a little quiet and staid. Tori had liked him.

But that bland face had been hiding a monster.

He dragged her up some stairs. The noise of the gala dimmed and she heard a door close.

All sound cut off, closing them in a private bubble. As far as she could tell, they were still in the building, but upstairs somewhere.

The bag was yanked off.

She blinked, and Lorenz’s unremarkable face came into view.

Sofie took a step back. “You wrote those notes.”

“Yes.” He cocked his head,