FRANKIE

I remain frozen in my spot, unable to move. My mind refuses to process what just happened. Did they really just take Rafael away? And why? My mouth hangs open as questions flood my brain. Could this be Thomas's doing? Melina once told me he was arrested because of her. Maybe he got the idea to do the same to Rafael, revenge for how he made me dress and act last time. Oh God - that'll only make everything worse for me.

"Frankie," a voice cuts through my spiral. I blink to find Eleanor standing before me; concern etched across her face.

"I'm so sorry about what just happened. I..." I start but can't finish the lie. My brain's too shocked to conjure up an explanation for why Rafael was just hauled away by police.

"Don't apologize, sweetheart. We can reschedule lunch. Rafael asked us to make sure you get home safely. Jason's bringing the car around. Let's go."

"Oh, That's very kind, but it won't be necessary since we also came with our driver," I say, scanning the restaurant's cream-colored walls until I spot Luca in the corner, his dark suit tense as he speaks urgently into his phone. When our eyes meet, he gives a sharp nod, understanding he needs to get the car.

"We insist." Eleanor's grip on my arm is gentle but firm as she guides me through the maze of white-clothed tables. The click of our heels echoes against the marble as we reach the hallway, where Luca intercepts us. His usually composed face shows cracks of worry as I quickly explain the situation. After a moment's hesitation that speaks volumes, he agrees to lead the way.

The afternoon sun blinds me as we step outside to find Jason already waiting in the passenger seat of their sleek black SUV. During the ride home, I sit rigid in the leather seat, my thoughts racing. Every second feels wasted - Luca might have answers, might know what's really happening. But trapped in this well-meaning escort, all I can do is watch his car ahead of us and try to keep my breathing steady.

At home, I give Eleanor a quick kiss goodbye. My heart's already racing as I rush over to Luca, who's taking his sweet time closing his car door. Something's off about him – his usually pristine suit is slightly rumpled, his normally sharp eyes unfocused. Even when the cops dragged Rafael away, he hadn't looked this shaken.

"Luca?" When he doesn't respond, I reach out and touch his arm. He practically jumps out of his skin, whirling around with wild eyes that make my stomach drop. But in a blink, that vulnerability vanishes behind his familiar stone-cold expression.

"Everything's fine," he mutters, straightening his navy tie. "Don't worry about Capo. Segundo's handling it." Before I can press him further, he strides toward the back of the house, his polished shoes crunching on the gravel.

What the hell is happening today?

Pushing aside my unease about Luca's behavior, I burst through the front door, my voice echoing through the marble foyer as I call out for Julio. The knot in my stomach tightens with each passing second. Something about this whole situation feels wrong, terribly wrong.

"In here!" Julio's voice carries from Rafael's office. I practically sprint there, throwing the door open so hard it slams against the wall with a thunderous bang.

Julio looks up from Rafael's massive mahogany desk. His rolled-up sleeves expose his intricate tattoos, and his loosened collar reveals a version of him I've never seen. "Easy there, Frankie. Rafael's the most dangerous man in Mexico City, remember?"

"That's exactly why I'm freaking out!" My voice cracks, betraying the fear I'm trying to hide. "What's really going on, Julio?" The irony isn't lost on me – here I am, more worried about Rafael's safety than the fact he might kill me if Thomas is behind this. When did I start caring this much?

Julio runs a hand through his disheveled dark hair. "Best I can figure, whoever killed Diego is behind this too. But something's not adding up. Nobody should have enough pull to make the cops act this boldly." He paces the office, his boots silent against the Persian rug.

I share my theory about Thomas, but Julio's already shaking his head before I finish.

"Thomas may be powerful, but this is Mexico – a different ballgame entirely. We're missing something... or someone." His fist clenches at his side. "And when I find out who's stupid enough to pull this shit, they're dead." The rage in his voice matches the darkness in his eyes. It strikes me as odd that he's here strategizing instead of raising hell at the police station. He must be playing this smart, gathering intel before making his move.

"Who else has ever come close to matching Rafael's power here?" I ask, hoping to spark something in Julio's memory.

He stops pacing, his expression growing heavy. "Nobody, Frankie. The only bastard who could go toe-to-toe with Capo..." He pauses, tension rolling off him in waves. "Well, Capo fucking put him six feet under himself."

"Who?" I lean forward, curiosity burning, even though I know I won't recognize the name.

Julio takes a deep breath, his next words falling like lead in the quiet room. "His father."

The silence that follows is deafening. "Oh." Talk about a plot twist I wasn't expecting.

"Yeah." Julio's shoulders sag slightly. "And that fucker's definitely dead."

Watching him carry the weight of this mess, I feel helpless. "There has to be something I can do to help."

Julio crosses the room and takes my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. His calloused palm is warm against mine. "Just keep yourself safe, okay? I'd rather not have Capo murder me when he gets back." His attempt at a smile doesn't reach his eyes, but I return it anyway, nodding.

I head to my room and pace across the hardwood floor until I'm sure I'll wear a path in it. The sinking feeling from earlier has morphed into something darker more suffocating, now that I know Thomas isn't behind this. Men like Rafael are resilient, powerful, strong – but the thought hits me like a punch to the gut – still human. Still capable of bleeding. Still mortal.

My chest constricts, each breath becoming harder as images of Rafael hurt or worse flash through my mind. There has to be something I can do—some way to help. Before I realize it, I'm already moving toward my door, drawn back to Rafael's office like a magnet. I need to talk to Julio again to convince him to let me visit Rafael at the station. Just seeing him, even behind bars, would quiet this frantic beating in my heart before it explodes from my chest with the terror of losing him.

I find Julio in the hallway, his broad frame tensed as he speaks rapidly with someone. Their Spanish is too fast for me to catch, the words blending together until suddenly Julio switches to English, his voice bouncing off the walls with such force I physically flinch.

"How can you fucking tell me he isn't at the station? Where the fuck is he then?"

I freeze mid-step, his words hitting me like ice water. My brain refuses to process what I'm hearing, but my body knows – my knees weaken, my hands start to shake.

"Rafael is missing?" The words slip out as barely a whisper, but Julio spins around as if I'd shouted them. One look at his face – the raw fear barely concealed beneath his anger – and tears spring to my eyes. "Those weren't real police officers, were they?"

The muscle in his jaw ticks violently. "They were, but..." he hesitates, something I've never seen him do before.

"But what?" I rush forward, closing the space between us and the cop, desperate to understand. The officer murmurs a goodbye to Julio and steps away, giving us privacy.

"They were, but they're working for someone else—so they probably took Rafael directly to whoever's pulling the strings."

"But Rafael won't let that happen. He won't," I say, sniffling, trying to convince myself as much as Julio.

"Of course, he won't," Julio agrees, his voice rough. "Which only worries me more."

The implication hits me hard – Rafael would fight back. Would rather die than be taken. My heart threatens to shatter under the weight of that knowledge.

"Oh my God!" The words come out as a broken gasp as I run trembling hands through my hair. "We need to—"

The sharp ring of Julio's phone cuts through my rising panic. The screen flashes 'Unknown Number,' and Julio answers immediately, his usual caution forgotten in his desperation for answers.

"¿Bueno?" Julio's voice cuts through the silence, sharp as a blade. His thick brows draw together as he listens, eyes darting to me. "¿Por qué coño quieres hablar con ella?" The words come out as a growl, his knuckles bleaching white around the phone.

From his Spanish, I gather they want to speak to someone. My stomach tightens with unease.

"I am not giving her the phone until you fucking tell me why!" Julio switches to English, his voice echoing off the walls. My mind races - who could they want to talk to?

"What does she have to do with this?" Julio demands. The silence that follows feels endless, the tension building with each passing second. I hold my breath, waiting for him to end the call so I can understand what's happening when suddenly he thrusts the phone toward me.

I stare at it, confused, until understanding hits – I am the one they want to talk to. Why? The question dies on my lips as a voice comes through the speaker, one that turns my blood to ice.

"Hello, darling. It's been ages since I heard your voice. Won't you say hi to Daddy?"

My father's voice, that horrible voice that still haunts my nightmares, slithers through the phone. It feels like someone's taken a sledgehammer to my throat – I can't speak, can't breathe.

"Cat got your tongue, darling? That's fine. I'd also be shocked to hear my voice after so long. But don't worry; once I get you back, I'll find better use for that pretty mouth of yours."

Bile rises in my throat, my stomach heaving at his words. The fluorescent lights overhead suddenly seem too bright, too harsh.

"What do you want?" I force the words out, praying they sound stronger than I feel as my world crumbles around me.

"Really, darling? You need me to state the obvious?" His voice drips with malice, and hot tears spring to my eyes. The breakfast I had earlier threatens to make a reappearance.

"Where?" I manage to ask. I don't understand how he's connected to Rafael's disappearance, but his endgame is clear – me. He'll probably release Rafael once he has what he really wants.

"No!" Julio lunges forward, yanking the phone off speaker. "She's not going anywhere. You think I'm stupid enough to—" He cuts off abruptly, his face darkening like a thundercloud. "You son of a bitch." Another pause, heavy with tension. "Prove it. Put him on."

My heart slams against my ribs. Rafael? Are they going to let us hear him? I lean closer to Julio, straining to catch any sound from the phone, my hands trembling at my sides.

One look at Julio's face tells me everything. Whatever proof they've provided has shattered his composure. His eyes meet mine, and for the first time since I've known this mountain of a man, I see raw fear there.

"Ten minutes," my father's voice cuts through the speaker, sharp as broken glass. "The abandoned warehouse on Calle Victoria. She comes alone, or I start sending pieces of your boss back in gift boxes." The line goes dead, leaving only the sound of my thundering heart.

"I'm going," I say before Julio can speak, my voice steadier than I feel.

"Over my dead body." Julio's fist clenches at his side. "Rafael will kill me if something happens to you."

"My father won't hurt me. I can handle him." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.

"If you can handle him, so can Rafael."

"Probably, but right now, we don't know what my father has done or learned during his time in prison. What he's capable of." My voice cracks like thin ice. "I've lived with him, Julio. I know him. He won't stop until he has me." Relief washes over me, knowing Melina is safe with Thomas right now.

"Frankie—"

"No, listen to me." I swallow hard, forcing out words that feel like shards of glass. "My father... he's not just cruel, he's patient. He'll wait, and he'll hurt Rafael just to make me suffer. I can't..." My hands tremble, but my voice finds its strength. "I won't let Rafael be tortured because I'm too scared to face my past."

Conflict rages across Julio's face. "You think Rafael will thank me for trading you for him? You think he'll forgive either of us?"

"He doesn't have to forgive me." I lift my chin, steel in my spine. "He just has to live."

"Still fucking no."

I open my mouth to argue, but Julio cuts me off, his voice raw with emotion. "No, Frankie. For the first time in years, I've seen something other than void in my friend's eyes, and you think I would take that fucking light away from him? Over my dead body. I'm gonna find a way to get him back without surrendering you, and that's final."

I release a deep sigh, my shoulders sagging under the weight of helplessness. "Alright, but I have to ask – how did my father get the Mexican police to work for him?"

"That's another puzzle I can't solve," Julio says, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "But soon I will find out."