"We have a problem." Liam types into his phone, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He hits send, the message disappearing into the digital ether.

We're both wearing dry clothes that the couple that was vacationing in the cabin was so kind to lend us. Before saying goodbye, we barely managed to convince them not to call the ambulance: there was no way I'd risk anyone finding out why Liam and I were really out there in the storm.

The sooner we leave this place and head for the cave: the better.

"Just one?" I stick my tongue at him.

"Clever lass."

"Seriously, who are you texting to, though?" I lean over his shoulder, unable to contain my curiosity.

"Pat. Lucky me the bloody thing is waterproof, innit?" He waves his cell at me, allowing himself a small smile, and I mirror it back.

Can't help it. Smug Liam's mood is just contagious.

"Eh, mine wasn't that lucky." I sigh, and nudge a heap of metallic junk that is now my cell phone. Can't turn it on. No network coverage, either.

Basically useless.

"Patrick asks what the problem is. Should I tell 'im, sweetheart?"

"You mean, tell him how the boat we recently rented basically went down and now lies at the bottom of the Mediterranean sea?" I try to out-yell the wind, my voice barely audible over its howling. Not quite sure if it's working, but Liam still understands me.

"Aye. That." Liam chuckles. "And how we almost lost our lives, lass."

A wave of dread washes over me as I relive that highly unpleasant experience. My brain can totally pinpoint the exact moment we were stranded at the cruel sea, at the mercy of the elements.

But we made it out alive, to the shore, with joint efforts.

And now it's time to go to Sofia.

Liam's voice snaps me from re-experiencing the dire situation we've just gone through. "Well, there is good news, and the bad news. Which one would you like to hear first?"

"Always the bad news first." I bite down on my lip.

"Alright. So: Patrick says that the storm has reached the shore too. No one will rent them a boat now."

"Oh no? So they aren't coming? We... we can't expect reinforcements soon?"

"Sorry, no. But... The good news is... the storm should let up in a couple of hours. Pat, Rigena, and the reinforcements might be able to get to us by midday. If we're lucky." Liam wrinkles his forehead, which clearly tells me he is not sure at all that we're going to be particularly lucky.

Also: midday? He's nuts if he thinks I'm going to wait till midday. That's hours away.

"We'll figure something out, right?" Words fly out of my mouth before I can even think.

"Hey, sweetheart. Try and calm down," Liam says, probably, no, definitely noticing the expression on my face.

He presses me onto his chest and I sigh, taking in the familiar briny scent. The scent of comfort.

He'll know what to do.

"If ye want my honest opinion..."

"You know I do."

"I think that in the meantime..." he continues cautiously. "I think we should wait for the reinforcements."

I bob my head, my eyes filled with a desperate determination. "No, absolutely not. Are you crazy? We can't wait. Sofia is in danger. By midday, it could very well be too late. We have to go now. Now, Liam!"

"Alexandra..." Liam sits on the sandy patch in front of the cabin, and pats the spot next to him.

I opt to pace around him nervously instead.

"Please." Liam hesitates, his expression torn between concern and admiration. "I need you to sit here with me for a second."

"Oh fine." I bite into my lower lip and plop next to Liam Cavanaugh, fuming on the inside.

"The roles have reversed, lass," he says, using a tender, calming tone. "I still remember how ye used to soothe me over Nico's death. How ye used to sing to the beast that lay dormant inside." Liam smacks his chest pointedly with a fist.

"Ah, so now I am the beast?" I yell, proving his point.

"Well, ye can be bloody dangerous and downright scary when ye get something into yer head, sweetheart. And don't tell me it's not true."

He's kinda right, but, dammit, we don't have time to sit here and chat about our personalities.

"What's your point?"

"My point is, Alexandra, that I know what a cove is to a mafia member. It's a smuggler's haven. Grotta del Turco must, at this point, be a valuable asset to Kieran. This place is probably the main base of all of his operations in Italy, so to speak."

"Even better." I jut my chin stubbornly.

"How is that better, lass?" He lets out a sigh. "It can be riddled with hidden dangers. With traps. With... God knows what."

"But if what you say is true, it can also be filled with hidden compartments, or crates of whatever contraband Kieran has stuffed in there, right?"

"Aye, but I don't understand..."

"Time is of the essence. If we go now... We could both expose Kieran's illegal activities and save Sofia. Kill two birds with one stone. Or three," I add darkly.

It might be a sin, or a shocking thought to have, but there is no one else I'd rather see dead than my own father, Kieran The Knife Murphy.  Come to think of it, the man is directly responsible for the destruction of my new life, the life I naively started in Italy hoping to get rid of him.

And all this time I've been sleeping with the enemy. Literally.

Enzo, an enemy my own father planted in my bed.

Should've stayed dead the first time, motherfucker.

"I agree with you that time is of the essence," Liam starts carefully, placing a warm hand against my stiff, grateful shoulder. "But if we take one wrong step... Who's to say that Kieran won't hurt the child?"

His own granddaughter? Fat chance. But of course I can't tell Liam that. Not now.

I need him to be one hundred percent focused. One hundred percent himself. If he found out now, who Sofia really is, it would be detrimental for the search.

Detrimental?

I laugh at the voice inside my head.

Alexandra, darling, for someone who is so ashamed of her own mother's lying, manipulative schemes, you behave too much like her, don't you think?

The imaginary voice is right, though. Liam will find out when he sees Sofia anyway. Which, if we're lucky, should be in an hour, or two. To find her, we have to be a team. I can't have him reproaching this to me now.

"You know what? I think we should ask Rigena. She is the most competent one to decide after all. She could be the one to say if she wants us to be like her... Avangarde or not."

"You're right," Liam replies cautiously as if sensing I'm luring him into a trap, but he does text Patrick about it and I'm grateful.

"You know what's one of the cutest memories I have of Sophie?" Words just burst out of me spontaneously, like a flower in sudden bloom, while we wait for their reply.

The reply that, I'm sure, will benefit me. Rigena knows how much I want to go after Sophie immediately.

"What?" He flashes that adorable smile at me, rubbing my cheek with his stubble.

Liam understands I need to talk about it.

"I think it was mid-December, a bit before her birthday.  I was pacing the apartment like a caged animal."

"I can imagine." He grins, his fingers teasing my earlobe. "Ye always hated the dark, short, wet days of Dublin winter. No reason why it shouldn't be different here in Italy."

"Maybe, but I loved being outside, even in the ice-filled rain." I roll my eyes at Liam and snuggle closer to him.

There is something so tender and intimate about this moment. About sharing this with the father of my daughter.

Our daughter.

"So: Sofia and I went for a walk and she looked up at me and said: 'I'd like a pony.'"

"'I'm sure you will get one when you're older', you must have said." Liam disarms me with an affectionate smile.

"How did you know?" I tilt my head at him.

"I pride meself in knowing ye well, sweetheart."

He really does know me well, the bastard.

"And Sofia said: 'I'd like a pony today!'"

"With an accent on today?"

"Yes." I giggle.  "I replied: 'We can't find a pony today, but we'll start looking real soon, Rigena and I. Let's go home now and have tea.'"

"And did that answer satisfy the little Majesty?" Liam knits his eyebrows together. "It did, but she added: 'Tea with cakes?' So I had to reply: 'Definitely with cakes.'"

"Is there any other kind of tea?"

I smack him on the cheek, yet I can't help but smile.

"Out of the mouths of babes comes the truth," Liam says, rubbing the sore spot. " I totally deserved that. Tis my fault fer confirming it."

"Then we got her this full-size stuffed toy pony on rockers."

"Bet that she wasn't very happy with it."

"No she was not. She looked at it with such scorn, you would have loved to be there to see it."

I'm not even aware I am crying until I sense Liam's gentle fingertips carefully wiping the tears off my cheeks.

"'It's not real'," I say. "It's what Sophie ex-ex-ex-claimed." My words are barely getting out, my teeth are chattering, and I am shaking all over. It's so embarrassing but I just...

I couldn't bear if anything happened to my little girl.

"Shh, shh, sweetheart. Tis okay. Tis okay to cry." Liam rocks me in his arms with such care and tenderness it gets me even more emotional.

He's comforting me, and I'm not even sure if I deserve to be comforted by him.

By a man whom I denied seeing his only child for years.

I'm a monster.

By accusing Liam of putting himself first, when he accepted that mafia boss position... I selfishly put myself first, not even thinking how he would react when he found out.

How my own daughter would react.

It wasn't up to me to separate them, no matter what Liam's job was.

"She must mean a lot to you. Sophie."

"The world. The whole wide world."

"Ye must have told her it was a toy but that it was good indoors in that nasty weather."

"Yes," I whisper between sobs. "That's exactly what I said to her. When she climbed on it and rocked, Sophie said that.... For the pony that wasn't real it was not such a bad toy after all."

Liam must feel my continuous trembling, because his strong arms are tightening around me. "It's okay, Alex," he whispers. "We're almost there."

I try to focus on his words, to find some kind of solace in his kind, steady reassurance. But the fear is fucking too overwhelming, the uncertainty too suffocating. Tears keep streaming down my face, blurring my vision.

Liam holds me tightly, his embrace a warm, comforting cocoon. He strokes my hair, his touch a grounding force in the storm of my emotions. "Listen, luv. I know ye're scared, but we're going to get her back."

I nod, my voice barely a whisper. "I know. We have to."

His phone pings and a corner of his mouth lifts up in a smirk. "And, that would be the expected answer from Rigena."

"Did she say that we... We can go ahead?"

"She did." Liam rubs his temples. "Alright. We'll do this yer way, Alexandra. But let me get something straight. We're going to be just the two of us against at least a dozen people. It's gonna be risky."

"We don't have to reveal ourselves unless it's absolutely necessary?" I suggest.

"Good point. Just see how far we can go inside the cove, and gather some intel. Then wait for reinforcements."

"We can be sneaky, blend in with the shadows."

"But we need to be prepared, too," Liam whispers. "Here." He holds out two knives, their blades glinting in the dim light of cloudy morning.

I take one, my fingers trembling slightly as I examine it. The knife feels heavy in my hand —a symbol of the danger that awaits us.

"You need to be armed as well. Just in case."

I nod, a lump forming in my throat. It's a reasonable thing to do. Yet, the thought of facing armed men, of risking my life for Sofia, is terrifying.

I didn't have to be in an unpleasant situation like this one since my own kidnapping in Dublin, the Christmas shootout in Kieran's mansion and attack on Liam's life.

But I know I have no choice. I have to be strong, for my daughter's sake.

With the knife clenched tightly in my hand, I follow towards the grotto, my heart pounding in my chest.

"We'll disarm any isolated scout we encounter," Liam whispers.

I raise an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing my face. "You're serious?"

He meets my gaze, my eyes filled with a fierce determination. "More serious than you know. But if we see a group... We sneak past them. Deal?"

"Deal. You're right," I concede. "We'll be cautious. One misstep and Kieran's henchmen could alert the others."

"And we'll send Rigena and Patrick the exact location once we find Sofia," Liam adds.

As we now walk to the entrance, hand in hand, Liam reaches out, his fingers somehow finding mine in the pitch blackness. "We're in this together," he whispers, his familiar, husky voice the only source of comfort to me in the face of the unknown. "We're gonna be okay, luv."

I squeeze his hand back. "We are."

We then venture inside,  the darkness of the cove seems to swallow us whole. It presses in on us, a suffocating weight that threatens to consume us. The only sound I can hear is this bloody annoying, steady plip-plop dripping of water from the ceiling. With each step we take, the stale air grows thicker, as the humidity rises.

Fear, a kind of a cold, clammy dread, gnaws at my insides. I can't quite shake the feeling that by walking into the cove, we are walking into a trap.