Chapter 12
The roar of the helicopter engines created a wall of sound that made verbal communication impossible. Lorenzo shielded Elena with his body as they stepped out onto the wide, open expanse of the rooftop helipad, the downdraft whipping their hair and clothes in a violent tempest. An armored tactical agent in matte black gear approached them immediately, signaling with hand gestures for them to move toward the open cabin door of the aircraft.
Lorenzo checked behind him. The roof hatch was still clear, but he knew Victor and his men would not give up without a final confrontation. He grabbed the agent’s shoulder, shouting over the deafening noise of the rotors.
"Inside! Get her inside!" Lorenzo commanded, guiding Elena toward the safety of the helicopter cabin.
Elena climbed aboard, collapsing onto the reinforced bench seat, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. But her eyes remained wide with terror as she looked around the cabin. "The child, Lorenzo! Where is Mia?"
The blood drained from Lorenzo’s face once more. In the frantic chaos of the rooftop escape, amidst the gunfire and smoke, the tactical agents had secured only the two adults. Mia had been left behind in the main living room with Victor.
Before Lorenzo could turn back toward the roof hatch to re-enter the penthouse, a heavy figure emerged from the stairwell exit. It was Victor. And in his arms, held tightly against his chest as a human shield, was little Mia. The toddler looked bewildered, her yellow dress stark against the tactical vest of her captor. Victor raised his sidearm, pressing the muzzle directly against the side of the little girl's head, shouting something lost in the roar of the helicopter blades.
Lorenzo froze, his hand dropping away from his own weapon. Every instinct he possessed screamed for action, but moving now meant risking his daughter's life instantly. The tactical agents near the aircraft doors raised their rifles, locking onto Victor, waiting for a clear shot that was entirely blocked by the child's small body.
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Victor grinned maniacally, his dark eyes fixed on Lorenzo across the open concrete pad. He was backing toward the edge of the helipad, intending to use the child to force the helicopter to land or provide him an escape route.
Lorenzo took a slow step forward, raising his empty hands to show he was no immediate threat. The wind whipped his dark hair across his face, his neck tattoo stark against his pale skin. He needed to find a way to break Victor's focus—just for a fraction of a second.
