Aiden had been getting dressed after his bath when the noise outside the room caught his attention.
It sounded like… footsteps, many of them, and they were approaching rapidly.
Frowning, he slipped into Zain’s shirt and opened the door to check what was going on.
He was greeted with a gun aimed at his face.
Aiden froze, and then slowly lifted his hands as his mind worked to process what was happening.
There were seven armed men in the corridor. They looked strange, and it took Aiden a moment to realize why: he’d gotten so used to Arabic facial features that seeing Caucasian features took him aback. Intruders. They were clearly intruders. The house was guarded by at least a dozen security guards—had been. It was highly unlikely that these big, armed men had managed to sneak past them.
One of the men stepped forward and said something in what sounded like Italian to the guy who held the gun to Aiden’s face.
The guy nodded and let the hand with the gun drop to his side.
Aiden exhaled. “Who the hell are you?” he said, wishing he hadn’t left his brand-new phone on the nightstand.
The man who had just issued the order to drop the gun said in accented English, “We’re here to rescue you.”
“Rescue me?” Aiden repeated numbly, blinking.
“Yes,” he said, laying a hand on Aiden’s arm and steering him none-too-gently down the corridor. “My name is Lorenzo. We need to leave quickly. We dealt with the guards, but we can’t be sure that one of the staff hadn’t managed to contact someone, asking for reinforcements.”
Nausea churned in Aiden’s gut, rising to his throat. “You k-killed them?”
Lorenzo shrugged. “Some of them might be just knocked out, but yeah, more or less. They won’t be a problem. But there isn’t enough of us if more people arrive soon. That’s why we need to leave quickly— What?”
Aiden stared, wide-eyed, at the body in the main hall, lying in a pool of blood. It was Ibrahim, the young guy who had served them breakfast just yesterday.
Unable to hold back the nausea, he doubled over and puked all over the floor.
Lorenzo sighed, having the nerve to look disgusted, as if Aiden’s puke was more sickening than the dead body a few feet away. “Come on,” he said impatiently, tugging Aiden toward the front door.
“Let go of me!” Aiden snapped, wrenching his arm free and backing away. “I’m not going anywhere with a bunch of killers!”
The men exchanged looks that didn’t need translation: they looked as if Aiden were the crazy and unreasonable one.
Lorenzo sighed again. “I should have expected this. Your brother is a lot more cool-headed, but you’re still just a kid.”
Aiden’s stomach dropped. “My brother? You kidnapped Jordan too? Where is he? What did you do to him?”
After a moment’s pause, Lorenzo said, “If you want your brother to live, you will come with us, quietly and quickly. Or he will die.”
One of the men laughed meanly but was quickly silenced by Lorenzo’s look.
“Let’s go,” Lorenzo barked out again, grabbing Aiden’s arm.
This time Aiden didn’t resist. If these assholes had Jordan, he couldn’t risk his life. He would have to comply—for now.
But his resolve weakened when he saw more bodies in the grounds around the house. God, why? So many lives taken to “rescue” him? It made no sense. These assholes weren’t rescuers. They were cold-blooded killers. What did they want with him and Jordan?
The endless questions buzzed in Aiden’s head all the way to the helicopter waiting for them.
He was so confused and distracted by those questions that it took him a while to realize that they had taken off and Zain’s private island was quickly disappearing out of sight.
Zain.
They didn’t… These bastards hadn’t done anything to him, right?
His heartbeat became so fast he felt dizzy, gasping for breath.
“What’s wrong now?” Lorenzo said gruffly.
“What did you do to Zain?”
Lorenzo’s expression darkened. “Nothing. We didn’t have time. We received the confirmation that he was the one who had you only this morning, and we had to prioritize. We decided to get you while he was busy with his brother. We can always deal with him later if the boss gives the order.”
Aiden breathed out. Okay. All right. Zain was safe for now; that was the important thing. And after finding all of his people brutally murdered, he would be on his guard.
It would be all right. Everything was going to be all right. Aiden would escape or Zain would find him, or—any alternative was unthinkable.
It was going to be all right.
This would seem like a distant nightmare once he was back with Zain.
And he would be.
He would be.
***
It didn’t take Aiden long to completely lose track of time. He had been moved from the helicopter to a private jet and then to another helicopter. He’d been offered food a few times, but Aiden refused to touch it. He didn’t trust these assholes. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were lying about having Jordan too.
The more Aiden thought about it, the more likely it seemed. But he still couldn’t risk Jordan’s life, on the off-chance that he was wrong.
So he waited.
At long last, their helicopter landed.
Wherever they were, it was early evening there.
Aiden frowned, looking around.
One thing was for sure: they weren’t in the UAE anymore. The weather was cold here. Well, not cold cold—it was pretty mild for February—but it was a world of difference from the Arabian heat Aiden had gotten used to in the past year.
The climate here seemed… Mediterranean. He could see hills covered in cypress trees, and there seemed to be a beach—and sea—some distance away.
“Where are we?” Aiden asked Lorenzo.
The man smiled. “Sicily.”
Frowning, Aiden eyed him warily. “What are we doing in Sicily?”
“I was ordered to find you and bring you to your brother. We didn’t kidnap him, by the way. He lives here.”
Aiden had never felt more lost. “Are you claiming my brother all of a sudden decided to move halfway across the world to Italy? That’s ridiculous. Jordan has no reason to—”
There was a man running toward him from the big white house on top of the hill.
Aiden’s breath caught in his throat when he recognized him.
It was Jordan.
His brother really was here. He didn’t look like he’d been kidnapped or hurt. He looked healthy, and he was wearing his usual high-end clothes. He looked fine.
Except for the fact that his brother was crying—his big brother who had never been one to express much emotion in public.
“Aiden!”
Before Aiden even understood what was happening, he was enveloped in Jordan’s arms and squeezed so hard his ribs hurt. “I can’t believe this,” Jordan said hoarsely. “They really found you.”
After a moment, Aiden hugged back, feeling absolutely confused—and suddenly, utterly terrified.
He had been rescued.
He really had been rescued.
