Page 82 of Gatsby's Starlet
His gaze flicked back once, landing on me for half a second, and there was something in it that made my stomach drop.
“Put these bitches in the hole,” he added, before hurrying out of the room.
“I guess you fucked up,” Kane said. “but don’t worry, when he calms down I’ll come for you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THE RIDE BACKdidn’t feel as long this time,not because it wasn’t, but because there was nothing pulling at me from two directions anymore, no second-guessing, no loose ends to chase, just a straight line from what I knew to what needed to happen next, my head already there by the time I killed the engine and stepped inside, the only thing that mattered sitting heavy in my chest.
The noise from the main room rolled around me, voices, laughter, the usual, but none of it stuck, all of it sliding past like it didn’t belong to the same world anymore, because none of it had anything to do with her.
With where she was.
With what might already be happening.
The office door was shut when I got there, and I didn’t bother knocking, just pushed it open and stepped inside.
Devil looked up first, then Chain, then Mystic, whatever they’d been saying dying off the second they got a look at me, because I didn’t need to speak yet, my face handled that part.
I shut the door behind me, slower this time, letting it click into place.
“You find something?” Devil asked.
I didn’t answer right away, just reached into my pocket, pulled the note out, and dropped it on the table between us, letting it sit there a second before I said, “She left that.”
Devil grabbed it first, scanning it quick before slowing, his expression shifting as he read, something tightening in his jaw before he passed it to Chain.
Mystic didn’t move, just watched like he already knew whatever was in that note wasn’t going to sit right.
“What is it?” he asked, quieter now, but heavier for it.
“Nothing good,” I said, my gaze settling on him and holding there.
Chain finished reading and let out a low breath before handing it off, and that was when the room shifted.
Mystic took it, read it once, then again slower, and I watched it land, the moment he understood just how bad it was, the way everything in him went still around it.
“Drago,” he murmured. “Alive.”
Mystic’s jaw locked hard, his eyes dropping back to the page like he was checking it again, like it might say something different if he stared long enough, and then his fist slammed into Devil’s desk.
“How in the fuck is this possible? I watched him die under my hands.”
“I thought about that on the ride back,” I said. “The prospect who buried him—Jacob.”
“That fucking rat,” Devil growled. “He took him to Gabriel. That explains that hospital room setup at the mansion.”
“It tracks,” Chain muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “After what Mystic did to him, there’s no way he walks away from that without someone keepin’ him alive.”
Mystic didn’t answer, didn’t even look up, but I could see it moving through him, fast and mean.
This was Zeynep.
The one thing in this world he wouldn’t survive losing.
“Where is he?” he asked finally, voice low and tight.
“That I don’t know,” I said. “You’re still the only lead we’ve got on where they’re hiding.”
