Forty-Seven Minutes

**[Ace's POV]**

The blood on the floor had started to dry, turning from crimson to rust. I stared at it, my mind cataloging every detail with the cold precision that had made me one of the most feared mafia bosses in the country. Sofia's blood. Not much—she'd fought back, that much was clear from the scene. Two bodies, both headshots. My girl had remembered her training.

But she was gone. And so was Jaxon.

"Ace." Ice's voice cut through the static in my head. "We found something."

I didn't move from where I knelt beside the dried blood. My hand clenched around Sofia's shattered phone, the screen's spiderweb cracks spreading out from Jaxon's last photo like a bullet impact. Forty-seven minutes. That's how long they'd been gone.

Forty-seven minutes of hell.

"Show me." My voice came out flat, emptied of emotion. It was the only way to function right now—lock it all down, become the machine my father had trained me to be. Feel later. Save them first.

Ice crouched beside me, tablet in hand. "Terry's phone. Dante cracked the encryption. There's a deleted text thread with an unknown number."

My jaw tightened at Terry's name. The man had been with us for three years. Ate at our table. Played with Jaxon during those first terrifying days in the NICU. And all along, he'd been the leak.

"What did it say?"

"Coordinates. Sent two hours before the attack." Ice swiped through screens. "But here's the thing—there's another message, sent after Terry was killed. From Terry's phone."

My head snapped up. "Someone else used it."

"Or Terry sent it before he died. It's just two words: 'Warehouse district.'"

I stood, my body moving on autopilot toward my weapons cabinet. "How many warehouses in that area?"

"Abandoned ones? Forty-seven."

Forty-seven. The same number of minutes my family had been gone. Some cosmic joke.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number. My finger hovered over the decline button before something made me answer. Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was rage. Maybe it was the small, terrified part of me that needed to hear my son was alive.

"Hernandez."

"Hello, brother."

My blood turned to ice. Gabriel's voice was smooth, almost pleasant. Like we were old friends catching up, not enemies in a war that had just turned personal.

"Where are they?"

"Safe. For now. I'm actually quite impressed with your wife—she killed two of my men before we subdued her. One with a knife to the throat, the other with his own gun. Remind me not to underestimate Diaz women."

The pride that flickered in my chest was immediately crushed by fury. "If you've hurt her—"

"Oh, I haven't laid a finger on her. Yet." A pause. "Your son, however... well, babies are so fragile, aren't they? All those soft spots on the skull. The way they depend on constant care, feeding every few hours. It would be such a shame if something happened because of... neglect."

My free hand shot out, punching through the drywall. Plaster dust rained down as I forced my voice steady. "What do you want?"

"I'm sending you a video. Watch it. Then we'll talk about what I want."

The call disconnected. Three seconds later, a video file came through. My hand shook—actually shook—as I pressed play.

The footage was grainy, shot in low light. Sofia was tied to a metal chair in what looked like a basement. Her face was pale, a bruise blooming on her left cheekbone, but her eyes... God, her eyes were fierce. Defiant. She wasn't broken.

Gabriel's voice came from off-screen. "Tell him, Sofia. Tell Ace what I told you."

Sofia's gaze found the camera, and for a moment, I could swear she was looking directly at me. Her lips moved, but no sound came out at first. Gabriel's shadow shifted closer, menacing.

"I said, tell him."

"He wants you to suffer." Sofia's voice was hoarse but steady. "He wants you to come for us so he can kill you in front of Jaxon and me. He wants—" She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening at something off-screen.

The camera shifted, panning to a corner of the room where a small bassinet sat. My heart stopped. Jaxon. My son was there, wrapped in a blanket, his tiny face scrunched up as he began to cry. The sound was muffled but unmistakable—that particular pitch that meant he was hungry.

"Your son needs to eat," Gabriel said conversationally. "But his mother is a bit... tied up. How long can a newborn go without food, do you think? Four hours? Six? Before the real damage sets in?"

Sofia strained against her restraints, her voice rising. "Let me feed him! Please, he's just a baby, he didn't—"

The video cut off.

I stared at the blank screen, my mind splitting into two distinct parts. One part was the father, the husband, screaming to get in a car and tear apart every building in Miami until I found them. The other part was the mafia boss, calculating odds, assessing threats, planning three moves ahead.

"Forty-seven warehouses," I said, my voice eerily calm. "We have maybe four hours before Jaxon's in real trouble. Less if he's already missed a feeding."

---

**[Sofia's POV]**

The zip ties had finally given way. My wrists burned where the plastic had cut into skin, but I was free. I'd been working on them for the past twenty minutes, using the edge of a broken metal bracket I'd found when Gabriel's men had dragged me to the bathroom earlier.

Jaxon's cries echoed from somewhere above me. Every maternal instinct screamed to run to him, but I forced myself to think tactically. Ace had trained me for this. *Assess the situation. Count the hostiles. Find the exits.*

Three guards that I'd seen. One door. No windows in this basement cell. But I'd noticed something during my brief trip upstairs—a loading bay door on the east side, partially hidden by stacked crates.

The door to my cell opened. I quickly tucked my hands behind my back, hiding the severed ties.

Gabriel descended the stairs, his expression unreadable. Up close, I could see the resemblance to Ace—something in the sharp jawline, the cold intensity of his gaze. But where Ace's eyes held depth, pain, and lately, love, Gabriel's held only emptiness.

"Your son is getting quite fussy," he said conversationally. "I'm told babies can sense their mother's distress. Do you think that's true?"

"Let me go to him." I kept my voice steady, non-threatening. "Please. He needs to eat."

"In a moment. First, I want you to understand something." Gabriel pulled out a phone, showing me a map with red dots converging on a location. "Your husband is very resourceful. He's narrowed down our location to a three-block radius. He'll be here soon."

My heart leaped with hope and terror in equal measure. Ace was coming. But that's exactly what Gabriel wanted.

"This is between you and Ace," I said carefully. "Jaxon and I—we're not part of whatever grudge you have against him."

"Oh, but you are." Gabriel's smile was cold. "You're the whole point. Ace's greatest weakness. The thing that makes him human instead of the monster Kai tried to create." He paused. "Did you know Ace cried after he killed our father? Ice told me. The great Ace Hernandez, weeping like a child over the man who tortured him for years."

"Because Ace isn't like Kai. He's not like you."

"No?" Gabriel's expression darkened. "We're all the same, Sofia. Sons of violence, bred for it, shaped by it. The only difference is Ace got to pretend he could escape it. He got the name, the power, the family. He got you."

Jaxon's cries intensified from upstairs. My breasts ached in response, milk letting down. Every second away from my son felt like torture.

"I'll make you a deal," Gabriel said suddenly. "I'll take you to Jaxon. Let you feed him, comfort him. But you have to do something for me first."

"What?"

"Call Ace. Tell him to come alone, or I'll kill the baby."

My blood ran cold. "I won't—"

"You will. Because we both know you'd do anything to protect your son. Even betray your husband." Gabriel's smile widened. "That's what mothers do, isn't it? Whatever it takes."

He was right. The knowledge sat like lead in my stomach. I would do anything for Jaxon. Even if it meant luring Ace into a trap.

But I wasn't the helpless girl I used to be. I'd killed Raul to save Ace. I'd survived my father's abuse, Ace's initial cruelty, the terror of nearly losing Jaxon in the NICU. I'd fought my way through every challenge this brutal world had thrown at me.

And I sure as hell wasn't going to let Gabriel use my love for my family against me.

"Okay," I said softly, letting my shoulders slump in defeat. "I'll call him. Just... please let me see my baby first."

Gabriel studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Smart choice. Come on."

He turned toward the stairs. The moment his back was to me, I moved.

The broken bracket was in my hand, sharp and deadly. I'd practiced this movement a thousand times in training with Ace—close the distance, strike fast, aim for vulnerable points. But Gabriel was faster than I expected. He spun, catching my wrist mid-strike.

"Nice try." His grip was crushing. "But you're going to have to do better than that."

I drove my knee up, aiming for his groin. He blocked it, but the movement threw him off balance. I twisted, using his grip on my wrist as leverage, and slammed my free elbow into his face.

Blood exploded from his nose. Gabriel stumbled back, and I ran for the stairs.

"Stop her!" Gabriel's roar echoed through the basement.

I hit the stairs at a full sprint, my heart hammering. Above me, I could hear Jaxon's cries, closer now. I just had to reach him, had to—

A guard appeared at the top of the stairs, weapon raised. I didn't slow down. Instead, I grabbed the stair railing and vaulted over it, landing hard on the concrete floor below. Pain shot through my ankle, but adrenaline kept me moving.

The loading bay. East side. I could see it now, partially obscured by crates. If I could just—

Arms wrapped around me from behind, lifting me off my feet. I thrashed, kicking backward, my heel connecting with someone's shin. They grunted but didn't let go.

"Enough!" Gabriel's voice, thick with blood from his broken nose. "Bring her upstairs. Let's see if she behaves better when she's watching her son cry."

They dragged me up the stairs. My ankle screamed in protest, probably sprained from the fall. But none of that mattered when I saw him.

Jaxon. In a bassinet in the corner of a large warehouse space, his face red from crying, his tiny fists waving in distress.

"Jaxon!" I strained against the arms holding me. "Please, let me go to him!"

Gabriel wiped blood from his face, his expression murderous. But then, surprisingly, he nodded. "Fine. Feed him. Comfort him. But know this, Sofia—you try anything else, and I'll make you watch while I hurt him. Understand?"

I nodded frantically. The guard released me, and I stumbled toward the bassinet, ignoring the pain in my ankle. I scooped Jaxon into my arms, and his cries immediately softened. He rooted against my chest, seeking comfort, seeking food.

I sat down right there on the dirty warehouse floor, adjusting my shirt to let him feed. The moment he latched on, the relief was overwhelming. He was okay. Hungry and scared, but okay.

"Touching," Gabriel said, pulling out his phone. "Ace will love this."

That's when I heard it—the screech of tires outside. Shouting. The unmistakable sound of weapons being readied.

Gabriel smiled. "Right on time. Let's see if your husband can save you before he dies trying."

I held Jaxon closer, my hand automatically going to the heart-shaped locket at my throat—the one Ace had given me. Whatever happened next, we were in this together.

All three of us.