Asa's POV

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

I asked again, my voice tearing through the smoky air as I pressed Dario Alvez to the ground. My hand now was on his throat, his blood-smeared face glaring up at me with defiance.

He spat at me, a dark mix of saliva and blood, and muttered a curse in Portuguese.

I didn’t even think. My boot came down hard into his ribs.

He let out a sharp groan, curling slightly, but still smirking through the pain.

“Bring him up.” I snapped.

And without hesitation, ...