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Deep in my chest, a low, dark thing uncurls, stretches, and starts to breathe.

"He dragged her behind the east stairwell,” my twin continues. "Where he raped and strangled her unconscious, then left her for dead."

The darkness inside me goes very still, like a wild animal right before it strikes.

"Where is she now?" I say.

"Hospital. Private room. Caruso arranged it. She's in a bad way, Dante."

I look down at my desk. "Footage?"

"Garage cameras caught everything." He pauses. "Do you want to see it?"

"Yes."

He pulls his phone from his inside pocket and crosses the room. He sets it on the desk in front of me, then presses play.

I watch it all the way through.

Every depraved second.

The drunk stumbling back into the garage after security tossed him. The way he crouches behind a concrete pillar like the coward he is. The way Katie walks to her car, her bag over her shoulder and her phone in her hand, tired, distracted, and completely unaware of the predator ten feet behind her.

My stomach twists, but I keep watching.

Then he lunges. His hand clamps over her mouth, and he drags her backward into the shadows.

My teeth are clenched so hard my jaw aches.

I force myself to keep watching.

Every second.

Every fucking second.

By the time the footage ends, fury is burning through me so hot I can barely think.

I am a monster to plenty of people.

I’ve earned that reputation.

But I have never hurt a woman. I never will.

And anyone who puts their hands on a woman like that, anyone who uses fear or violence to violate her, forfeits whatever mercy I might otherwise have offered.

I look at the frozen screen.

My stomach revolts again.

“Find him.”

"Deno and Caruso picked him up an hour ago." John Marco's eyes meet mine. "He's downstairs."

I push back from my desk and stand. “Then that’s where I’m going.”

"Right," he says quietly, and steps aside to hold the door open for me.

“Have the police been called?” I ask.