The Billionaire's Rental Wife Is A Hot Shot

"Yes, Boss! I heard it myself!" Rita’s confirmation made Ronan and Damien exchange suspicious glances.

"Alright. Copy that to Michelle. Ask for the IT team to get me details on it ASAP!" Damien ordered, before ending the call.

"It might be a trap too," Canon murmured and Damien agreed with him. Gracia’s controllers might have gotten alerted and must have sent the fake location to lure them away, while safely shipping her through a different way.

"Derek!" Damien called out and the leader paused assigning tasks and walked to him. Carson too rushed over seeing Ronan’s expression darkening, with a tinge of slight worry.

"Someone called Evelyn and left a tip." Damien addressed the two leaders. "They suggest she is being migrated through Ameranda port."

"But that’s a long way from here," Derek murmured, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Even if they had moved early in the morning, it would take them at least until evening to reach there."

"And will we be able to make before them?" Ronan asked, trying to calculate the distance.

Derek firmly nodded. "If the weather doesn’t change, we can reach Ameranda quicker. But I don’t think we will able to reach before sunset."

Damien sighed softly, scratching his brows. "Call all the local thugs you know in Ameranda, ask them to discreetly monitor the port. And if they find her, ask them to attack immediately." He ordered.

Derek nodded and walked over to his men, explaining the changes in the plan. Taking the best of his team and also a few of Ronan’s men, he walked back to Damien.

"We both will leave with the team while you handle the search here, Derek. Take all the forces you need and make sure no spot is missed." Damien instructed Derek who nodded in response.

"Let’s go." Ronan nodded and they hurried to their car, with Jimmy on call to arrange the military helicopter that would fit everyone and also reach them faster. They all hoped for the tip to be true, if it wasn’t, whoever sent it would have a tortuous death for sure.

By the time Damien and Ronan reached the entrance of Ameranda, it was already too late. The weather had a taken sudden hit, making it fly faster in the wind.

Ronan looked at its watch that was ticking close to seven in the evening, everyone equally tensed as they hadn’t received any information from either side of the hunt.

"Who was assigned at the port?" Damien asked Jimmy who was talking over the walkie-talkie. Derek informed that they hadn’t found any traces of Gracia within the city, while the search in the outskirts was still ongoing.

"Did anyone contact from the port?" Jimmy asked in Spanish. Turning to Damien, he shook his head making the latter sigh out loud.

"Wait, Bell is calling me!" Derek heard over the roger. When he finished the call on the other side, he talked with Jimmy again. "Jimmy! You guys need to hurry up."

Damien and Ronan furrowed their brows, the tension inside the helicopter rising to new heights. Jimmy quickly passed the walkie-talkie to Damien, and Derek reported him.

"There were no movements until then. But an hour ago, a goods ship moved from the port. They didn’t suspect it first but someone noticed a few Lobo men driving away just now. It must be the one since strangely no other ship was ready to sail today."

"Can you locate the ship?" Damien asked Jimmy who quickly asked for their pilots.

"He says he will try!" Jimmy translated the pilot’s words and Damien nodded in response.

"Get all the base to be ready. Hurry over here, arrange for the best hospital, and keep the force ready." Damien ordered Derek, his voice filled with urgency. "We need to save her at all costs."

"Copy that!" Derek understood and ended the talk. Jimmy received the walkie-talkie, his expression slightly tense since Lobos were monsters. But with the two most the top mafia rulers in the world in their group, he knew this would be a success. He just hoped for Gracia to be alive until their arrival.

Soon, the two helicopters roared over the port, their searchlights cutting through the dark sky. The pilots expertly maneuvered over the water, scanning for any signs of movement. Amidst the waves, a large ship loomed in the distance, its silhouette stark against the dusky sky.

"There it is!" The pilot’s voice crackled through the headset. Turning around, he declared, "We located it!"

Damien stood up from his seat, having already put on his guard. Checking through his guns, he ordered, "Prepare for descent."

The pilot relayed orders to the next helicopter batch, ensuring they were ready to follow. The team strapped on their gear, checking weapons and securing their positions. The helicopter hovered above the ship, and with swift precision, ropes were deployed. One by one, the men dressed in all black slid down, landing silently on the deck.

They spread out, blending easily into the darkness of the ship. Moving stealthily, they checked each corner meticulously before hiding in secure spots.

Jimmy sent a signal indicating they were ready. Damien glanced at Ronan, who was ducked behind a barrel, and at his nod, he initiated the attack. "Shoot!"

The silence of the ship was shattered by bursts of gunfire. The Lobo men alerted to their presence, poured out from the ship’s interior, weapons blazing.

"We are attacked! Prepare the weapons!" the head screamed in Spanish, his bald head shining with sweat.

Damien aimed at him and fired, but the giant ducked, shooting back. Ronan took charge, drawing attention so Damien could descend with the others.

The deck transformed into a chaotic battlefield. Bullets whizzed through the air, ricocheting off metal surfaces and breaking the peace of the ocean. The Lobo men, fierce and relentless, fought back with grim determination.

Damien and Ronan moved with precision, their training evident in every calculated step and shot fired. Whoever targeted them either got shot or thrown into the waters for the sharks to feast on.

Amidst the chaos, Damien’s eyes scanned for Gracia. The sound of gunfire was deafening, but he remained focused. Ronan, equally determined, covered his back, their movements perfectly synchronized.

The Lobos were slowly losing, their numbers dwindling. Ronan realized their team would be able to handle the rest and rushed to Damien "Let’s move inside!" He suggested, shooting the one who attacked and killing him on the spot.

Damien nodded and kicking the other loser, they quickly left to search for Gracia. As they fought their way through the ship, more men blocked their path. The Lobo men were ruthless, but Damien and Ronan were relentless. They pushed forward, leaving bodies behind.

Finally, they reached the entrance to the ship’s lower levels. The sound of crying and screaming echoed through the narrow corridor. Damien exchanged a grim look with Ronan before they burst through the door, guns ready.

Inside, the scene was horrifying. Two men were hitting and lashing at Gracia, their faces twisted in frustration. It seemed they were trying to move her, but she stubbornly refused.

"Fuck!" One of the men, alerted by their presence, kicked Gracia hard in the stomach, sending her crawling back in fear.

Damien’s expression darkened. He shot the man in the knee, making him cry in pain, then fired again, killing him.

Another man shot at them, but the devils dodged easily. In one swift motion, Ronan kicked the gun out of his hand.

"Shit!" The man didn’t have time to flee as Damien raised his gun and shot him in the forehead. The man’s eyes widened before his body fell limp. Gracia struggled to sit and crawled back in terror.

Gracia, bleeding and weak, moved to the corner, her body trembling. Her face was a canvas of bruises and cuts, her eyes hollow and bloodshot. Her hair, matted with dirt and blood, clung to her scalp in tangled clumps. She wore a tattered patient dress, its once-white fabric now a grimy gray, clinging to her frail frame.

The men’s deadly gazes softened as they fell on her. It was clear she was tortured and abused. Damien rushed to her side, but she moved back, crawling and mumbling incoherently. Her hands shook uncontrollably, hugging her knees, her eyes wide with horror.

"Send us the medic to the basement! Quick!" Ronan ordered, moving forward to help Damien convince her.

Damien reached out a hand, his voice gentle despite the urgency. "Don’t worry, we’re not going to hurt you."

Gracia instinctively moved back, tears sticking to her bloodstained cheeks. Her eyes remained wild, her mind lost in the trauma.

Ronan knelt beside Damien, his expression softening. Suddenly, an idea struck him. "We’re Evelyn’s friends, Gracia. We’re here to save you," he whispered.

Gracia’s expression shifted to shock. She looked at Ronan, still confused. "Bunny?" she whispered.

"Yes!" Damien nodded, reaching out again. "We’re your Bunny’s friends." This time, Gracia didn’t push away.

Damien moved forward, holding her limp form as she collapsed.

"My Bunny?" Gracia asked again, tears trickling down her cheeks. When Damien nodded, her lips trembled. Her body was too weak to handle the shock, causing her to collapse in his arms.

Blood started pouring out of her mouth, and she coughed. Damien and Ronan exchanged panicked glances as a strange white substance oozed from the corner of her mouth.

"Gracia!" Damien patted her cheeks, Ronan equally tense.

The doctor rushed in with his two assistants. "They must’ve fed her poison," he said, examining her. His expression paled. "Her pulse is too weak. We might not be able to save her."