Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Something inside me fractures, splinters, and I launch myself at him. He doesn’t fight back as I topple us both to the floor. I hit him once, hard on the jaw, and the pain sings through me, tightening the bolts, battening the hatches. Yes. This is what I need.
I punch him again and again, but he doesn’t fight back. His body is limp as I grasp the front of his suit, holding him in place. “Fight back, you asshole,” I order.
He meets my eyes and shakes his head. “No, I deserve it. I was here when she left too. You haven’t punished me yet. Apparently, I didn’t learn my lesson from the last time.”
The last time someone snuck past him and almost took her from me. This time, she really is gone, and the pain I felt at the mere idea of her loss before is nothing compared to this hollow ache inside me now. With her gone, there’s nothing good in the world and absolutely no reason not to crush every single soul under my heel until they do my bidding.
Kai exhales loudly through his mouth, his bleeding nose not allowing him to breathe properly. I shove him to the ground and step over his body. At the bar in the corner, I grab the ice bucket and thrust my fist inside.
The chill takes some of the ache out of my knuckles, and I turn to face Kai again. He’s dragged himself off the floor and reset his nose. I throw some ice cubes in a rag and hand them to him. Without a word, he presses the cold compress to his face.
This is not the man I’m supposed to be. I’m not my father, who used violence to calm himself. Sure, I like pain, but not to deliver it. Not unless it’s righteous justice. And Kai would cut off a limb before he betrayed me.
I throw myself in one of the chairs and study the frozen picture of her leaving on the screen. “I need her back,” I whisper.
Then I look at him, my second-in-command, and let him see the sheen of tears in my eyes. “Without her, the world will burn, and me along with it. I won’t live without her. Even if she did walk away from me, I’ll lock her in our bedroom after dragging her back kicking and screaming, and that will be our lives. She promised me everything the day we got married, and I intend to make sure she makes good on that vow.”
Kai rights the chair we threw over and sits beside me. “We’ll find her. I promise, no matter what, we’ll find her.”
In my mind, no matter what means dead or alive. Which is another outcome I haven’t allowed myself to consider. What if she’s already dead, and that’s the reason there hasn’t been any sign of her?
The list of people who would love to see her bleeding out is short. Sal’s family comes to mind immediately, and maybe her father. Would he rather see his little girl dead than married to me?
Probably, but if he’s taken her from me, I’ll make what I did to Sal look like a fucking picnic before I finish with him. Either way, her father’s blood will be on my hands one day. It’s just a matter of sooner or later.
“Has her father made any moves?” I ask.
My knuckles are swollen and purple, but nothing is broken. I swivel the chair to get a look at Kai’s face. Nothing more than bruises now that he’s set the break.
Kai doesn’t say a thing about the beating I gave him. I don’t know if I’m ashamed or grateful. “Not that my men have told me. I’ll check in with them again. What now, Boss? Tell me what you need, and I’ll take care of it.”
I shove out of the chair and head toward the door. Only one thing will ease this void inside me. “I need her found, Kai. Now. Before I do something I can’t apologize for later.”
5
VALENTINA
The next day, I plan to check out of the motel and head to another one. At the very least to try to cover my tracks. It’s midmorning, later than I want to leave, but I’ve been too afraid to walk out the door for fear of someone seeing me and reporting back to Adrian.
A knock on the door makes me freeze mid-motion while packing up my bag. I ignore the sharp knock, and pray they go away. Maybe it’s housekeeping. Not that I’ve seen much of that since checking into this dump.
I gently shove the extra shirt I’m holding into the bag, straining to listen at the door. Another sharp knock makes me jump. This time, though, I drop my belongings, grab the gun, and shove it into the back of my pants. It’s dangerous, but it’s not like she’d given me a holster along with the weapon.