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When Danika rushed into the room, she was already shaking her head.
“What the hell is wrong?” I demanded, thudding the glass on my desk before taking long strides toward her.
“Your bride is gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
“She’s not upstairs and the front door is open a crack.”
“What the fuck?” I raced out of the room to the front door, flinging it open. I didn’t need to take a full assessment of the vehicles parked in front of my house. I knew them well.
And one was missing.
CHAPTER 13
Maria
Death.
I hadn’t thought about the darkness, the eternal abyss of death until my mother had come close to dying twice. The day I’d stood by my mother for the diagnosis had changed everything, the reminder that life was precious hitting me hard.
The ugliness of knowing that one day everyone I cared about would die either by natural causes, a disease, or a terrible accident hadn’t been easy to swallow, but I’d come to terms with the understanding that death was a part of life.
I also wasn’t a fool in that there were other more terrible reasons such as being robbed and killed or a drive-by shooting or a serial killer. Violence had certainly gotten worse over the years, but I’d always tried to keep from putting myself in a situation where I’d be in the wrong place at the wrong time or get in with a bad crowd. While bad boys had always seemed hot in the movies, I’d purposely dated the kind of guys you could take for a visit with your mother instead.
Now this.
My… husband had been near death yet he’d acted as if it was nothing more than a matter of doing business, an everyday occurrence. Meanwhile, I’d had difficulty breathing, my mind one huge blur from the understanding that if he’d been murdered, I’d be left in a family situation with people I didn’t know and a secret that might no longer be safe.
Not that it ever really was.
I had panicked after seeing so much blood, hearing about his soldier’s death, and understanding that because of my relationship to Daniel, I now had a target on my head.
I’d sulked in my room for a little while then decided it was best not to stay in the dark. When there’d been no one guarding the door, I’d decided a breath of fresh air would do. After walking outside, things had become a blur. However, it was obvious I’d found keys in one of the six or seven vehicles parked out in front of the estate.
I was almost ten miles away before the shock had worn off and I realized I was in some unknown car headed down the road at a high rate of speed. At least I’d grabbed my phone. What the hell was I supposed to do from here?
As frantic thoughts continued to race through my mind, I glanced into the rearview mirror a half dozen times, half expecting to see my new husband speeding toward me in one of his half dozen other vehicles. I was pleasantly surprised every time to find he wasn’t. Still, I was no fool. With every passing moment, the chances he’d figure out I’d fled became higher.
“What the hell are you doing, girl? This is crazy.”
Saying the words out loud didn’t make it any less so. I’d managed to grab my purse by habit more than anything, the fake ID I had in my wallet included credit cards. Maybe I could book a flight somewhere. Yeah, right. That would be the first thing the powerful man checked. At least I had some pocket cash, five hundred dollars or so.
Everything else, including the initial deposits after signing the contract, was safely locked away in a bank with no connection to the girl I’d once been. Everything possible to cover Margot’s tracks had been done. In fact, she didn’t exist any longer.
I smashed my hand on the steering wheel, fighting the fear that threatened to derail me, forcing me to tuck my tail between my legs and crawl back. I couldn’t do that. This had gone too far and there had to be a way out.
It suddenly dawned on me the only way I could do that was by talking with the real Maria. She’d given me a number to a burner phone that I had listed as a bogus name with explicit instructions not to use it unless it was an emergency. Well, if this didn’t qualify then I wasn’t certain what did.
My hand shaking, I managed to pull my phone from my purse, forced to slow down to less than breakneck speed so I could search for her number. Once found, I hesitated for a few seconds, realizing the ramifications of my actions could be harmful for both of us. But I needed to talk to her. Maybe I’d feel better.
Maybe I’d feel worse.
At least it was something I could control.
I dialed the number, half expecting it to go to a voicemail with a strange voice on the other end. When she answered, I was momentarily taken aback.
“What’s wrong?” she asked by way of answering.
