He shrugs again. “Yes. She’s at her apartment. I called her as soon as I saw.”
I climb into the back of my car. “Take me to her.”
Paul runs around to the driver’s side and takes off. I ask him, “What do you mean you called her when you saw… you saw what?”
He holds up his phone. “It’s all over social media.”
“Show me,” I demand.
He tosses the phone to me, and I open the social media app. The first picture I see is Eleanor and Victor sitting at a table together. “Son of a bitch,” I mutter.
I swipe to another photo, and my jaw tightens. Victor is sitting across from my wife like it’s some casual lunch instead of what it is. This is a power move on his part, no doubt about it.
I swipe again, and a video pops up. It’s shaky, obviously being recorded by someone across the room. Victor is leaning toward her, talking, but I have no idea what he’s saying.
There’s no expression on Eleanor’s face.
The next is a picture of them standing, and it looks like Victor is about to touch her. His hand is raised but not touching her yet. Fuck. Did he?
“She said she’s fine,” Paul says as he drives through town. “A little shook up, but she’s fine. She’s at her apartment.”
I try to call her again, but it goes to voicemail, so I pocket my phone. “Who owns the restaurant?”
Paul meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “It’s neutral territory.”
“Buy it,” I demand. “If Eleanor wants to eat there, she needs to be able to do so without running into Victor Sterling.”
Paul looks at the road in front of us. “If you buy the Italiano, there’s going to be repercussions.”
My voice is thick. “He thought he could sit down at the same table as my wife. I’m either going to buy it or burn it to the ground.”
Paul nods, and I toss his phone into the console. I can’t look at any more pictures because they’re all making me sick. I pull my own phone out of my pocket and dial Eleanor again. She doesn’t answer. “Fuck.”
As soon as her voicemail picks up, I say, “Eleanor, answer your damn phone.”
Paul nervously looks at me. “We’re almost there.”
We finally pull into the parking lot of her apartment building, and I’m out of the car before it’s fully stopped. “Stay here,” I tell him.
I climb the stairs two at a time, and by the time I get to the third floor, I’m even angrier. I knock loudly on the door. Once, twice, and then a third time.
Impatiently, I shift my weight from one leg to the other and bang on the door again. “Eleanor, answer the door or I’m going to break it down.”
I finally hear movement on the other side. She’s unlatching the deadbolt, and I feel like I’m holding my breath until I see her.
When she finally opens the door, my mouth drops. There are tears rolling down her eyes, and it’s like my heart rolls in my chest. “Ellie… baby… are you okay? I’m going to kill him.”
She sniffs and shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. I was just so scared and?—”
I lift her chin up and search her eyes. “Did he touch you?”
She shakes her head. “No. He almost did, but it’s like he knew?—”
“He knew I’d kill him.”
She leans against me. “Probably.”
I hold her to me and move into the apartment, slamming the door behind us. “Baby, talk to me. Are you okay?”
