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No reply.
Not even areadsign.
Throughout the day, I send her a thousand texts along the lines of…
In case no one mentioned it, I’m not a patient man, witch. So a push-and-pull game will only get your ass red and your pussy brutalized by my cock.
Can you at least let me know if you’re all right?
I swear to fuck, Aspen, I’m going to have Nicolo’s dogs search for you and lock you up in some cabin. Then I’ll put a tracker on you.
You haven’t seen my crazy side for a while, so maybe you missed it, but I promise you, sweetheart, you will regret this stunt when you’re unable to walk tomorrow.
Did something happen?
Don’t make me file a missing person’s report with the incompetent NYPD.
Did you tell your bodyguards not to pick up my calls?
By the time I go home, I’m in a mood that’s sourer than vinegar and just as bitter. I called Gwen to snoop around and she said she was having alone time with Nate.
I hung up before she went into disgusting details.
That ruled out Nate as well since the stoic motherfucker actually forgets about the world when he’s with my daughter.
Caroline Luciano was of no help either and even proceeded to make my ears bleed with how Aspen is heartless and has only called her once since she finally moved out.
I’m dialing Nicolo’s number as I’m stepping out of my car. When I talked to the fucker about the last attack outside of his club, which was undeniably orchestrated by Bruno, he sang the usual tune of “no proof.” But he did offer some of his men for protection, whom Aspen refused, choosing Mateo’s men instead.
If Bruno is pulling another stunt, I’ll severe Nicolo’s head from his neck.
My fingers pause when I find Aspen’s Range Rover in my circular driveway.
She’s…here.
I refuse to honor the feeling in my chest with a name as I stride into the house, hell-bent on spanking her ass until she begs me to stop.
Aspen is crouching in the middle of the grand hall in front of the demon painting, her shoulders slumped and her eyes glued to it.
“Why, and I can’t stress this enough,the fuckaren’t you answering your phone?” I stop in front of her and I’m taken aback by the redness in her cheeks and the bottomless lack of color in the depths of her eyes as she slowly stares up at me.
“I don’t know where I threw it,” she says, voice low, almost meek.
I grab her by the arm, pulling her to her feet. I’m so used to Aspen being a damn gladiator that it feels off to see her so vulnerable.
The stench of alcohol assaults me when she grabs my face and attempts to kiss me. One of the few times she’s gone for it first. Another red flag.
“You’re drunk,” I state the obvious.
“Don’t be the boring alcohol police. And I’m not drunk, just a little tipsy.”
“Did you drive while drunk?”
“No. I stole one of your wine bottles once I got here, and I still don’t get the hype. Tequila is better.”
A muscle tightens in my jaw. “Where’s Martha?”
“Don’t reproach her about this. She thought I was in Gwen’s room.” She slides her small hands down my sides and to my cock.
