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“Remi, God. I am so sorry.” I repeat the words over and over again. I say the words until they don’t even sound like words anymore. I hold her head in my hands and kiss her forehead and ignore the muttering from the man who just broke my friend’s arm.
What seems like hours but are probably only mere minutes pass with little to no conversation between any of us, and I’m just grateful the man hasn’t come back over to me. He announces we’ve reached wherever we’ve been traveling to.
There are no windows in the back of the van, so I have no idea where we are, unable to get even a glimpse of our surroundings. The man gets up and pounds on the rear door three times in quick succession, and they open up, revealing the bright sun. It takes my eyes a minute to adjust because it’s so damn dark back here.
Remi and I huddle together, scooting toward the back of the van again, but once we’ve made a bit of progress, I’m tugged away from her by my arm.
A yellow cloth is placed over my mouth just as Remi screams.
I stepthrough the underground garage door and into the house, then take the elevator that feels like it’s taking its sweet-ass time.
Giana has refused to answer my calls and texts for over two hours. At first, I waited patiently, assuming she was working on making our suite a bit more hers. She’s been making over the walk-in closets—assisting with organizing mine, and turning the other into hers.
The one that used to belong to Julissa. I don’t have time to think of Julissa right now.
My scars run deep for both her and Sofia.
But I’ve finally found a slice of fucking happiness, and I’ve found myself to be quite the greedy asshole about it.
The second I step off the elevator and onto the main floor of my house, I call out, “Where the fuck is my woman?”
My voice echoes in the hallway. A few of my employees scurry by and out of sight, but as I make my way into the kitchen, my blood boiling and pissed at her for making me worry, I find Kenneth, my estate manager.
He’s holding his cell phone in one palm, the other scrubbing over his face. “I was just about to call you. I just arrived and found Charlie knocked out by the service door. Camera footage is down, but there’s no way he’s been there long. Someone would have seen him.”
I cross the kitchen to where Kenneth stands and grab him by the shirt, yanking him upward until he’s resting against the wall and I’ve got him inches from my face.
“Where the fuck is Giana?”
I throw him to the floor and immediately start running through the house, scanning each room until I hear Kenneth behind me.
“Dove cazzo è Giana?”I direct it at Kenneth, but he doesn’t reply.
He coughs as he gasps for breath, but I don’t stop to check on him.
And I feel zero remorse.
Not right now.
“Giana!” A primal scream rips from my throat. “Giana!”
I bound up the stairs, taking them two at a time as my blood flames beneath my skin.
“She’s gone, Mr. DeSantis. I’ve searched. I’ve called your father, and he’s on his way.”
I stop in my tracks and spin around to face Kenneth.
If I thought I was fucking pissed before, now I’m next-level batshit crazy.
“You called my father before calling me?” My feet stay rooted in their spot as I sway, feeling nauseous. “You fucking called Romeo before you called me when my girlfriend is missing?”
As if right on cue, my father’s voice carries up the stairs. It’s faint, and I can barely make it out, but I know it’s him.
“I swear to fucking hell,” I spit at him. “If even so much as a hair on Giana’s head is out of place when I find her, I will cut your heart out and shove it down your son’s throat.”
I shoulder check him on my way to find my father. Kenneth is a lucky bastard that I don’t have time to waste on him.
Not when the inevitable has finally happened.
