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He came for me. Personally.
My husband, here in person to exact vengeance on the woman who betrayed him. And I can do nothing except continue to stare up at him, because every part of my body is frozen in place with terror.
4
“The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.”
Alice Walker
Rio
Her hairand eyes are different, but I would know my wife anywhere. Her very presence energizes me like no one else, and no amount of wigs or colored contact lenses can hide her from me.
She is thinner than I remember, notwithstanding the pregnant belly, of course. But her cheekbones stand out, her jawline is more sharply delineated, and her cheeks are pale. Too pale. Those signs tell me she hasn’t been looking after herself as well as she could. As well as she should, when she’s carrying the Agosti heir.
Her eyes are enormous in her face, dark circles surrounding them that should make her look older, more tired. But instead, she just seems…fragile. Delicate. Not what I was expecting.
But the defiance in her tight expression and the fire in her eyes—even though they are fake blue, not her usual honey brown—are as intense as I remember from before. And instantly, my body tightens in unwanted arousal.
Fuck. I did not expect she would still have that much of an effect on me.
I do notwantto feel anything for this woman except cold, hard anger.
When I called Danelli into my office, I had every intention of ordering him onto my private jet to head here on my behalf. The words that came out of my mouth shocked my second, but they shocked me even more.
“Ready the jet. I’m going to collect my wife.”
“Wait, Boss, I don’t think you…” He swallowed down whatever else he planned to say after I pinned him with a stare, and nodded instead. “Yes, sir. I’ll make the calls.”
I don’t know why I’m here. Like an errand boy. A messenger. I should have let Danelli come in my place. Me being here sends the wrong message to everyone. It makes me appear lovestruck. Pathetic.
I should be the hunterstalkingmy prey, not chasing after it like a puppy.
But here I am, and here she is, and I want to simultaneously lay her over my lap and spank the living daylights out of her, or fold her into my embrace and never let her go.
Weak. She makes me weak.
“Get in the car. And then remove the wig and contacts.” My tone is icy.
Good. At least I have some semblance of control left when it comes to her. Even if only my voice.
I step to one side and gesture her in, but instead of immediately complying, she takes a tiny step backward. Still thinking of running, even when she knows the act is impossible.
“How did you find me?” Her voice floats between us, a mere whisper, but my senses are so tuned in to her that I pick up other nuances in her tone.
She is terrified, and at the same time, she’s furious, but there is something else running beneath the words—not relief, exactly. I can’t pinpoint what it is. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess an element of desire. But that cannot be. She would never have run in the first place if desire still lived in her heart.
And yet, it is that unknown and indefinable element that excites my blood in a way I can’t explain.
“Rossi led us to Augusta and gave us your fake name.” Even with that lead, the investigators lost her trail after that, until a fortuitous stroke of luck.
“Carlos Rossi? But he… Why would he…”
She frowns, and I grin at her obvious confusion, though the lack of humor in my expression must be clear because she recoils from the smile.
“Yes. He thought twice about helping you, Bianca, especially when you didn’t arrive at the lovely little home he had arranged for you. He decided in the end he would rather give you up than face my wrath when I discovered what he had done.”
“Is he… Did you…” Her hand flutters at her throat as if she can’t articulate her query.
