Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Once he got his shit together, he started his hunt for Anthony.
“My guys are scouring the streets,” he says.
I know he’s champing at the bit to get out there and look for Anthony himself rather than hang out at home with Brielle. But I didn’t want to leave her alone. The second we had pulled up to the house, she’d started crying, saying she didn’t want to go inside, obviously still traumatized by what Andrey put her through. But I’d assured her that there wasn’t a trace of Andrey left in that house.
“We need to find him,” I say as I turn onto the highway.
“We will. Before, we didn’t look because we didn’t care. But now, I’ll stop at nothing until I have him,” Matteo says in a bone-chilling tone that would even scare the hell out of me if I didn’t know that my brother would rather end his own life before he would ever hurt me.
When I arrive home, Brielle is asleep. Matteo takes off, and I check in with George, who tells me there’s been no movement. I grab my suitcase since I’ll be making an unplanned trip to Coral Bay in the morning and then take a quick shower.
I should get some sleep. It’s been a long couple of days, and tomorrow isn’t going to be any better. But my mind can’t stop racing, thinking about my last conversation with Peyton.
“I’ve moved on. I met someone else, and I need you to please leave me alone.”
Did she know that she was pregnant then?
But it doesn’t make sense. I’d contacted her. She could’ve told me on the phone. Instead, she lied. She knew how to contact me, yet she never did. She kept this huge secret from me, not giving a shit about me.
When I saw her on the plane, I thought it was fate. That it was my second chance to make Peyton mine. Now, the only thing I want is the goddamn truth.
With an old-fashioned and my laptop, I settle in on the couch to try to get some work done when Matteo calls.
“We found where he was staying.”
“Was?”
“The entire fucking place has been cleaned out,” he says, and even though I can’t see him, I can hear him punch something. “We have a fucking rat. Someone must have told him we were coming. It’s the only fucking way he could have known to pack up his shit and leave. I’m having our guys pull up the footage to see if we can find anything.”
“Keep me informed.”
“The goddamn maid? Are you fucking kidding?” Matteo grabs a vase from the end table and chucks it across the room.
“Hey, do you mind?” I bark. “I know you’re pissed. I am, too, but since we’re going to have to fire the cleaning crew, I’d rather not fuck up the place.”
“I’m going to fucking kill her,” he says, referring to the maid we caught on camera, who had placed bugs all over the goddamn house.
We’d gotten lax, not having our house swept for bugs, which made it easy for her to walk in, plant the bugs in various rooms, and then leave—allowing Anthony to hear every goddamn word we said.
“No, you’re not,” I tell him, my thoughts going back to Peyton and the way she feared me. “We don’t hurt women.”
Matteo nails me with a hard glare. “Fine. Then, I’ll send her ass back to wherever the fuck she came from.”
“First, we need to confirm that Anthony got to her. Then, we’ll—”
My phone rings with a call from George.
“Yeah.”
“She ran.”
Fuck.
“Follow her.” I jump up from my seat on the couch. “And send me your location. Remember, don’t fucking touch her.”
I hang up and grab my luggage by the door.
“Peyton ran,” I tell Matteo. “Apparently, she’s determined to defy me at every turn.”
He shakes his head. “Women are nothing but goddamn trouble.”
17
Peyton
I waited, wanting to make sure Dominick was gone before I made my escape. And then I held off a little longer, afraid he was still around. Then, after a couple of hours, I started to worry that if I stayed too long, he would return.
So, I packed up my stuff and made my move. I had found a flight heading back to Coral Bay in a few hours and booked it. It was with a commercial airline, so I had to pay for it, but there was no way I was risking getting on a private flight. If he had known what hotel and room to find me in, he’d also know when I was scheduled to get on the plane to go home.
When I stepped out of the room, the hall was empty, and I released a relieved breath, thinking I was in the clear. But the moment I started to walk toward the elevator, I felt someone on my trail. He followed me into the elevator, down to the first floor, and continued as I made my way to the airport.