Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
I don’t look in her direction. “It’s fine. She’ll be down in a moment.”
Cynthia doesn’t settle back into her personal space. “I’m serious, Christian. My spirit is telling me that she’s not okay.”
“I said it’s fine.”
Even though my sight is straight ahead, I can see the disappointment seeping from her; I practically feel it radiating. And it’s loud and clear. Cynthia pushes back her seat, but I grip her wrist before she can get all the way up and force her back into her chair.
“Sit the fuck down,” I seethe and release her with a jerk.
It isn’t lost on me that Cynthia’s mother’s intuition must have kicked in. I’m sure it’s no coincidence that she gets worried at the same time as I have an uneasy feeling.
Always follow your gut, is what he’s taught me, and right now, that motherfucker is churning. Needing to know right now that Cynthia’s intuition is wrong, I jump to my feet and step around my chair, buttoning my tuxedo jacket as I do.
I saunter behind Cynthia and let my hand rest on her shoulder. “I’ll bring her down,” I announce in a tone that only she can hear.
I’m gone before she can respond, dodging running into someone along the way. There’s a slap to my back, and I give an empty tilt of my head and return the pat on the person’s shoulder. Siân is the only thing I care about that I go into tunnel vision, not even registering the face of whoever it is.
The closer I get to the house, the faster my steps grow as the soles of my shoes scrape against the blades of grass. I stalk up the stairs that lead into the kitchen entrance. Suddenly, I hear the slap of heels against the concrete stairs behind me, but I don’t bother turning to see.
It doesn’t surprise me that Cynthia didn’t listen. Like mother like daughter, I guess. We storm through the kitchen, past the dining room and grand living room, past the study, and past the ridiculously large paintings of twin pit bulls.
As we approach the guest bathroom, we spot the servant up ahead. His back is to us, and he’s whispering with Helga. Helga glances over his head, her back stiffening and her eyes bulging when she sees me.
He catches the expression she wears and slowly turns to peer back at me. I can see the larger gulp he takes and know immediately that Cynthia was right. We both were.
“Dov'è Siân?” Where is Siân?
He shrugs with a pained look on his pathetic mug while shaking his head from left to right. Rage starts to work its way through me, burning me up from the inside out. In the blink of an eye, I wrap my hand around his throat and slam him into the wall. The pictures on the wall rattle, but I don’t care.
Helga screams, and Cynthia claws at my back, yelling for me to let him go.
“Non lo so, signore.” I don’t know, Sir. He tries to slip his hand between my grasp and his throat, but it’s useless. “Sono venuto a trovarla come avevi chiesto ma non era qui.” I came to find her as you asked, but she wasn’t here. He struggles to get out, gasping between words.
I release him and huddle over, fighting to catch his breath. I storm into the bathroom, and he’s right—Siân isn’t here. The bathroom is cold and stale. The water is still running, and when I turn to face the door, my shoe slicks across something slippery. Cynthia and I glance down simultaneously.
My body stills, back steeled, fist balled at my sides so tight I break the skin. My palm stings as warm sticky blood drips between my fingers
“Fucking find her!” I yell and push out of the bathroom
I see red, pushing Helga out of the way, but Cynthia catches her in her arms. Reaching for the closest painting, I rip it from the wall and toss it down the hall. It smashes against the tall decorative vase, sending glass everywhere.
But I won't stop. I spin in the opposite direction, stalking my way to the security room. Someone took her from right under my fucking nose. While we were all out there, she was in here being attacked.
I replay the faces of everyone in my head, searching my memory to be sure nothing or no one was out of place or missing. But I come up short. Tony was still at the table when I left, and so was Samuele. Noone less here would have dared to cross me like this, so that leaves just one person. Whoever sent that doctor and tried to kidnap her at the hotel.
It has to be the person taking out the different families. But why Siân? Why would they set their sights on her when there is a room full of men from our organization? Something tells me this is personal.