Page 129 of Until the Sea Runs Dry

31

The drive to the beach house was easier than Marko had thought possible.

Getting the actual address had proven to be the most difficult task, though when you were as smart as he was, there was always a way.

The famous Logan Steel didn’t think enough about his security as he was able to park his rental vehicle — a flashy Porsche so he wouldn’t stick out in this neighborhood — only a few blocks away. Then, it was a simple case of jogging the rest of the way to the house.

He wore a hoodie and sweatpants and looked for all the world like a jogger on his evening run. He’d even passed a police cruiser that he’d waved at, thanking them for their tireless work. The clueless cops had grinned, puffing up their chests like the baboons they were, before leaving, probably heading to the nearest Dunkin Donuts.

The eight-foot-tall steel fence that surrounded the property was more of a problem.

It wasn’t electrified, but despite walking its circumference, he hadn’t found a weak link in the entire thing. If only he’d known ahead of time that the property stretched right onto the coast. He could have swam or used a jet-ski if the noise of one wouldn’t have reached the house.

At least the fence — with its half a foot gap between the posts — afforded a view into the property.

The movie star couldn’t be that bothered by privacy if he was happy to let just anyone have a view inside. This only confirmed what he thought about him: the man was full of crap.

In all the interviews he had read in the days leading up to this, Steel had talked about how private a person he was, how he didn’t like the paparazzi that pursued him endlessly. Yet, he hadn’t bothered with a simple screen that would have stopped anyone from peering in and seeing his disgusting hands all over his wife.

HisEmily.

His blood boiled with such heat that it was a wonder he didn’t implode right then and there. His fingers flexed, curled into a ball, wishing for something he could connect his fist to.

It wasn’t a dark night, not with that enormous pale moon casting silvery light around the area, yet he wasn’t concerned that he would be spotted. He’d chosen a section of the property that was hidden in the shadow of a row of tall oak trees, which protected him from being spotted while affording him a direct view into the back of the house.

Lit up like a Christmas tree, he’d been able to spy on her as she flitted around that enormous kitchen, cooking a vast meal that they hadn’t even eaten. It had stabbed him like a knife in the heart, seeing her so happy as she prepared food for another man when he had taught her everything she knew.

How could she do this to him?

How could she forget him so easily when he had been tortured by her face every minute of every day since she had jumped into that ocean?

Especially when, until the moment she had turned up at the marina and seen the unfortunate events that had come to pass, they had been blissfully happy.

Hadn’t he given her everything she could have possibly needed?

Designer clothes, an expensive house, even a membership to the most exclusive spa that was only ever offered to celebrities. She’d never had to work a day in her life while living under his roof.

Apparently, none of that had been good enough.

Not the way he had cultivated her from the backward hick she had been when they’d met, into the beautiful, polished woman she was now.

And Logan Steel was reaping all the benefit of his hard work.

He’d suffered for years, dealing with some of the most despicable scum to have ever walked this Earth, just so she could live a life of luxury.

The hours ticked on, though in typical Californian fashion, the temperature never went below comfortable. Marko was perfectly fine, seething with rage as he stood in his hiding spot, watching his wife fornicate and cheat on him with the night-vision goggles he had purchased online.

The wild abandon on her face as the scumbag kissed and touched her most intimate of places was almost too much to bear. But he forced himself to keep watching as his mind began to formulate a new plan.

Coming to LA, this Godforsaken, smog-filled cesspit, his intention had been to find out exactly what was going on, why there was no mention of her real identity, and why there was no mention of him.

But now that he had seen her face again, he was reminded of all she had ever meant to him. He had grieved her death, and those two weeks had been the worst of his life. Now that she was alive again, a new spark had been lit inside. She was his world, his light, and he didn’t care that she had left him once before.

All he cared about now was getting her back.

There was movement on the terrace outside the bedroom that caught his eye.

What was happening now?

---