Page 143 of His Cursed Heart

"Fair point." He murmurs.

"Do you know where my little, badass of a wife sneaks, Arius?" I ask him again, impatient by the answer.

She never left Italy before, so where is she going to in Chicago?

"Yes, I texted you the address."

"Do I need to worry, Novak?" I ask with a tremble.

"Not that kind, Keaton." He assures me.

Please be just a damn art studio or something.

"Thank you." I murmur.

"What did you say?" He asks amused. I think it's the first time I hear him with another emotion in his voice besides coldness.

"I won't repeat again." I say back just as amused.

"I sent Empress's motorbike to you." I frown at that.

If I'm proud about something in this life besides my little family, it's the fact that I created Empress's motorbike. I made it six years ago with the model of an Arc Vector in mind. It's just bigger and way more technologically advanced.

While I build the motorbike, looking absolutely deadly and out of this world, Arius build a software protection. The Empress can start the engine with her finger print, control it from her phone, and other crazy shits Arius did.

When he called me six years ago and asked me if I'll help him surprise the Empress, of course I took the opportunity.

"What happened to it?"

"The engine sounds weird when she starts it." He says, leaving me with other questions about it, but he won't answer them. He spoke enough today.

"I'll look over it."

I open the message he sent me. My body tells me that I won't like what I'll found out, and this time I will listen to it. Even though I'll pray to be wrong.

I lean over Althea, careful to not squish Vince, and kiss her cheek multiple times, trying to not wake her. I let my lips stay a little longer, enjoying the softness of her skin. I don't want to leave her warmth and her scent that feeds my beast, but I need to know every single thing she hides in order to fulfill my promise I made.

The promise to always make her happy.

I look at her relaxed face, praying that when I'm back everything will be the same.

"Why do I have the feeling that it will shock me more than you saving me?" I ask her, and with one last kiss I

leave the room.

I park the car in front of the institution and I feel my body tremble.

Chicago's Mentally Ill Asylum.

I stare at the words, wishing that I just don't know how to read. But reality hits me hard.

What are you doing here, Althea?

My head is full of questions, ones worse than others, but with a shake of the head, I walk inside the asylum.

The interior is designed in warm colors, giving the rooms a calm atmosphere. Medical staff are wondering everywhere with people of all ages. My eyes meet the middle-aged woman with blonde hair that stays behind a desk, a big computer in front of her. I walk toward her, feeling eyes staring at me.

"Hello, Mrs.," I look over at the silver plate on her chest. "Mikels."

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