Page 56 of Inked Adonis

My mother’s gaunt face flashes before my eyes. It was impossible, of course, but she seemed to get worse each time my father played me the video.

Each time he sat me in front of the screen, she decayed in my eyes. I started to hate the sight of her. She’d fooled me. The smiling photo of her young and beautiful had been a lie, pure smoke and fucking mirrors, and I’d bought it.

I hated her for leaving me.

I hated her more for making me hope she’d come back.

“Sam…?”

I blink back to the moment with a small shake of my head.

Myles eyes me suspiciously. “Where’d you go?”

“No place good,” I admit, clearing my throat. “I know I said I wanted to get on the ice tonight, but I changed my mind. I’m out.”

He watches me too carefully. “You sure? It’s never a good sign when you bail.”

“I’m fine.”

“Got anything else planned?”

I ignore him because the truth is, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore. I stand, grabbing my phone and my coat as I go. “I want an intel report on Hope’s Helpers by the end of the week.”

My hand is on the handle of the door when Myles speaks. His voice is so quiet that I almost miss it. “You know, Nova is not your mother, Sam.”

This is what I get for hiring the best. Myles sees me even when I don’t want him to.

I hesitate for only a second.

Then I walk out as though I didn’t hear a word he said.

19

SAMUIL

I’ve always fought off my demons on the ice. There’s something about the cold, the unyielding bite of steel against the rink, that soothes me.

And yet, as I walk the seven blocks from the Litvinov Group building to my high rise, it’s warmth I’m after.

Herwarmth.

No woman has ever gotten under my skin like Nova Pierce. Not even Katerina, though that snake tried her best to worm her way the fuck in.

Then again, no one with even a single functional synapse left in their skull would ever accuse Katerina of being “warm.”

“Where is she?” I bark as soon as I step out of the elevator.

Rolland, the lead soldier on duty, stands to attention. “Her bedroom with the dog, sir. Last I checked.”

That’s where she was lastIchecked, too.

But the dog in question bounds down the hallway, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, no Nova in sight.

“Where is she, Ru?” I pat the dog behind the ears, but he’s too busy nudging his head into my thigh to be of any use.

As if I’m the hound, I follow her honeydew scent around the house. I retrace the paths I saw her walk in the security footage, but she’s nowhere. Even her room is empty.

By the time I double back to the living room, I’m tearing open doors and prepared to start ripping into cushions. This place is a fucking fortress. There’s no way she escaped.

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