Page 48 of Charming Villain

I bark a humorless laugh that might be half a sob. “There’s no wedding taking place today.”

Dante blocks my path for half a heartbeat, but one look at my expression, and he steps aside. He’s known me too long not to see what’s boiling inside. “We’ll help,” he starts, but I shake my head.

I can’t wait. I can’t risk precious seconds on explanations or calm strategizing. She could be miles away by now. She could be flagged down at a bus station or cornered in a back alley. The possibility that she might be pregnant only cranks the panic tighter.

Behind me, Niccolo calls my name again, Salvatore sputters curses, and Dante tries to coordinate the staff. But I’m already gone, striding down the corridors with such force that I knock over a table of champagne flutes. They crash in a musical trill, champagne and shards spraying across the marble floor. A half-dozen startled gazes track me as I barrel out the front entrance, ignoring the cluster of terrified wedding planners who gape at me.

Outside, the estate’s driveway is crowded with black SUVs, courtesy cars, and a throng of lesser families eager to witness the union. I scour the line for my own vehicle. A flash of black paint catches my eye—my sedan, parked near the gates. I sprint across the manicured lawn, not giving a damn about the carefully placed paving stones or the stares from onlookers in formal attire.

I tear open the driver’s door, throwing myself into the seat. The engine roars to life, and gravel spits from the tires as I accelerate. The garden gate swings open too slowly, forcing me to brake hard. I beep the horn, snarling at the wide-eyed guard who leaps aside to let me pass. Once I’m through the gate, I slam the accelerator to the floor.

My phone buzzes in the passenger seat—a flurry of calls or texts from my brothers, from the staff, from God knows who. I ignore them. The only thing that matters is finding Gianna.

Everything is overshadowed by the memory of her note.I refuse to do this to our child.A part of me wants to sob at the notion that she thinks I can’t protect her—can’t protect our child if there is one. Another part roars in savage denial. She’s wrong if she thinks I’ll let her vanish into thin air. She’s wrong if she thinks I won’t tear the city apart to bring her back. I’ll overturn every stone, break down every door, challenge anyone who stands in my way. The thought of her out there alone, believing she’s safer without me, is a knife twisting in my gut with every passing second.

I weave through traffic, horns blaring around me as I cut off a delivery truck. The city is a mosaic of busy intersections and midday bustle. My mind whips through possibilities: bus stations with their grimy benches, train stations where she could disappear onto any outbound line, rural roads on the outskirts of town where she might try to hitchhike from. Hotels with lax security. Women’s shelters with strict confidentiality policies. Underpasses where the desperate gather. Gianna is smart. She’s learned from me, from her father, from survival itself, absorbing lessons like a sponge even when we thought she wasn’t watching. She’s not the naive child Giovanni thinks she is. But the world is still dangerous, especially for a woman alone. Rival families might see her as a pawn to exploit. Random criminals might see her as a vulnerable target.

I will find her.

And if she truly is pregnant with our baby, then I’ll prove to her that the man who once wanted to own her is gone, replaced by a man who will do anything to keep her and that child safe. I barely know how, but I’ll figure it out. The alternative is losing her forever, losing them both, and that’s not an option.

The engine groans as I take a sharp turn, ignoring the squeal of tires and the outraged yell of a pedestrian. My phone leaps across the seat, displaying Niccolo’s name. I snatch it up and bark into the receiver, “Track the train station cameras. Check them all. If she’s on foot or took a bus, she might have shown up in a feed. I want every street corner monitored.”

“We’re on it, Lucky. Calm down before you crash. We’ll find her.”

But calm is impossible. My soul feels like it’s being ripped apart by guilt and fear. I end the call, tossing the phone back onto the passenger seat. A broken laugh rasps out of my throat. I was supposed to be the groom walking down the aisle to claim my bride. Instead, I’m chasing her like a madman through city streets, begging for one last chance to show her I’m not the monster she first met.

Headlights glare as I cut through an intersection. More curses from other drivers, more horns blaring. My chest aches from the tension. Each breath is a battle; each swirl of possibility is a fresh agony. She’s gone. The words burn, fanning a spark of desperation into a bonfire.

I speed on, ignoring the traffic lights that cycle from green to amber to red. If a cop tries to pull me over, it’ll be the least of their concerns. The city whips by in a smear of gray and asphalt, overshadowed by the pounding in my veins.

The taste of regret coats my tongue like acid, burning all the way down to my gut. If only I’d been gentler when she needed it most. If only I’d told her sooner that I was in love with her instead of hiding behind fear and vengeance. If only I’d recognized what we had before it slipped through my fingers.

But dwelling onif onlyswon’t bring her back. She’s out there, alone. Maybe frightened, maybe resolute, maybe both. My grip tightens on the steering wheel until my knuckles whiten.I’ll fix this.

Her letter tears through my brain:Don’t come looking for me.

But that’s exactly what I’m doing. Because I have to. Because the man I once was—the one who wanted to bend her to my will—is dead. The man driving this car is ready to face every demon, to bleed for her if I have to. And I hope to God she’ll let me prove it when I find her.

When, notif.

I speed onward, weaving between cars with reckless abandon. The city blocks peel away, but my resolve only intensifies. I don’t know where she is or where to go, but I drive everywhere, eyes scanning every direction. She’s out here. I will not let her slip out of my life. I will not let her stand alone against a world that wants to devour her. She thinks she’s saving herself by running away. She doesn’t realize I’d fight the entire world to keep her safe.

My heart pounds in a suffocating rhythm, each beat chanting her name. Gianna. Gianna. Gianna. Gianna.

My phone rings again. This time, I answer before a ring completes.

“Luc,” Dante’s voice crackles over the line, tense. “We’re pulling every camera feed. Sal’s men are on it, Niccolo’s calling in favors. We’ll find her.”

I exhale, nodding even though he can’t see me. “I’ll start with the bus depot. Then the trains. She might try an Uber or a taxi. Hell, maybe she’s hitchhiking.” The thought sends a shudder through me. She’s not naive, but it’s so damn easy for criminals to prey on women traveling alone.

Dante lowers his voice. “Giovanni’s stirring up trouble. He’s dancing on the ashes of this wedding and telling everyone your bride was so afraid of you that she ran away.”

A fresh pulse of fury stabs me, but I swallow it down. “Let him talk. He’s nothing to me. This is about Gianna.” Besides, his statements aren’t entirely wrong.

I slam the phone down on the passenger seat, knuckles aching from my grip on the wheel. Every block disappears behind me in a chaotic rush. My head throbs with a relentless litany:She left me, she’s pregnant, or maybe not, but she left me, I have to find her, have to show her I can be better…

A glimmer of bitterness coats my tongue, warring with bone-deep fear. If I fail, if she’s already hopped on a bus or found a ride out of Manhattan, she could vanish entirely. The heartbreak sets my jaw in iron resolution. No. I won’t fail. Even if it takes me across the state, across the country, I’ll track her down until I have her in my arms. Then I’ll hold her so tight she’ll never doubt the sincerity in my veins again.

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