Page 62 of Vow to Corrupt You
“We’re trying to figure that out.” He clears his throat. “She was supposed to finish her classes three hours ago.”
“Three hours, and you’re telling me about this now?” I feel a wave of heat rushing through my veins as I consider all the possible scenarios.
Three hours is enough for a motherfucker like Castro to kidnap her, take her out of the country, fulfill his threats, and kill her. Now my blood runs cold. I remember the threat from the filthy note he left me.
“Locate her,” my tone drawls darkly through the empty hallway.
“We’ve tried, but we can’t. It seems the signal is blocked.”
My palm clenches around my phone so hard, I wouldn’t be surprised if the screen cracks.
“She better be safe and sound because if a fucking hair is harmed on her head, I’ll skin each one of you and choke you on your own flesh.” I hang up and rush outside. “Tell everyone that the meeting is over,” I say to the receptionist on my way out.
The engine roars as I speed up the highway, overtaking every car like a madman. This is what she does to me. She drives me insane. My teeth graze my lip, hand gripping the steering wheel. Chiara. She was supposed to give her a lift, and they’re literally inseparable. If anyone knows something, it’s her. I dial her number since I copied all the contacts from Serena’s phone into mine. Twisted? Possessive? I’d say protective.
“Hello?” Chiara rumbles through the speaker of my car’s audio system. Clearly tipsy. The music and people’s chatter in the background muffle her voice.
“Chiara,” my voice comes out low and heavy. “It’s Nikos Romano.”
I hear her cough as if she choked for a fraction. “How do you have my… never mind. Why are you calling?”
“Is my wife with you?” I go rigid, hoping she’d say she’s there, hiding from me, or wanting to run away from me. Anything is better than her being taken by Castro.
She clears her throat, “She’s here.”
Thank fucking God.
The tension releases, giving way to anger. Serena doesn’t seem to realize the world she lives in now. How dangerous it is, and if she thinks I am her worst threat, she’s fucking wrong. Only someone as dangerous as I am can save her from worse things.
“Is she safe? You have eyes on her?” My jaw clenches.
“Of course.” I could almost imagine her squint. “And with all due respect, Mr. Romano, I do hope you won’t be an asshole to her for wanting to have a taste of normal life.”
Bold to call me an asshole when I’m literally about to lose my mind because my wife wants to have a taste of ordinary life.
“Her life is anything but normal now, whether she likes it or not. You have no idea the danger she could be in.” I try to keep my composure. “Give her the phone.”
“Last time I checked, I’m neither your soldier nor your servant. Please would be nice.”
She’s fucking drunk. Not tipsy. Wasted.
My hand clenches the steering wheel again, and a deep breath draws in my lungs.
I look at the tracking app; the advantages of having access to the newest technologies. As soon as Chiara picked up, I had her location on my screen. I take a turn to get there. They’re close. If I keep driving at this pace, I’ll get there in ten minutes. Ten more fucking minutes of torture. Whatever sneaked into the innocent head of my wife won’t go without punishment. I’ll have to punish her for going against the rules and disobeying my orders, my will. I don’t like not having control, and Serena… she’s so fucking resistant to any sort of control. One would think a shy girl like her would be easy to handle. She’s fucking gasoline to my fire. My fucking kryptonite.
“Please,” I force the word out, teeth barely parting.
The things Serena pushes me to do. I do not fucking ask, I demand. Command. But one thing I know is there’s no reason to fight a wasted person. Let alone a woman defending another woman. That’s an entirely different kind of force that could ignite a firestorm I do not have the time to deal with now.
“Wow, did I just bend the most unyielding man in the country?” she pauses momentarily as if impressed by her achievement.
Serena has bent me, and she’ll get punished for that. The list of her misdeeds is growing.
“Chiara, trust me, you don’t want to fucking play games with me.” My patience is wearing thin. “Give my wife the fucking phone.”
“But, she’s…” I hear a hint of panic in her voice, followed by a brief pause, that fills me with dread.
“What?” I urge. Seven minutes, I’ll be there in seven fucking minutes.
