“I don’t fucking know or care,” I said. “All I know is that my wife is alive and I need your help.”
“Noted.” He sighed. “You know Tyran and I will do anything.”
“I need you to look into all the women at last night’s show. Figure out where Raven is hiding. Then stay on her.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes. And keep it just between us. I don’t want anyone else catching wind of this.”
“Done.”
I hung up and sent a message to Ghost.
Me: Sending you a photo. I need a detailed report of everything this woman has done, places she’s been… everything… for the past five years. Whatever the cost.
If anyone was up to the task, it was Kingston.
The answer was immediate.
Ghost: On it.
I dropped the phone onto the bed, then my head into my hands.
It had taken me years to resign myself to a life without her, but now that I knew she was alive, I refused to contemplate a life without her ever again. She was mine, and if I needed to, I really would lock her up in a tower and throw away the key.
A cold smile curved my lips.
I’d use whatever leverage was necessary.
If she thought she could just vanish again, she was wrong. I’d find her, bring her back, and make damn sure she understood she belonged to me.
Forever, this time.
TWENTY-EIGHT
RAVEN
Weeks had passed, and just when I was starting to convince myself that my husband had likely decided to leave me for dead, I spotted the Callahan twins at the Red Dog.
I hadn’t seen them in years, but as soon as our eyes met, I felt a jolt of recognition. However, to my surprise, there was none in theirs. They looked right past me, their faces betraying no hint of acknowledgment.
And for a moment, I wondered if it was all just a coincidence.
After all, the Red Dog wasn’t one of our usual hangouts. It was a seedy bar, made even seedier by its patrons, who engaged in frequent brawls. Our regular spot had been closed—a local sushi restaurant—for the day. This seemed the viable option just for this one time, and this place was just a few blocks from our apartment.
Maybe it was a fluke, a brief overlap of worlds, but the feeling that something was off gnawed at me. Neither twin struck me as someone who forgot a face.
We were crammed into a peeling vinyl booth, the bartender shooting us glares every time we ordered another round of hideously expensive margaritas.
I was relaxing with each sip.
“I can’t believe Dante brought you here, of all places,” Isla muttered, glancing around. “I mean, it’s fine for a friends’ hangout or to watch a game, but not for a date.”
Isla, who was now happily married to Enrico Marchetti and thought him to be the smoothest operator on earth, believed everyone deserved a Prince Charming. Of course, she was choosing to ignore the fact that her Italian man had kidnapped her and forced her to marry him, all on account of the amazing orgasms the man apparently offered.
“Please, can we not talk about Dante Leone or my upcoming engagement? I don’t want to barf all over the table.” Reina wasn’t joking.
“Is Phoenix okay?” I blurted. I’d noticed ever since Reina announced her engagement, her sister had withdrawn. I didn’t know what was bothering her, but I was worried for her.