Page 5 of His Wife

Isaia looks up from the monitor and follows my gaze. “It’s getting taken down today.”

“Good,” I snarl and take a seat across from him. “Find anything?”

Nicoli and Caelian flank me, and Maximo slips in behind Isaia, staring at whatever is on the monitor.

“I can’t find the location, man. I’ve been trying to trace it and see where the motherfucker disabled our cameras from. But I can’t find shit!” He throws the mouse across the room, the little computer accessory exploding into pieces along with Isaia’s frustration.

“Dude, relax,” Nicoli says. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t need sleep. I just need to figure out how this fucker got past all our security, fucked with our cameras, and killed one of our girls.”

“I still think we should close the club,” Maximo says, rubbing his fingers along his beard, which seems longer than usual, his hair unkempt. It seems this entire situation is fucking with all of us, our lives coming to a complete standstill.

“No.” I stretch my legs out in front of me. “The last thing we want is for word of this to get out and discredit the business we run here. We were lucky the security who found Tarina had half a brain not to rush down the hall screaming murder. We need to contain this at all costs.”

“The girls are asking questions, man. They want to know where Tarina is.” Maximo crosses his arms.

“My God.” I leap up from my seat. “Tell them Tarina took a goddamn holiday, or she ran away and decided to become a waitress in fucking Jamaica. I don’t care,” I spit out. “We are not closing this club. We are not giving anyone any reason to question our reign in this motherfucking kingdom.” My voice slams against the walls, my anger ricocheting off every word. “I am not going to let one sick fucker destroy our reputation, our legacy, and everything our family has built over the last goddamn fifty years, is that understood?”

Everyone’s eyes remain on mine, no one making a move or sound except for Nicoli as he gets up. “I agree. Alexius is right. Whoever this sick fuck is, he’s trying to rattle our cage, hoping we’d crack, and that isn’t happening. We triple the security if we have to. Quadruple it. But we are not cowering away by shutting everything down.”

“What if this asshole strikes again?” Caelian asks before lighting a cigarette. “Clearly, this son of a bitch knows how to get past our security and into our clubs undetected. He could just walk in here tomorrow and butcher another—”

“Wait. That’s it.” I stiffen, a giant motherfucking lightbulb going on inside my brain. “That has to be how he got in.”

Maximo lowers a brow. “How?”

“He’s a member. A regular. Someone who has been inside our clubs and knows how we do things, the level of security we have.” I glance at Caelian playing with the cap of his Zippo lighter. “That’s how this fucker is fingering us, because he knows us.”

ChapterThree

LEANDRA

“Ican’t decide. You pick one.” Mira carefully lays two pieces of fabric side-by-side out on Alexius’s desk, her brow furrowed as she studies them. “I mean, the ivory satin is so classic and romantic. But the champagne silk is exquisite. So elegant. My God, this is so hard.” She uses her palm to fan out the fabric, her indecisiveness evident in the way she tilts her head and purses her red lips. “What do you think?”

We’ve been going through tablecloth fabric samples since we locked ourselves in here hours ago. The anniversary party is tomorrow night and Mira woke up this morning doubting every choice she’s made, from the table setting to flowers. Everything. This is the closest I’ve seen her come to a mental breakdown.

I pick up two different sets of beige napkins. “I guess it depends on which napkin you choose. Timeless beige or Jasmine white?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Timeless beige. Not only is the name romantic, but the shade is also perfect to go with the peach roses.” She takes the napkin from me, and her entire face lights up. “Oh, my God, yes. The champagne silk with these napkins will scream elegant romance without looking boring. Leandra, you are a genius.”

I smile. “When you’re unsure about anything, start with the things you’re absolutely sure about and let your decisions flow from there.”

Mira places the napkin and tablecloth together, taking a step back to get a better look. “The aesthetics are perfect. Now,” she turns to look at the array of crystal vases set out on the table across the room when I place a simple, long-stemmed crystal vase above the flowing tablecloth and napkin set we’d chosen, setting it down gently. Mira’s plump lips curve into a warm smile, and she claps her hands in approval. “I love it. Oh, it’s going to be so romantic. I’m already crying.”

I place an arm around her shoulder and squeeze. “It’s going to be perfect.”

“I hope so. I want this night to be everything and more for them. They’ve been so generous and kind, taking Maximo and me in and raising us as their own. I can’t imagine what would have happened to my us if it hadn’t been for them.” A rogue tear slides down her cheek, and she quickly swipes it away with her finger. “I still get nightmares of that night.”

“The night your parents were murdered?”

She nods. “And my oldest brother, Marco. Sometimes I know I’m dreaming, know I’m caught up in the nightmare. Other nights I wake up in cold sweats crying, the dream so vivid, I’m still stuck in that room with my parents’ bloodied bodies even after I wake up. She still checks on me some nights, Alexius’ mother.” Mira tightens her arms in front of her. “She’ll quietly walk into my room and place a kiss at my temple. Most of the time, I pretend to be asleep because I know it’s comforting for her, too, in a way.”

“I’m so happy you had them to take care of you.”

Mira glances at me. “You had no one.” Her voice sounds pained, and it reflects in her eyes. “You had no one to take care of you.”

I ease back and clutch my hands in front of me as I walk toward the office window. The morning started with clear skies, but clouds have since been carried by the howling wind, now casting shadows across the garden. “I survived, and that’s all that matters, right?”

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