Page 61 of House of Lies
“Track her down, Domenico. Bring her back. Unharmed,” I stress out. “Touch a single hair on her head, and you’re fucking dead.”
“Understood, sir.”
I’m so exhausted. I lie down on the couch, aware that I won’t be able to close an eye. I still have to try. The only way to bring her back to me is with a clear head, and I’m not doing myself any favors now.
CHAPTER 37
Caelia
I never reach Atlanta. I stop in North Carolina. I’m too paranoid to stop at a hotel and rest. I have to keep going. So, I took another bus heading to Kentucky. I bought a book from the station, but my mind is too consumed to focus. I repeatedly reread the same paragraph, wondering if Mattia is still alive. And if he is, has he begun hunting me yet? Will I ever see him again? I consider the possibility of completely losing my mind when I wonder if I can ever come up with an excuse good enough for what I did. However, deep down, I know Mattia already understands why I did what I did. He was never delusional, and I warned him. I lied to him. I lied to myself.
I gaze out the window as the bus carries me farther away from him, mile by mile. I shouldn’t feel this discouraged. So damn exhausted and mournful. I must buy a burner and call Cosima, but it is too soon. I’ll have to wait a little longer. Since I left, all I have done is stare at my reflection.
Tears are glistening on my cheeks, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m recalling the years of abuse I’ve suffered at his hands or because my feelings have shifted. I’ve been too trusting and naïve, believing things would eventually improve between us. Instead, Mattia has only grown more vicious and abusive with each passing day. He trapped me in an endless cycle of pain and suffering with no way out. Until he freed me from it. My heart aches as I reflect on all the opportunities I have missed because of him. I could not pursue my dreams, and my life has become a never-ending nightmare. I don’t even remember what I used to love before him.
I have no one else to lie to or to listen to my poisonous lies anymore, so I’m forced to face the truth again. I’m scared and alone. I have no family or close friends to turn to, and I’m afraid I will never be able to escape Mattia’s grasp. I’m free and on the run, but I feel trapped again. I have no idea what the future holds for me. I wish I could turn back time.
I should feel in control of my life. For the first time, I have a chance to decide my future. That is, until Mattia catches up with me. And if he’s alive, I do not doubt that he will, eventually. It is not a matter of if, but when.
CHAPTER 38
Kaz
I’m losing my fucking mind. How hard is it to find a woman on the run who doesn’t have anyone’s help? Apparently, it’s fucking impossible when that woman is Caelia, and she doesn’t want to be found. I should have told her the truth. I had countless occasions to do so. She’s on the run, and I could have prevented this. I’m healing painfully slowly. There’s no one I can trust. My home doesn’t feel like what it used to be. It’s just an empty mansion, but now I’m sitting on a black leather couch in a private room of one of my clubs, a glass of whiskey in my hands. The lights are too dim, the music is too loud, and there is a chaotic atmosphere all around me. The walls are painted a deep red, and through the one-way mirror glass, I can see people dancing on the floor below, lost in the rhythm.
“Deal with the cartel problem,” I tell Dmitri now that the Irish are gone. “Kill all the men that have been working closely with my uncle. I’ll fly back to New York tomorrow morning.”
A woman does a pool dance in front of me. She moves with a trained grace that I would have found captivating and seductive a while ago. Her long blonde hair is pulled back into a bun, and her curves are accentuated by a tight black dress. The Irish were captivated by her sensual and powerful moves. They love Russian pussy. They watched her in awe as she moved on to the music, her body swaying like a wave in the ocean. I have been asked if she’s for rent. But that decision is hers, not mine. I use my clubs for money laundry, not for escort services. However, I don’t prevent my girls from earning money on the side if they choose to do so. There are other dancers on the floor beneath us. Spinning and twirling, some dancing in pairs, their bodies interlocked.
Talking of spinning, I realize I’ve been turning the wedding ring on my finger. It’s a souvenir I stole from Mattia when I became him, and now I can’t bring myself to remove it.
I might be the only man not captivated by the dancer’s beauty, yet all she has eyes for is me. Her movements become more wild and inviting, her eyes focusing entirely on me. The air is thick. I can almost feel the heat radiating from her body. I bet her pussy would be wet and so tight, stretching around my cock. I bet she would be a most welcome distraction. Her moves stop when the song comes to an end. She’s brave enough to walk toward me, kneeling between my thighs and placing her palms on my knees. I didn’t even want to be here, but I had no choice but to come back home and deal with the mess my uncle had created before it was too late, and Ermanno’s empire wouldn’t be the only one in ashes.
“??? ? ???? ??????? ??? ???, ????” She asks, her voice laced with anticipation.
I contemplate my answer for a second. Is there anything she can do for me? Would this slippery road make me feel any better? Those lips would look good wrapped around my cock. Not as good as Caelia’s, but good enough. I don’t even have to look at her. I could close my eyes and imagine that she was here.
“???, ?????.”
The look of disappointment makes me grin. Fuck, it’s good to be home. She’s a clever woman. She doesn’t push me any further. I wave my hand dismissively, silently urging her to leave.
“Any luck finding Sevastyan?”
My uncle vanished as soon as I returned home, just like Mattia. My men have been deceived in the same manner as me. Sevastyan moved Mattia from one location to another, and they never questioned it. They had no reason to.
Dmitri enters the room, wearing a somber expression.
“What’s wrong?”
I swish the whiskey around in my glass, awaiting his response.
“Ivan is here to see you, sir.”
“Let him see me, then.”
Surely, he has a compelling reason to visit, knowing that coming here is akin to signing his death warrant. Domenico nods and exits the room.
“Do we know where Caelia is, Dmitri?” I ask, already aware of the answer.