ADRIK
Emery has been gone for ten minutes.
She looked out of it the moment we got down to dinner. She was pale and distracted. I chalked it up to Isabella being sick and the long day, but I’m starting to get suspicious.
“Should we be worried?” Yasha asks, checking his watch. “Your wife has been gone for a while.”
“I don’t keep tabs on her,” I snap.
Yasha snorts. “Who are you trying to fool? You keep tabs on everyone. Big Brother is always watching.” He looks dramatically around the room, searching for cameras. As if I’d make them obvious enough to be spotted.
He’s so careless, so innocent. He doesn’t know how it feels to have the lives of others in your hands. Emery, Isabella, Yasha, every single one of my men and their families, my enemies and their families—it’s a list that spirals out into infinity.
And I have to be aware of all of it.
Yasha should know that better than anyone. I look out for him as much as anyone, and for good reason.
Because once upon a time, when Big Brother wasn’t watching, a monster crept in.
Veronika elbows Yasha and scowls at him, then turns to smile at me. “If Isabella isn’t feeling well, we can reschedule.”
“Isabella was a regular Chatty Cathy,” Yasha says. “Emery is probably worrying over nothing, right, Adrik?”
“She was at the hospital earlier this afternoon,” I explain. Veronika’s eyes widen, but I wave her off. “It was a bladder infection. She has antibiotics, but the whole ordeal shook Emery up. She’s probably just checking on her.”
Veronika turns to Yasha. “Did you know about this? I would have rescheduled if I knew.”
“And I would have rescheduled if it was necessary,” I cut in. “Emery is excited to meet both of you.”
“Told her all about me?” Yasha teases.
He has no idea exactly how much I’ve told her. Yasha doesn’t like to talk about his past. I understand why. Many people would view what happened to him as a weakness, a character flaw.
“I’ve told her enough,” I say vaguely. “Maybe that’s why she took off. She probably saw all she needed to see.”
Yasha cackles and drapes his arm over the back of Veronika’s chair. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt tonight. I can see the mark on the inside of his arm.
The scar has stretched as he’s grown. When he first got it—when I first gave it to him, rather—it was a small, thin slit, barely visible. Now, it’s more knotted, gnarled like the root of a tree.
My chest churns with the kind of emotions I normally keep under lock and key. Children are so fucking innocent. I’ve done a lot of things to a lot of people, but only a monster would hurt a child.
And Pietro Volandri is a monster.
Even now, ten years later, my hand tightens around my glass at the thought of him. I have to force myself to let it go before I shatter it.
I clear my throat and sit back in my chair, trying to shake off the dark cloud hanging over my head.
I wish Emery would hurry up and come back. When she’s around, it’s easier to forget all of the bullshit in my head. The day we were on our honeymoon was the first time in over a decade that I’ve felt at peace.
Being don is what I was born for. It’s what I’ve worked my entire life for. But everyone needs a respite.
Somehow, Emery has become mine.
I glance at the door. When I do, Yasha whistles. “No fucking way.”
“What?”
“You’re into her,” he says.
I frown. “Do you mean Emery?”
“No, I’m talking about the house cat.” He rolls his eyes. “Yes, of course I mean Emery. You actually like her.”
“What’s so strange about that?” Veronika says. “She’s his wife.”
“That does not mean a damn thing.” When Veronika promptly whacks him in the back of the head, Yasha holds up his hands in surrender. “I like my wife, obviously. Because she is a true delight in every way, and my life is infinitely blessed by her presence.”
Veronika lifts her chin. “Thank you. That’s better.”
“But,” Yasha continues, “I didn’t think Adrik would go the traditional route. Especially not with Dad’s stipulation. And yet here we are. How did that happen?”
I roll my eyes. “Let’s not make a thing of it.”
“Too late. It’s a thing,” Yasha says. “You’re in love with your wife.”
“Leave him alone,” Veronika snaps. “You’re being an ass.”
Yasha leans forward, that wild grin raging on his face. “I’m just saying—”
“Well, don’t,” I interrupt in a feral growl that even Yasha knows means to shut up.
I stand and push my chair away from the table. “I’m going to go find Emery and bring her back.”
Before I can even take a step, the dining room doors open.
“Or perhaps there she—” I turn and see Stefan standing there. Not Emery. His brow is creased, his eyes dark and set on me.
Something is wrong.
“What is it?” I demand.
My first thought is Isabella. She took a turn for the worse. She’s sick again. We need to take her to the hospital.
Or maybe Emery is sick. Maybe that’s why she looked so out of it.
Or maybe—
“They’re gone.”
I blink in surprise for a moment. “What the fuck do you mean they’re gone?” I spit. “Who took them?”
Since Emery and Isabella moved in, I’ve placed more cameras around the perimeter of the compound. I’ve had my spies gathering as much intel as possible on the Volandris and their movements. This place is a fucking fortress.
Or so I thought.
Stefan shakes his head. “No, I mean, it’s not—No one took them. Emery left. On her own.”
I hear Yasha’s chair scrape across the floor as he stands up. “What’s going on, Adrik?”
Stefan sighs and rubs his temples. “I had guys stationed at the gates, but it was shift change and she was in your car. They waved her through without checking in.”
With a roar, I turn, grab my chair, raise it up over my head, and smash it down on the hardwood floor. It bursts into tinder immediately, shards of wood ricocheting in every direction. The crack echoes throughout the dining room like thunder.
Then, without another word, I turn and storm out of the room.