I don’t see it coming.
I don’t hear the footsteps.
But I feel the hand cover my mouth.
I feel the needle prick the side of my neck.
I smell the masculine cologne engulf my senses as my eyes, against my will, close.
Chapter Thirty-Two
GIOVANNI
“It’s time for you to go. If you’re making me choose between Aria and this organization then I’m choosing her.”
My dad gives me a stunned look for a brief second before anger takes over his features. “This is not the son I raised. Letting a piece of pussy dictate your future. If you choose that girl over your family, you will regret it. She will regret it.”
I shove my dad up against the wall, my hand wrapping around his throat in the same way I did to the senator. “You want to threaten me? Go for it! But don’t you ever fucking threaten Aria. You got me?” My dad’s breathing begins to go erratic, his face turning a slight shade of red before I let him go. He bends at the waist to catch his breath.
“You aren’t thinking straight. I’m going to give you twenty-four hours to come to your senses.” He grabs the front of my shirt and yanks it to the side, exposing my tattoo. “Dalla nascita. Per sangue. Famiglia. Ricorda da dove proviene prima che sia troppo tardi.” Remember where you come from before it’s too late. He walks down the hall and out the door, slamming it behind him.
“Aria!” I shout her name, needing her in my arms. When she doesn’t answer, I go into the room but she’s not here. The bathroom is still fogged up from her shower but the room is empty. I check the other room, the living room, the terrace. No Aria. I pull my cell phone out and hit her name under my recent history. Her phone buzzes on the nightstand. I pick it up and type in her passcode. No calls or texts. I dial Johnny and after the second ring, he answers. “Where are you?”
“I’m down at the bar. Your dad asked me to give you guys some time alone.”
“Is Aria with you?”
“No… she was with you up in the room.”
“She’s gone. Her fucking phone is still here and she’s gone.” My heart begins to go crazy—something is wrong. “She might have run away again. My dad and I were arguing over her. If she overheard it, it might have upset her.”
“I’m heading to the security room now to check the footage.”
Johnny and I hang up and I check the hotel room one more time before calling my dad.
“Son, have you already come to your senses?”
“If you did something to her, I’ll kill you.”
“To who? Aria? I haven’t touched her.” I can hear the truth in his words. He doesn’t have her.
“She’s gone. Fuck!” I bark, hanging up on my dad.
My phone rings and it’s Johnny. “Any news?”
“I pulled up the feed. She walked through the lobby about thirty minutes ago toward the back, leading to the beach.” I hear his fingers furiously typing on a keyboard. “The camera ends at the beach. She headed north along the water.”
I hang up and run out the door, taking the stairs to the lobby, and head out back. When I get to the beach, it’s dark, only the moon shining over the water. I make a left and start jogging up the quiet beach. I come across a few couples taking a stroll and stop to ask if they’ve seen a brown-haired woman walking alone down the beach. Nobody has seen her. I jog for what seems like miles until I hit a restaurant. It’s closed down, but I walk up to it, looking for her. She’s nowhere. It’s like she’s disappeared.
I turn around and walk slower back toward the hotel. As I’m pulling my phone out of my pocket to check back in with Johnny, I spot bright pink flip-flops in the sand. Aria’s. I would recognize these anywhere. They match the sweatpants with the writing on her ass. I pick them up and look around. There’s no way she would have gone into the water. I look behind me and see a wooden walkway, so I head that way. Once I get to the end of it, there’s a small park with some restrooms and a parking lot. It’s after two in the morning so the place is deserted. I walk into both restrooms to see if she’s in there, but she’s not.
I dial Johnny’s number. “I found her flip-flops about a mile down. I’ve checked everywhere, Johnny. She’s not here.” Even I can hear the sheer panic in my voice conveying the thoughts I don’t want to speak out loud.
“All right, Boss. Meet me back here and we’ll regroup and make some calls. We’ll find her.”
I don’t respond, but the words are said in my silence. But what if it’s too late?