Acquiring Analise (K&S Securities 2)

Before leaving the car lot I use the ladies' room to change out of the expensive yoga pants and light sweatshirt I had been wearing and put on my favorite pair of high waisted navy blue sailor shorts, polka dot halter top and wedge heels that make me feel confident and pretty. I may as well start my new life in an outfit that makes me feel happy. That’s the whole point of me leaving Las Vegas, right? Firmly setting my sunglasses back in place I tie my hair up into a high ponytail and force myself to lazily stroll to my newly purchased vehicle. I sure am glad that Vince taught me how to drive, even though it’s not my favorite thing to do.

Rolling down the windows to let the hot air swirl around me, I hit the freeway and head north. With any luck, no one will realize I’m gone until Xavier comes to carry me to his bed later tonight. I wonder how long he will look for me. Probably not for long, I think with a painful twinge behind my sternum. A man like Xavier won’t be pining for a runaway bride. The thought of him moving on hurts, but no one but me will ever know that as I drive away, tears are running down my cheeks and drying in the wind.

I’m going to miss those fuzzy moments in the dark, being held against his hard muscles, his powerful arms surrounding me. I’m going to miss all the things that I had hoped for, everything I wish we could have been.

Xavier

I have given Analise as much space as I can stand in the weeks that have passed since our wedding day. I can’t see her face without remembering how it looked, pale and pressed against the mattress, as her tears streaked mascara down her cheeks. It’s not something I will ever forget. I never want to forget. I deserve to remember every damn second of hurting her. I know that I don’t deserve her, but that doesn’t stop me from needing her near once I get back to the apartment every night. Sleeping with her sweet body in my arms the penance I have given myself for causing her pain.

Every day it’s the same thing, I get up so I can work on several ventures to continue to legitimize my branch of the family business. I don’t want any part of the things that my father and uncle have made their money with. So I’m up to my eyeballs in real estate development deals, as well as finding a space for a small boutique for Analise.

I know that she has always wanted to open a little shop that sells a variety of things for women. Clothing, books, bath stuff that no man knows anything about. She has always worked, ever since she came to live with her dad, babysitting, dog walking, everything she could until she was old enough to get a “real” job. It’s part of who she is and more than anything I want her to be happy and fulfilled. I know she must be bored half to death just hanging around the penthouse or going shopping. She never seems to bring anything home with her, so I’m actually not positive what she does all day. I just know that she goes out. I’ve been tempted to have someone follow her, but if I do that and she ever finds out, I know it will destroy any chance I have of her ever learning to trust me. The only thing that I do know is that she leaves the building mid-morning and returns in the late afternoon. Geno has been able to tell me that much, and that she usually calls for an Uber when she leaves.

Every night I come home, after spending my day holed up in my office and find her in whatever bed she is curled up in. I return her to our bed, where she belongs, and then stay awake as long as I can trying to get my fil

l of being in her presence. I swear that tonight I will wake her up and apologize for everything that happened, starting with our wedding night. I can't bear this distance between us anymore, not even for one more day. All I want is to make things right between us so she can learn to trust me and I can try to earn her love.

It’s not as late as it usually is when I get home. I’m hoping to find Analise awake so we can talk. Something between us has to give, and I’m willing for it to be my pride. I know that an apology is warranted and way past due. When I discovered a couple of hours ago that the reason I hadn’t heard from Geno already was because my phone was dead, I took it as a sign that today is the day and charged my phone and hurried through the rest of my work.

The penthouse apartment has four bedrooms. I have already checked the three that she has been rotating through every night in her quest to avoid mine. All of them are still made, not a single thing looks out of place. Not once in the last month have I found her in our room, even though I’d had hopes that she would start sleeping there once she realized that I was just going to carry her to bed with me every night. It’s not like she’s tried to stop me. She just tucks her face against my neck, allowing herself to be carried to where she belongs. My bed.

In those drowsy moments, she accepts me into her arms, filling me with so many emotions that I don’t exactly know how to process them. I want them to last forever, so I haven’t spoken a word during those quiet moments. I don’t want to ruin the peacefulness between us by saying the wrong thing and destroy the last shred of hope in my heart.

My heart pounds with frantic hope as I push open the door and enter our dark bedroom. Muted light from the hall illuminates the bed and my heart stops for a moment.

It is empty.

Where the fuck is she?

I'm on my phone before I leave the room, calling Vince. If anyone knows where she is it will be him, right? He’s her father. She is probably just down at his place watching a movie or something… except when Vince answers, he has no idea where she is. Call after call gets the same response. None of the guys have seen her. Tony was at the front of the building doing security this morning, and he said she left around ten, in an Uber, which is what she has been doing several times a week when she goes out.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him, she was carrying her purse and waved at him on her way out. No one saw her come back, so the best I can figure she has been missing at least twelve hours. I barely recognize myself as I race around the apartment, looking for any clues that she may have left that would indicate where she might have been heading. There is nothing. Not knowing what else to do, I call my best friend Grayson. He lives in a small apartment a couple of floors below me, as do all of the men who came with me from New York, so it doesn’t take him long to get to me.

With Grayson’s assistance, we call everyone together and immediately get them all working on trying to locate her, pulling video from the security cameras, and calling in favors at a few other casinos to see if she was anywhere else today that would give us a clue. Geno doesn’t waste any time getting in touch with a few contacts he has in the few other families that are in Vegas, just to make sure that we haven’t overlooked anything. I can’t think of anyone who would want to take her to get to me, but it never hurts to check. The fact that I didn’t move to Vegas intending to step on anyone’s toes makes them more willing to share information. The only person who has a beef with me is Dominic, and it doesn’t take Geno long to determine that the likelihood of Dom being involved in Ana’s disappearance is minimal. A few of her things are missing, the book from the bedside table in the guest room, as well as her toothbrush and makeup. It looks as if she left of her own accord. But how and to where?

It doesn’t take long to get the information about her Uber ride, but it’s too late to do anything about it right now. It will have to wait until morning. Not that it matters. The hollow feeling in my chest tells me that she is gone. Taking the only sunshine I have known in too many years to count with her.

She’s left me, and I can’t even blame her. I would have left me too.

Her absence is a void, sucking away the slivers of warmth that she ignited inside me. She isn’t coming back, and she is much too smart for me to think finding her is going to be easy. It took me five long years to claim her as my own, and now that I’ve had a taste of her light in the bleakness of my life, I won’t stop until I have her back where she belongs.

Chapter Four

Ana

I'm so tired. I never have driven very much, there has never been a need. I’ve never even had my own car. As if the stress of running away and knowing that I will be completely alone when I finally stop isn’t bad enough, having to drive on the freeway has me feeling shaky and sick to my stomach. I’ve been on the road for so long that when I finally see an affordable roadside motel that doesn’t look too sketchy, I immediately put on my blinker and pull into the half-full parking lot.

I’ve never stayed in a hotel alone, so I have to admit that when I go inside to book a room, I’m more than a little nervous. I’ve been making up different stories most of the day in preparation for this moment. I know that I need a valid reason to pay with cash. I’m grateful when the bored-looking clerk buys my story about having my purse stolen in Las Vegas and makes an exception to the credit card rule.

After getting my room key, I ask directions to a drug store. I have things that need to be done before I go any further from Vegas. A drive through burger and a box of temporary hair color accompany me back to the simple room that I rented for the night.

I obviously have to change the way I look, and my hair is the most obvious way to do that. I try not to cry when I use the cheap scissors that I bought to cut off my long ponytail in one hard SNIP, but I can’t stop the tears. I loved my hair. It is a bright silvery blonde that fell past the middle of my back in natural waves. I personally think it’s my best feature and I hate seeing the shimmery strands as they fall to the floor. I know it has to go. If Xavier searches for me, he will be looking for a very blond woman. No one will be able to remember seeing me if that girl isn’t who they see.

Scrunching up my nose at the jagged line of my new haircut as it brushes against my jaw in an uneven bob, I use the dye I purchased to turn it a shade called dark chocolate. I hate the color, almost as much as I love its namesake, as soon as I rinse it into the tub. One glance into the mirror shows me that I barely resemble myself anymore. That is the point, I remind myself sternly, as I pull on fresh underwear and sadly crawl between the cold sheets. I try to blame the tears coursing down my cheeks on vanity and the ghastly clash between my porcelain skin and my new dark hair, but I know I’m lying to myself.

I shiver a little under the thin blanket and consider getting up to adjust the heat or to put more clothes on, but decide against it. It’s too much effort. I finally admit to myself that what is actually wrong is that I’m missing Xavier's warmth beside me. I went and let myself get used to sleeping cuddled against him.

“Well, suck it up, buttercup.” With a small, sad giggle, I whisper the words my mom always said when I didn’t want to do something, “this is just how it’s gotta be.”