Page 88

“Get me a name. An assassin.”
“West—”
I hang up, seething with anger.
If Dom won’t help, I’ll find someone who will. I refuse to lose her. Not to Giovanni, not to anyone.
By the time we arrive at my penthouse, I’m no closer to a solution.
The moment the elevator doors open, I call out, “Amelia?”
The silence that greets me is deafening.
“Amelia!” My heart pounds as I rush from room to room, searching for any sign of her. But the penthouse is empty. Only the clothes strewn across the bed give me a sign that this is her home.
She’s gone.
But not her engagement ring. That’s on the counter, atop a note.
My heart pounds against my ribcage as I pick it up.
West.
I’m sorry, I can’t take the risk of you being harmed.
I’ve lost everything I love in this world. I can’t let that happen to you.
This is the only way you’ll live.
Amelia x
“She’s gone,” I mutter, more to myself than to Jackson.
I pull out my phone, dialing Callum’s number with shaking fingers. It rings once, twice, three times before he picks up.
“Where the fuck are you?” I demand, not bothering with pleasantries.
“Mr. Davenport, I’m in the lobby,” Callum’s voice crackles through the phone.
“Why the fuck are you there?”
“I’m speaking with the concierge, checking if anyone’s been asking about you or Miss Amelia.”
My jaw clenches. “And?”
“Nothing suspicious so far, sir. I’m heading up now.”
“And while you’re in the elevator, try to remember the last time you saw Amelia, because she isn’t here,” I bark.
“Fuck!” he grumbles.
I disconnect the call.
I pace the living room, running a hand through my hair. The elevator dings, and Callum steps out, his face grim.
“When was the last time you saw her?” I yell.
Callum takes a deep breath. “Sir, I overheard Miss Amelia talking to her friend Carly earlier. She was...agitated. Telling her friend to get out of New York.”