Page 113 of Emperor of Corruption

And Lyra is gone.

“How?” The word is barely a rasp that escapes me. I sink to the floor, in the center of the puddle of blood, uncaring that my tuxedo will be stained beyond drycleaning.

“20% of pregnancies don’t make it past the first trimester.” Locke’s voice is quiet, withdrawn, and most of allnervous. He knows I’m a ticking time bomb right now. I can go off at any moment, and when I explode, I will probably take down alotof people with me.

“I’m well aware.” My jaw clenches. I’m equally well aware that stress never bodes well for pregnancies at any stage, especially the earliest stages. And Lyra had a great deal of stress heaped on her at once—an unfortunate result of my mistake. “I’m asking how she gave you the slip.” I crane my neck up, glaring at Locke. “I’m asking where thefuckmy fiancée is.”

Locke’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I have a dozen men on it—”

“She has been gone forthree hours,” I hiss. “I don’t care how many people are searching for her—I care to find outwhere she fucking is.”

“I don’t know.” Locke’s gaze lowers to the ground. “If you want to take my life for my failure—”

“That’d be a waste of a resource. For now, you can keep your head, but that comes with the condition offinding my fucking womanbefore I lose what remains of my sanity.” I bare my teeth at Locke. “In case it’s unclear, there’s very little of it left.”

“Your people are crawling all airports and airstrips,” Locke says. “Lyra doesn’t have a car, and she doesn’t have the resourcefulness to steal one—”

“Underestimating her is the reason there’s now an article deeming me as the villain circulating.” I know without a doubt that the article was written by Lyra. Somehow, she managed to follow a trail ofbreadcrumbs and piece together a puzzle so convoluted it was nearly unsolvable. And she did all this under my nose, while I had 24/7 surveillance on her.

If her aim was to end our relationship, she went about it the wrong way. In fact, the article—no matter how infuriating—proves her worthiness. Nobody else could’ve done it; evenIcouldn’t have done it.

Unfortunately, it also putsmoretargets on her back. Neither Silas nor Carter were explicitly mentioned while she described the layers of the hostile takeover of Harbor & Hale Luxury Transit, but it was heavily implicated that I had help, and if people start digging, they’ll find out precisely who helped me.

Silas Cornell and Carter fucking Black.

Castell Luxury Group is Carter’s primarylegalbusiness. It’s his main source of on-the-books income. He has few concerns about his public image—it’s no skin off his back if people found out he built his company from the detritus of another—but if the IRS decides to take a very close look at his financials as a result of any public scandal, he’ll have a mess to clean up. One he’ll only be able to clean up by working my tenuous contacts in high places.

Which may be my only way of keeping Lyra safe if he discoversshe’sthe one who landed him in deep water.

Releasing the article anonymously was her smartest move. But it’s not foolproof. People will wonder, and smart people—such as Carter and Silas—will make assumptions.

I have no issue killing Silas; in fact, I crave doing just that. Iintendto kill him, slowly and painfully.

Carter, however, would be more trouble than he’s worth to kill.

A low chuckle escapes me. Lyra certainly knows how to make her exit with abang. When I get my hands on her, I’ll be sure to punish her for the many inconveniences she’s caused me.

“Find her,” I say darkly. “Immediately. I want her in my grasp. You have twenty-four hours before I start taking heads.”