Page 24

For the hundredth time, I glanced at my phone’s screen, expecting a notification that she’d at least responded to my texts. Over the last few hours, I’d left her a ton of messages and called her phone more than a couple of times. Yet there was no response whatsoever.

Did she hate me that much? Was I such a terrible person that she would so casually ignore all of my attempts to reach out to her?

She may be overwhelmed with guilt, given the outcome of our confrontation at the yacht party. But was that enough reason to ignore me? Or perhaps she was mad about the hidden camera I’d spied on her with.

This assumption was possible, especially because now, I couldn’t access the camera feed anymore. Clarice had destroyed it earlier on, leaving me blind and clueless as to anything concerning her.

Had I crossed a line when I planted that bug on the gift box? Perhaps she was so embarrassed that I watched her in her most private moment. That was more than enough reason for her to want to cut me off for good.

“Shit!” I mumbled under my breath, fingers rubbing my eyes.

Maybe revealing what I did hadn’t been such a great idea after all. I should have just kept my mouth shut.

“Damn it!” I cursed, a pang of vexation swelling up within me.

Reflexively, I rose off the couch in my living room and paced back and forth. I smoothed my hair backward with labored breaths as I struggled to control my rage.

The fact that I couldn’t get through to her was starting to upset me, and I seethed in silence. My blood boiled with anger, and my jaw tightened. A part of me blamed myself for this predicament, but there was little or nothing that I could do about it. Being ignored by the one person in the world who I wanted to speak with right now wasn’t in any way helping at all.

I lowered my head and typed in another text, my fingers rattling across the lit screen.

The least you can do is text back.

I hit the send button and tossed my phone on the couch.

While swiping a hand over my face, my heart paused for a minute, then sank into my stomach. “No,” I whispered to myself, trying to dispel the creepy thought slithering into my head.

What if something was wrong? There had been an attack on my life barely a few days ago, and whoever was responsible for that must have done their homework. I’d ordered a double security around Clarice, so she should be fine.

However, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was awfully wrong. If she was fine, she would have at least texted back with an arrogant or sassy reply. But she didn’t, and the silence was rather suspicious.

The more I tried to convince myself that she wasn’t in any sort of trouble, the more this feeling gnawed at me. I glanced at the wall clock and realized that it was a little past midnight. Perhaps she was asleep. That was a possibility, and it would explain why she hadn’t responded yet.

Still, the feeling lingered, and my instincts told me to take action. My instincts were never wrong, so it was in my best interest to obey. I grabbed my phone from the couch and dialed Alex’s number.

It rang on the other line, my patience growing thinner by the second.

And then, he answered, his voice deep and husky, “Boss.”

“Did you double the security at Clarice’s house?” I asked, going straight to the point.

“I did,” he said, sounding certain.

“Where is she now? Is she home?”

“She should be,” he said, a hint of skepticism lacing his tone.

“I don’t need assumptions right now, Alex. Where is she?” I demanded, my voice rising with anger.

“I’ll check in with the men assigned to her place, Boss,” he replied, his tone tinged with urgency.

As the call ended, I clenched my jaw, feeling the weight of this strange emotion overwhelming me. Was it fear? Was it a concern? Whatever the case, though, it wouldn’t stop gnawing, and I couldn’t sit idly by waiting for a response.

With quick paces, I snatched my car keys from the side stool and stormed out of the mansion. Once in my car, I shut the door, started the engine, and zoomed out of the compound.

While driving through the city in the dead of night, I would occasionally glance at my phone, expecting a text or a call from Alex. None came in. Driven by fear for her safety, I slammed on the accelerator, the speedometer needle climbing up to three digits.

Recklessly, I wove the car through the streets, my fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. All I could think about was getting to her house on time, and no fucking police vehicle better try to pull me over.

I exceeded the speed limit, driving through the night like fucking Vin Diesel. My face was a mask of concentration, my focus fixed on my destination. Up ahead, a small queue of cars halted, waiting for the lights to turn green. My jaw tightened, and instead of slowing down, I accelerated onward, my SUV speeding past them in a flash.

In no time, I swerved the car down her street, my eyes locked on her house up ahead. The sound of my tires screeching loudly pierced through the silence of the night as I brought the car to a halt outside her place.

I stepped out of the vehicle, and I rushed out, heading toward her front door with hasty steps. As I raised my hand to knock, I realized the door was slightly ajar.

Strange.

It didn’t matter how exhausted or distracted she was; Clarice would never leave her door unlocked, especially at this time of night.

A mix of fear, anger, and worry washed over me, and I burst into the building, yelling her name. “Clarice! Clarice!”

I halted in the living room, my chest heaving rapidly as I peered at the space for anything out of place. Then, my eyes fell on the bottle of wine perched on the coffee table. Beside was a half-filled glass, untouched. Instinctively, I rushed over there and discovered there were two glasses, but one was shattered on the floor.

There was no spilled wine around the shattered glass, meaning someone must have drunk it before it broke.

My sense of reasoning kicked in, and my brain started analyzing the situation. There was a bottle of wine on the table with two glasses, one empty and shattered, the other half-filled and definitely untouched. Clarice had a visitor, and whoever they were, they brought the wine. They drugged her.

My fingers clenched into fists, and my jaw tightened as my heart hammered in my chest. Confusion set in, and soon after, so did frustration. With a loud cry, I grabbed the bottle and hurled it at the wall, shattering the damn thing, its red liquid splattering across the floor.

“Fuccckkkk!” I bellowed, veins lining my forehead.

I threw my hands to my head, my mind running wild as my pulse spiked. Who could have done this?

I hadn’t thought deeply when my phone rang in my pocket. I reached for it and answered.

“Bad news, Boss,” Alex’s cold voice came through the phone’s speakers.

I already knew what bad news he had for me but that wasn’t the point at the moment.

“Who took her?” I asked through gritted teeth, anger simmering beneath the surface. “Tell me you found out who took her.”

“We did, sir,” he said, his tone dripping with a glint of disdain. “Clarice had a visitor tonight. A woman. We ran facial recognition, and we found a match.” He paused for a moment as if letting the words sink in.

“Goddammit, Alex, who the fuck was it?” I snapped, my voice rising above normal.

“Her name is Bella, sir. Bella Barlow,” he replied. “She’s Damon Barlow’s sister.”

My blood boiled at this revelation, and my body shuddered with anger. This was retaliation for what I did to her brother. She was drawing me out, trying to get my attention. Well, now she had it. Now she had my full attention, and I hoped that she was ready because I was coming for her.