Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 106292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I’m just about to tell him just how fucking right he is when guilt flashes in his eyes, leaving just as quickly as it had come. “Right,” I mutter. “If you really believe that, then be my guest. Go ahead and take her out.”
Cross clenches his jaw, his stare hardening with hesitation and unease. “You’re full of shit,” he mutters, striding past me to put this conversation to bed.
I watch as he walks away, heading off in the direction of Oakley’s room, probably needing her to stroke his ego back to health. When he disappears around the corner, I glance toward the dining table and press my lips into a hard line. It fucking irks me when people leave their discarded food on the table. How fucking hard is it to put it away?
Knowing damn well Oakley would have left it here just to get under my skin and that she’s not about to come out here and clean it up, I stride over to grab the silver tray and find myself peering down at it. My brows furrowed as I take it all in.
Something isn’t right.
Her Diet Coke is untouched, which is unheard of with Oakley. She sucks that shit back like it’s an elixir of life. But what really gets me is the clean plate. It looks as though it’s still fresh out of the dishwasher. Not a single crumb with the knife and fork still perfectly laying on either side of the plate.
Unease rocks through me when Cross appears from around the corner, that same unease flashing in his dark stare. “She’s not in her room.”
“She never had lunch,” I rumble, my gaze shifting around my penthouse, checking for any hint or clue as to where she could be.
We snap into action.
“I’ll check the roof,” he says, already slamming his hand over the call button for the elevator as my hand flies under the table and grips the gun from its hiding position. The feel of the cool metal in my hand is like a fucking lifeline, sending power blasting through my veins, not that I need it. I could end someone’s life with as little as a flick of my wrist. However, there’s no denying a simple bullet makes my life a shitload easier.
My heart races as I fly through my home, checking behind every door and going as far as barging into her private bathroom, but she’s nowhere to be found.
I check my bar, my room, Dalton’s, and Sawyer’s room, and even make sure she isn’t lying dead on my floor after some emergency we missed. But again, I come up blank.
I clench my jaw, frustration burning through me. Where the fuck could she have gone? Oakley gets on my nerves, and she’s slipped out of my hold on occasion, but more times than not, I knew where she was. When she followed us into the tunnels of Empire, I listened to every fucking step she took as they softly echoed through the long tunnel, making sure she was still breathing. There’s only been one time where she’s managed to get away, and when she did, she almost ended up a victim to Nikolai’s blade.
She’s a lamb—a sacrificial lamb—but a lamb all the same. No matter how strong she thinks she is or how well she believes she could handle Empire’s wrath, she’ll never make it on her own. She’ll be dead in seconds.
The only question is whether she slipped out on her own, if she saw her shot and took it, or if some asshole came into my home, into my territory, and took her from me.
Anger burns through my veins, rage claiming my every thought. Oakley Quinn is a lot of things. She’s frustrating and unpredictable, but she’s not fucking stupid. There have been more than enough attempts on her life for her to know the only protection she’ll ever have is here with me and the boys. If only she knew what I really wanted with her, then she’d be out of here in the blink of an eye. But there’s nowhere she could go where I wouldn’t find her. Once I have her back, there will be hell to pay. Though, I don’t believe that’s what’s happened here.
She’s been taken from me. My sacrifice, my one shot at rising in power, taken from me.
Whoever did this will feel the full extent of my wrath. No one steals from me without paying with their lives, and if I find her with her heart already dead and cold . . . well, shit. All hell will break loose.
Storming out into my living room and through my kitchen, I tear open the door of my butler’s pantry, walking into the space I have converted into my weapons room. I start loading up, checking guns, and making sure every fucking one of my blades sparkle.