33. Chapter 33
Chapter 33
R oman
Ivan wanted to spar, so we took off early to the No Name boxing gym. The place smelled like disinfectant and sweat, and it hummed with grunts and the clang of equipment.
As we faced off against each other, Ivan eyed me and shook his head in disgust. “You look fucking cheerful . Are you getting it regularly from the missus?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You jealous, Knox?”
“Hell, yes. You’re a bastard, yet you end up with a gem like Luna when you deserve someone manipulative and shallow like Marla.”
“That’s low, even for you, asshole.” Ivan’s digs put me in the right headspace to spar with him, and by the time we called it, we both had a few bruised ribs.
When I walked inside the house an hour later, the stillness seeped into my bones. Dusk had fallen, and dark shadows danced on the walls. Shaking off a strange foreboding, I glanced around for signs of Luna, calling out to her. Only silence greeted me. I walked into the kitchen and checked the back patio but didn’t spot her.
Over time, Luna had added plants and a few odd knickknacks that meant something only to us throughout our house. She’d also started using the stark, modern sculpture in the entryway that had cost me seven figures as a coat hook. My lip quirked when I noticed a black hoodie hanging on it.
Sometimes, she curled up on one of the loungers under a blanket with her headphones on, studying or reading. She had become one of my favorite views, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. I checked the garage and saw Luna’s car was gone. When I called her cell, it went straight to voicemail.
Then I dialed Milo. “Have you seen Luna today?”
“Yeah. Late this morning she brought me food and asked me about getting shot. But I haven’t seen her since. Everything okay?” he asked.
“I think so. She’s probably with one of the damn Spade cousins.”
Disconnecting, I pulled up the tracker locator and realized with rising dread it was in our bedroom. My fists clenched when I found her wedding band sitting next to the collar on my nightstand. Fuck. What had happened between this morning and now? We’d been slowly building a life together, and things had been so fucking good lately. She’d opened up to me, and she seemed happy and content here. So what made her run? The smell of her skin and the citrus body wash she used lingered in the air as I sucked in a long breath. She didn’t know the depths of my ruthlessness or obsession if she thought I’d let her just walk away.
My naughty little wife also didn’t know that I’d put tracking on her phone and car. Without an ounce of regret or guilt, I pulled up the app and saw she was at the apartment over the mortuary.
I considered texting her and telling her to stay put or face the consequences. It’d be the fair thing to do based on my mood. I pocketed her collar and ring and strode to my car. Fuck that. It seemed she still needed to learn she was mine . We’d do this the hard way then.