Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Dimitri
I’M NURSING MY third whiskey when I hear Mr. Cipriano sneer, “Where the hell is Savina? We were supposed to start fifteen minutes ago!”
Her stepmother stands and says, “I’ll go check.”
I hear her high heels clicking slowly, methodically along the hardwood floor as she ventures down the hall. A few minutes later, Cosette reemerges, and they are clicking in double-time as she shrieks, “Savina is gone!”
My heart skips a beat inside of my chest at her words. Fumbling for my cell phone, I unlock it and quickly bring up the tracking app. It says Savina’s phone is still here in this building, so where is she?
Adrenaline has my feet carrying me swiftly down the hall to the women’s dressing room. I find her phone within a few seconds, along with her purse and belongings. A feeling of dread washes over me. Savina wouldn’t just leave everything here, would she?
I think back to our argument an hour earlier.
Savina thought I was using her, and I didn’t deny it.
I let her draw her own conclusions about me rather than telling her the truth about how I really feel.
She was going to tell me she loved me. Savina fucking loves me.
And I pushed her away, because I’m a fucking coward.
That look on her face, the last look she gave me; it will haunt me until my dying breath.
Savina had left in a hurry after that, and the last thing I remember is seeing her running down the hall with Darby close behind.
Darby.
Did she go somewhere with Darby? Did they leave the state, the fucking country?
I squeeze my phone in my hand until I hear an audible crack.
Fuck, not knowing where Savina is right now is going to drive me insane.
That was the whole point of putting a tracker on her phone.
But I never thought of what I’d do if she left it behind.
Why would she not take her phone with her? That just doesn’t make sense, unless…
Running my hand through my hair, I pull on the ends in frustration. When my father enters the room, questions lingering in his eyes, I tell him, “We need to talk to everyone here. See if anyone saw or heard anything.”
“Do you think Savina was taken?” he asks, as if reading my mind.
“Anything is possible,” I respond. “But I’d rather be a hundred percent sure than second guessing all of this.”
I take Savina’s things with me, holding onto her purse like a lifeline and regretting the past few hours of my life. If only I had told her the truth, she wouldn’t have run. This is all my fault.