Chapter 27 Aiden
TWENTY-SEVEN
AIDEN
“Jesus Christ,” Kyran grumbled. “Did World War III start right here, in this shitty neighborhood?”
I stared at the wreckage that used to be Raven’s home in the distance, screeching to a stop and hitting the curb in the process.
“I doubt anything that important would happen here,” Tyran said, rolling his eyes. I exited the car, ignoring their bickering, while dread pooled in the pit of my stomach.
My brothers flanked me as I rushed down the street, approaching the chaos.
“I should have come with her,” I muttered to myself.
“Don’t stress,” Tyran said, staring at the scene with a furrowed brow. “I’m sure Raven and her mother are fine.”
Not even he believed his own words.
“Aiden…” My head slowly tilted in Kyran’s direction and I found doubt stamped across his expression. “You should know that Uncle Jack came to talk to your wife’s mother earlier.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
I stopped. “Why?”
He shrugged. “He wanted to welcome her to the family.”
I gripped him by the collar. “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner? He might have led our enemies here.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Tyran clasped my hand and squeezed. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
I shoved both of them away and rushed forward.
Chaos ruled every corner of this cul-de-sac. The shitty building was unrecognizable, its foundation tilting like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Remnants of wood flooring and furniture were stained black and grimy with smoke.
Police cruisers and ambulances crowded in, although judging by the sight, there wasn’t much left to salvage. Firefighters shouted, barking orders as they attempted to extinguish remaining flames.
The ringing in my ears reached fever pitch, and I walked forward almost as if surrounded by a fog. My insides were a mess, the terror inside me growing with each step I took.
My feet moved as I surveyed everyone around, expecting—hoping—to see Raven at any moment.
Why did I let her come alone? My mind chanted the question on repeat.
I should have known better. Fuck!
“Sir… Sir…” A short, stocky police officer came to stand in front of me, but when I just sidestepped him, he got in my face. “Do you live here, sir?”
“My wife…” Dammit. Two weeks ago, the idea of calling someone my wife was so fucking foreign. “My wife is here. I have to find her.”
“I’m sorry.” He grabbed my arm and yanked me back. His eyes darted behind me. “We might need you to identify… a body.”
Pain pierced through my chest while I stared at the bald spot on his head, the shrill ringing in my ears making it impossible to process his words. The guy was wrong.
Two paramedics carrying a stretcher covered by a white sheet appeared in my peripheral vision and my heart dropped to my feet. A slight tremor started in my limbs and stretched outward.
No, no, no.
It couldn’t fucking be.
I jolted awake, drenched in sweat, moisture burning my eyes.
That was the worst day of my life. I had to identify a charred, burnt-to-unrecognizable body with only one recognizable clue: the wedding ring on the blackened bone of my wife. Or who I thought was my wife.
I reached blindly across the sheets for Raven, but I found nothing but cold linen.
“Raven,” I called, my voice echoing through the Parisian penthouse I hardly ever used. Silence. The kind that pressed down on your chest until breathing hurt. “Raven!” I roared, the word cracking in two.
She fucking left. How dare she leave again?
My world tilted, much like it had that day I found nothing but ashes and charred remains after what investigators concluded was a gas leak or a faulty wiring. Bottom line, it was quite inconclusive.
Such a small thing that had erased an innocent life and started a five-year-long war with Duncan Lyons.
The man had blamed us for not alerting him to the presence of his family in New York City sooner.
In turn, Uncle Jack held Lyons accountable, claiming he and his men were at fault for having him followed.
And I… I fucking wanted to murder both of them.
She’s alive.
I had so many questions. But first, I had to devise a plan that would ensure Raven could never leave me again.
They said if you loved something, you should set it free. I had no idea who came up with that bullshit, but I disagreed wholeheartedly. If you loved something, you locked it the fuck up in the tallest tower so nobody could touch it or take it away.
And I fully intended to do that with Raven. There’d be no more running, no more disappearing, no more waking up to cold sheets and ghosts.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, grabbed my phone, and dialed my brother. It rang once.
“Yeah?” Kyran’s voice came through, groggy but alert.
“Raven is alive.”
Silence stretched, and then, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” I gritted out.
“Where are you? What happened to that fashion show Enrico Marchetti was hosting?”
“That’s where I saw her. In the fucking flesh.” I shoved my hand through my hair. “She came to the penthouse with me, but this morning… She fucking left.”
There was a pause. “And you’re sure it’s Raven?”
“For fuck’s sake, Kyran,” I ground out. “I’m sure. We spent the night together.”
I heard a rustle of movement on the other end. “Jesus Christ, whose body was found in the ashes, then?”
“I don’t fucking know or care,” I said. “All I know is that my wife is alive and I need your help.”
“Noted.” He sighed. “You know Tyran and I will do anything.”
“I need you to look into all the women at last night’s show. Figure out where Raven is hiding. Then stay on her.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes. And keep it just between us. I don’t want anyone else catching wind of this.”
“Done.”
I hung up and sent a message to Ghost.
Me: Sending you a photo. I need a detailed report of everything this woman has done, places she’s been… everything… for the past five years. Whatever the cost.
If anyone was up to the task, it was Kingston.
The answer was immediate.
Ghost: On it.
I dropped the phone onto the bed, then my head into my hands.
It had taken me years to resign myself to a life without her, but now that I knew she was alive, I refused to contemplate a life without her ever again. She was mine, and if I needed to, I really would lock her up in a tower and throw away the key.
A cold smile curved my lips.
I’d use whatever leverage was necessary.
If she thought she could just vanish again, she was wrong. I’d find her, bring her back, and make damn sure she understood she belonged to me.
Forever, this time.