Chapter 4
FOUR
Caelian
“C, you’ve got to calm down,” Ms. Poitier says. “All this rage isn’t good for your condition.”
“Fuck my condition!” I roar like a beast. My arms swing before my mind produces its next thought. I smash everything on the war-planning table to the ground. The maps and ammunition tumble to the floor as several people jump back in alarm.
They know better than to have any other reaction.
Nobody, not even Ms. Poitier, utters a word.
Tense silence holds the room captive as they stand frozen with bated breath.
It’s on my timetable—when my temper explodes, it’s up to me when things can resume as planned. The worst thing any of them could do would be to interrupt me during one of these moments.
My rage turns me into an animal. I’m a hulking, seething beast as I glare around the room and stalk over to the window.
Two of my saldatos stumble over their feet trying to get out of my way. One of them loses his balance and falls flat on his ass. But it’s better than remain in my path and incur my instant wrath.
I plod over to the window and peer out at the acres of woodsy terrain surrounding my property. The trees stretch on for miles and miles, so far that it would be impossible to traverse on foot. You’d die of dehydration and exhaustion if the arctic winter temperatures didn’t get you first.
Yet mia ballerina made it.
She left me in the middle of the fucking night and must’ve survived.
I’d sense if she hadn’t.
Though it doesn’t make me any less furious. I bare my teeth at the woodsy scenery as if the towering trees and snow-capped mountain tops are the reason for Nevaeh’s absence.
“Keep searching,” I say to the men in the room. “Cover every inch of the land surrounding the estate.”
“C, we have,” Matteo pipes up. “We’ve searched the entire woodland—”
“Cover every inch of the city,” I go on louder. “Turn Dresden upside down if you have to. Ballerinas do not disappear into thin air. She’s out there somewhere.”
“We’ve been all over the city. We haven’t had much luck.”
“You aren’t trying hard enough.”
“C, it’s possible she didn’t—”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I bark so ferociously, everyone in the room flinches. I’ve rounded on Matteo with ragged breaths heaving out of me, my face clenched in fury. “You have your fucking orders. Now follow them—all of you!”
My men scatter like rats. They push and shove each other as they converge on the door and then their shoulders get stuck in the frame. By the time they’ve fled, the only two remaining are me and Ms. Poitier.
She hasn’t budged an inch, still beside the war-planning table. The knit of her brows and flatness of her mouth communicate how she’s feeling, even if she’s remained silent and given me the time and space to sulk.
I pace a few more times, throwing a couple dirty looks in her direction.
Still, she keeps from reacting. She waits for me in the manner an exasperated parent does when their toddler’s in the middle of a tantrum.
I grit my teeth, pacing by the window. Then I cave in and snarl at her. “This is all your fault, P!”
“You said it was security’s fault fifteen minutes ago.”
“It’s their fault too! It’s all of your faults!”
“She was lying in bed with you,” Ms. Poitier points out calmly. “You didn’t notice she got out of bed?”
“I’m a heavy sleeper—I take medications! You’re the one who encouraged me to… to have that woman here!” I rage, throwing my arms up. “You said it would be a good opportunity to show Nevaeh I wasn’t trying to control her. She could still see her family.”
“It was a good opportunity. And it was kind of you to do so.”
“KIND? Who the fuck cares about kindness in this world? I should’ve known it was a trap!
That mother of hers is as slimy as the man she signed her daughter’s life away to!
” More frustration boils over inside me, and I shove at the weaponry on display.
The fire launcher’s knocked off its podium and smacks into the ground with a jarring thud.
The same happens to a display of bullet-proof gear that I send careening toward the ground.
Once I’ve chosen a path of destruction, it’s almost impossible to stop me.
For another minute, I destroy whatever’s within my reach. The drapes are wrenched off their rod and ripped in half. The laptop on a desk with the screen showing an overhead shot of the city gets thrown halfway across the room.
I wreak havoc, breaking any and everything within reach. Volcanic rage consumes me instead of accepting the truth of what’s happened.
Truth that’s most destructive of all.
Ms. Poitier sees it plain as day. She’d claim it’s dripping off me. It’s in every breath I heave and roar that thunders out of me.
Nevaeh, mia bella ballerina, did not love me. She never loved me.
The entirety of our relationship was only a dream. My fantasy where I forced a frightened young woman to marry me and then proceeded to hold her captive until she agreed she was in love with me. When she peered up into my eyes and told me she did, I believed her.
We had many rough spots in our relationship, but she wanted to be with me.
It had seemed so fucking real…
I let out another roar worthy of a great beast and then find there’s nothing left to destroy. The entire war room resembles the aftermath of a bomb explosion.
And then there’s prim and proper Ms. Poitier still stubbornly waiting for me with her silvery curls and house dress.
My heart twitches. Physical pain I prefer to deal with rather than the emotional kind.
The truth I’m avoiding.
“What is it?” I snap, panting for a clean breath. “Why are you still fucking staring at me?”
“C, don’t let this destroy you. It’s only been thirty-six hours. You’ve got to have your head in the game.”
I scrub a large hand over my face. I haven’t slept. I haven’t eaten. I’ve barely taken a piss since mia ballerina left. Dr. Tulio has shown up twice trying to lure me to his office for my next treatment. I don’t have long before forgoing it causes major complications for me.
“My head is in the game,” I mutter, closing my eyes. “But Nevi takes precedence.”
“I understand,” Ms. Poitier says. “We’ll get her back. I’m sure she has her reasons.”
“NO! There is no fucking excuse. No justification she could give. She walked out on the vows we made to each other. She will pay a price.”
“C—”
“Get the fuck out of my face!”
She sighs in disappointment, turning away. “As you wish. I just hope you come to your senses soon. This is no game, C. We’re in the thick of it.”
I don’t bother asking what she’s lecturing me about. Ms. Poitier’s opinion is one of the few I respect, but make no mistake, I do what I want above all else.
A lot may be happening at once with the war between my family and the Vorones. Nero has waged an even more concentrated war with me after what happened at the theater. Loyalties are all but gone in my family after I discovered Carmelo’s betrayal.
More level-headed capos would focus their time on these matters. They’d devote more of their energy and efforts to battling Nero and besting the family members who are out for Pa’s throne.
I’ve never claimed to be a level-headed man. I’ve never cared about inhabiting thrones or winning stupid titles. All of it is meaningless when I shut myself off from the rest of society most days. What do I need with the mantle of Don when reclusion suits me so much more?
I have my estate. I have my men. I had everything I wanted except for…
…mia bella ballerina.
She was the missing link to my life. She was the angel of my dreams. The person who helped me through the pain and looming death. How could she disappear as if she never cared?
I’m out of howls to give. I’m out of things to break.
My chest aches. The pain stabs away at me.
Finally I give in and seek Dr. Tulio out. I find him in his office where he usually is. He snaps into preparing the treatment from the second he spies me walking through the door.
“I’d hoped you’d come,” he says, grabbing the vials. “You must be in pain.”
I sink into the exam chair and close my eyes, exhaustion already setting in. Nevaeh creeps into my thoughts.
“Always.”
Fogginess clears like clouds when the sun breaks through. It’s no wonder why they have—she twirls into view with her arms arced gracefully and the point of her toes barely touching the ground. She’s defying physics the way she flits about so light and airily.
Suddenly, the razors cutting me up from the inside fade. I’m no longer consumed by pain. At least no longer cognizant of the damage its wreaking.
Her every move entrances me. She spins and leaps, telling a story with the petite body I know so well, the pale pink tulle skirt she wears glittering in the light.
Hypnotic in how she launches into pirouette after pirouette. I’m unable to look away until it dawns on me others have materialized.
We’re no longer alone for her performance. The others edge closer as if trying to intrude.
She notices, slowing down, coming out of her twirls. Her pretty dark eyes widen.
We come to the same conclusion at the same moment. Something’s not right; something is terribly wrong.
The pain rushes in, a thousand sharp pricks stabbing into me all at once, as I open my mouth and yell.
“NEVI!”
Her name leaves my lips over and over again as my arms and legs thrash.
“Mr. C, please! Restrain yourself!” Dr. Tulio grunts. He’s leaning over me with his hands scrabbling to grab hold of mine and pin me down.
I’m too brutish, too monstrous for him. I spring up despite his efforts to hold me down, and I knock him back a couple steps. Sweat pours down the sides of my face and sticks my shirt to my back. I’m clammy and dizzy, my lungs short on air.
But Nevaeh is the only thing I can think of. She’s all I see before my eyes as I struggle between the dream and reality around me.
It had felt so real. It had felt like something was… very, very wrong.
“Nevaeh,” I huff out. “Where is Nevi?”
“Mr. C, I don’t—”
“Get out of my way!”
I storm out of the doctor’s office and stagger into the hall outside. The guard stationed at the entry point calls out to me in concern. He’s probably wondering why I’m rushing out of Dr. Tulio’s office lurching around like I’m belligerent and drunk.
I don’t make it far down the hall. Matteo must overhear the commotion, because he appears with a harried look on his face.
“C, there you are! We’ve got news. I just heard back from the guys on the streets. They’ve made an interesting discovery.”