CHAPTER 33
Daniel
Daniel's rage consumed him as he sat in his car, the leather seat creaking beneath his weight as he shifted with barely contained fury. The door slammed shut with a resounding bang that echoed across the nearly empty parking lot, the sound sharp and violent in the early morning stillness.
His fist collided with the steering wheel once, twice, three times, each impact sending jolts of pain up his arm.
But the physical pain was nothing, just a pinprick compared to the seething anger coursing through his veins like molten lava, burning away rational thought and leaving only white-hot fury in its wake.
He stared, trying to comprehend how this colossal failure could have happened.
He had been so careful. So methodical. So patient.
For an entire week, he'd lurked at the horse show like a ghost, blending into the crowds of spectators and competitors.
He'd bided his time under the oppressive sun, waiting for the perfect opportunity to follow Connor back to wherever he was hiding Anna.
Seven days of watching. Seven days of planning. Seven days of imagining the moment he'd finally have her back where she belonged.
And for what?
Daniel's eyes burned as he stared at the barren stretch of dirt and trampled grass where Connor's elaborate setup had stood just yesterday.
The spot was empty now, marked only by faint rectangular impressions where the horse trailer had sat, a few stray bits of hay, and tire tracks leading toward the exit.
They had vanished into the night—horses, trailer, crew—leaving no trace of their presence or destination. Gone. Simply gone, as if they'd never existed.
No, this can't be happening.
The realization hit him like a physical blow, stealing the breath from his lungs and turning his vision into a red-tinged haze. Weeks of preparation, research, and careful planning. Everything. Crumbled to dust in an instant.
The thought that they might have spotted him, figured out his identity, traced his surveillance, passed through his mind like a cold finger down his spine. But he shook his head sharply, dismissing it, the motion cracking his neck.
If they had identified him, if they knew he'd been watching, there would have been consequences. Police. Confrontation. Security dragging him away in handcuffs while Anna looked on, that infuriating mix of fear and defiance in her eyes.
No. This was something else entirely. Some other reason for their abrupt disappearance that had nothing to do with him.
But what? What could make them vanish so suddenly?
Fury twisted in his gut; unlike anything he had ever felt. Deeper, more visceral than the rage he'd felt the night Anna had fled their home in darkness. It was alive, demanding release, consuming him, contorting his features into a grotesque mask of malice.
He caught himself in the rearview mirror, eyes wild and bloodshot, lips pulled back in a snarl, tendons in his neck corded and rigid.
She had done this. She was doing this deliberately, he was convinced, toying with him.
Thoughts of Anna ignited darker impulses, a desire to make her suffer for the humiliation and inconvenience she'd caused. Fantasies rose unbidden, vivid and violent. Her tears, her desperate pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears, her realization that escape was impossible.
He would take his time, he vowed silently, fingers curling into claws against his thighs. He would savor her anguish, make her understand the consequences of defiance, of thinking she could walk away from what they had built together.
She's mine. Always mine. She just forgot.
And Connor… Daniel's jaw clenched until it ached. Connor would pay for shielding Anna, for daring to stand between him and what was rightfully his. The cowboy would learn that some boundaries shouldn't be crossed, that some men shouldn't be challenged.
The morning sun beat down on the metal roof of his car, turning it into a stifling oven. His mind churned with dark fantasies of revenge, each scenario more elaborate than the last, each ending with Anna broken, begging, finally understanding she had no choice but to come back to him.
He was sure she needed him. She just didn't realize it yet.
He began to plan again, mind racing through possibilities only to discard them as quickly.
He could return to the squalid motel he'd been calling home for the past week, a dingy room with stained carpets, paper-thin walls, and the stench of cigarette smoke and desperation.
He could gather his meager belongings, the few changes of clothes, printed photos of Anna, notes detailing Connor's schedule, and hit the road.
But without a clear direction, without any leads to follow, the prospect seemed daunting. He'd already exhausted his most promising avenue of investigation.
The office. The goddamn show office.
He had tried three nights ago to break into the horse show's main office, desperate for any scrap of information that might lead him to Connor's home address. Surely they kept records, files with emergency contact information and mailing addresses for competitors.
But the unexpected presence of security, a bored-looking guard making his rounds with a flashlight and a German Shepherd, had foiled his attempt. Daniel had been forced to melt back into the shadows, heart pounding and sweat soaking through his shirt, barely avoiding detection.
He considered trying again, but the risk was too great. One mistake, one stroke of bad luck, and he'd end up in police custody. That would allow Anna to disappear forever, spirited away to some new location while he rotted in a cell.
He couldn't risk it. He had to be smarter.
His fingers drummed against the steering wheel in a staccato rhythm that matched the pulsing anger in his veins. The repetitive motion was almost hypnotic, allowing his mind to wander down darker paths.
He closed his eyes, indulging in the twisted visions that danced behind his eyelids like a private cinema showing only for him.
Anna, helpless and broken, completely at his mercy. Tied to a chair, or maybe a bed. Unable to run. Unable to hide. Forced to listen as he explained everything she'd put him through. Made to understand the pain and humiliation she'd caused.
He would take his fill of her, both in body and spirit, reminding her how good they'd been together before she'd let others poison her mind against him. Before she'd let fear and weakness overcome the love they shared.
And then, when he was finished, when he had extracted every last ounce of suffering and despair from her pitiful form, when she finally understood that defying him had been a mistake—
He would decide then. Keep her or end it. Depending on whether she'd learned her lesson.
A cold, rational part of his mind whispered that she wasn't worth the effort, that he should cut his losses, return to his life in Seattle, and find someone new. Someone more compliant. More grateful for his attention.
But he had come too far to turn back now. He had invested too much of himself—time, money, energy, his very identity—in this hunt to let her slip away. To admit defeat would be to admit that she'd won, that a woman had bested him.
Unacceptable. Completely unacceptable.
No, he would find her, no matter the cost. He would make her regret ever daring to defy him, to think she could escape the consequences of her actions. To believe she could build a life without him, as if he were something disposable, something to be discarded when inconvenient.
And when he was finished with her, when justice had been served and the natural order restored, he would end her miserable life. He believed it was a fitting punishment for the trouble she had caused, for the disrespect she had shown.
It was only fair. She had made her choice when she left.
With a deep, steadying breath that did nothing to calm the storm raging inside him, Daniel opened his eyes. His gaze hardened with renewed determination, jaw setting into a stubborn line.
He wouldn’t be deterred. Not by setbacks, not by obstacles. He was a man on a mission, driven by a single, all-consuming purpose that gave his life meaning and direction.
Anna would be his again, to do with as he pleased. And nothing—not Connor with his cowboy swagger and protective instincts, not the vast expanse of the unknown that lay before him, not even Anna's pathetic attempts to hide—would stand in his way.
I always win. Always have. Always will.
He put the car in gear, the engine roaring to life with a rumble that vibrated through his bones. Gravel sprayed behind his tires as he tore out of the parking lot, his mind already racing with the possibilities of where to go next.
He needed to think strategically.
What strings could he pull? He had connections back in Vermont, people who owed him favors. Private investigators who might track Connor's registration, uncover property records, dig up information not readily available to the public.
What stones could he overturn in his relentless pursuit of his prey? He could dig deeper into Connor's online presence, look for tagged locations, mutual friends who might let something slip. Horse show circuits, there had to be schedules, upcoming events where Connor might appear.
The hunt was on, and Daniel was determined to emerge victorious, no matter the cost. To himself, to Anna, to anyone who got in his way.
She thinks she's free. She thinks she's safe.
A smile curved his lips, cold and devoid of warmth or humanity.
But she's not. She'll never be free. And soon, she'll understand that.
As he merged onto the highway, the horse show grounds disappearing in his rearview mirror, Daniel felt a strange sense of calm settle over the rage. Not peace, exactly, but purpose. Direction.
This isn't over, Anna. Not even close. I'm coming for you.
The miles stretched out before him, an endless ribbon of asphalt leading toward an unknown destination. But Daniel didn't care where the road led, as long as it eventually led to her.
Because it would. It had to.
He'd make sure of it.