Page 4 of King

“I’m okay,” I lie through my teeth, but he just nods without questioning me.

I glance at the photo of Gianna and me.

It’s my focal point. She’s my rock, and I’m doing all this for us. If this stunt doesn’t bring her back home to kill me herself, nothing will.

Then I’ll be able to wring her neck for taking off pregnant with my child and not leaving any information for me to follow her with.

“How long has it been now?” Hooper asks knowing I’ve been keeping a mental count down of when she left.

“One hundred and eighty-six days.” Jester whistles.

“She must be ready to pop.” Hooper’s words don’t help matters.

“Let’s go,” I push my way out of the room and stop dead in my tracks.

“What the fuck happened in here?” The room is a fucking disaster.

There is fabric, glue guns, sequential, and glitter everywhere. I glance around, looking for Chaos. This shit has him written all over it.

“These are all custom Prez!” Hooper turns and fucking Vogues.

“Stop. My brain already hurts. I need a fucking drink.” I grab my cell phone and notice a few missed calls from Bruno.

I don’t bother listening to his messages and just call him back.

“Boss, there was a sighting.” My mouth forgets how to work.

She surfaced? Why now? Where? Why am I not speaking?

“Boss?” His heavy Italian accent gets stronger when he’s agitated.

“Where?” I crook out finally, then take several deep breaths because I’d stopped breathing altogether when he dropped the bomb on me.

“Teterboro. Her private jet is in the air, heading home now. Check the pictures I sent you.” He curses in Italian and hangs up on me.

“King?” Jester moves closer to me, and I watch a tear fall from my lashes and hit the screen of my phone.

It’s graining, but it’s her.

“She’s on her way home,” I whisper as I rub my thumb over the picture of Gianna holding her belly up to climb the stairs into her Gulf Stream.

“That’s fantastic news! Wow, when will she be here?” I look at the clock and do the math.

New Jersey to Los Angeles.

“Six hours.” Almost seven months apart, and suddenly, I had a few hours before I got to see her again.

CHAPTER TWO

GIANNA

I stepoff my Gulf Stream and inhale the sweet smell of the ocean. I look out over the Pacific and smile. The Mediterranean Sea just doesn’t compete with the vastness of the blue waters in front of me.

The waves crashing on the beach give me a moment of reprieve from my angry thoughts.

I fumed on the first leg of my trip. Palmero to New York in coach using my fake ID so no one could track me. But then I stopped off at my studio apartment in Manhattan to check on things. I thought I would rest overnight before returning to LA, but what I found could not wait.

Lucas “King” Cole has been meddling in my affairs.

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