Page 79 of Ruined By Protection
I join him at the table, forcing my mind to shift gears. "Tell me."
He made some calls while having dinner alone in the restaurant." Daniel taps a surveillance photo showing Elliott in the hotel lobby. "This morning he met with his attorney, Stanley Blackwell."
"Blackwell," I repeat, the name vaguely familiar. "Divorce specialist?"
Daniel nods. "Known for playing dirty. Very dirty."
"What else?"
"Montgomery's hired two private investigators." Daniel slides another photo across the table. "Ex-cops. They've been asking questions at the airport, showing Hazel's picture around."
I run a hand over my face, trying to think clearly. Images of Hazel keep intruding—her smile, her tears, her body trembling beneath mine.
"Matteo," Daniel says, his voice pulling me back. "You good?"
"Fine," I snap, then immediately regret it. "Sorry. Just... didn't get much sleep."
Daniel's phone rings, cutting through our conversation. He answers with a curt "Yes?" and listens, his expression shifting to concern. "Hold on," he says, then looks at me. "It's Fabio. Mrs. Montgomery is asking for a ride."
"A ride? Where the fuck does she think she's going?" I demand.
Daniel puts the phone on speaker. Fabio's voice comes through, tense and uncertain. "She's insisting, sir. Says she needs to leave immediately."
"Absolutely no," I bark into the phone. "Tell her to stay put."
"I tried, sir. She's... determined."
Something cold slides down my spine. "Put her on the phone. Now."
There's a rustling sound, then Hazel's voice comes through, defiant despite the slight tremor. "I don't need to talk to you, Matteo. I just need a car."
"You're not fucking going anywhere," I say, my voice dropping dangerously low. "Your husband is out there with private investigators looking for you."
"I know that," she snaps.
I grip the edge of the table, knuckles turning white. "Give the phone to Fabio and wait for me."
"No." The single word is cutting. "You don't have the right to tell me what to do. I need to get the hell out of New York now."
My patience snaps. "Why? What happened?"
The silence stretches for a beat too long. "Hazel, answer me."
Instead of answering, the line goes dead.
"Fuck!" I slam my fist against the wall, leaving a dent in the drywall. I grab my jacket and keys, already moving toward the door. "Call Fabio back. Tell him not to let her leave the fucking property. If she tries to walk out, physically restrain her."
Daniel's already dialing.
I'm halfway out the door when I turn back. "And Daniel? If Montgomery makes a move toward the estate, shoot him in the fucking knee."
I don't wait for his response. My mind races faster than my feet. Something spooked her. After everything she shared last night, after the way she melted into me, something happened to make her bolt.
The thought of her running from me twists painfully in my chest.
I slam onto my Ducati, engine roaring to life beneath me. Traffic laws become suggestions as I weave through cars, the needle pushing well past legal limits. My watch reads 11.43 a.m. If she leaves the estate, finding her becomes exponentially harder.
I push the Ducati to its limits, the engine screaming beneath me as I weave through traffic like a man possessed.
