Page 82 of Wrathful King
I was soaking the scene in, memorizing every single piece, when a woman in a vivid blue dress caught my eye. She was walking by holding a little girl’s hand in hers. My brain struggled to comprehend. Familiar curls resembling mine, except the wrong hair color. Red. Similar build. Except… Why would she have a little girl with her?No, it can’t be her.Phoenix would never color her hair. She said it was a waste of her time sitting at the salon for hours on end.
The woman looked left, then right as she readied to cross the cobblestone street, and I caught her profile.
I gasped.
“Something wrong?” Amon’s voice barely registered as I shot to my feet and ran across the restaurant. It was too crowded, too dark. I pushed my body through the crowd. “Reina, slow down.”
“Phoenix,” I called out, which made no sense, knowing my sister was deaf. And still I did it again. “Phoenix.”
I didn’t dare look behind me, scared I’d lose sight of her. I was certain it was Phoenix.
A man stopped in front of me, tall and dark, and I almost screamed. I tried to sidestep him, but he had the same idea.
Finally, I let out a frustrated growl. “Stop moving,” I snapped. Taken aback, the stranger stilled, our eyes meeting for a flicker of a second. Just enough to see that he was older with a dominant aura around him. But I had no time for manners. I’d just seen my sister and I needed to get to her.
I bypassed him without a word, but it was too late. The woman was gone. My eyes darted around, searching for any sign of blue, but it was as if she’d vanished into thin air.
I ran to the last spot I’d seen her, spinning around in a three-sixty turn, arms wide.
I took a deep breath, then screamed, “Phoenix!”
The world froze and so did everyone around me. But the woman in blue was nowhere to be found.
30
AMON
Igulped down the contents of my glass, dropped a stack of bills on the table, and ran after my wife who seemed to be chasing the devil himself in her pink polka-dot Givenchy dress. Or was it Bottega Veneta? Fuck, it really didn’t matter.
Pulling my phone from my shorts, I typed a quick message to the captain to have a boat ready for us. By the look on Reina’s face, we were in for a hard night. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.
And it had nothing to do with the man she was manically trying to step around.
“Lykos,” I greeted him, not even bothering to stop to acknowledge the head of the Greek mafia. Lykos Costello. “Apologies, in a rush.”
“Phoenix!” Her scream drew more than a few eyes.
I closed the distance between us, then grabbed her by the wrist and turned her around to face me. She thrashed against my chest, her breathing harsh and her face turning red. Her curls flew wildly around her head and matched the expression in her eyes.
Her lips moved but there wasn’t a sound.
“Reina, look at me.” I took her cheeks between my palms. “Look at me.” Our eyes locked and seconds stretched. One… two… three. The wildness slowly receded, though her breathing was still choppy and uneven. “You think you saw Phoenix?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “I s-swear.” A hiccup escaped her. “It looked like her. But—” Her left hand, shaking uncontrollably, came to rest against my own.
“But?” I urged, brushing her cheek with the pad of my thumb. She kept swallowing, over and over again, her eyes darting around me, avoiding my eyes. I took my free hand and slid it to her chin, gently pulling her attention back to me, brushing our lips together. “But what?”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Never.”
“She had red-colored hair and a little girl with her.” Her lips moved against mine as she spoke her fears into my mouth. “Phoenix would be alone, not with a little girl.” Her voice shattered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Maybe I’m going mad?”
“You’re not.” My fingers stroked her soft skin. “You’re worried about her. The two of you are close. It’s not unusual.” I found it hard to believe this was a coincidence. Lykos saw someone resembling Phoenix’s description and slipped a tip to Marchetti, then Reina presumably saw the same person. Maybe she was here after all. I trusted Dante would find her if that was the case. She blinked her tears away, one stubborn droplet clinging to her long eyelashes. I wiped it softly before kissing her forehead. “But she’s a big girl. A woman. And you said it yourself, she’s strong.”
“I… I said that?” Fuck, the insecurity in her voice gutted me. I nodded. “She is. She’s much stronger than I am, but I can’t help worrying. Mamma made me promise.”
“Promise what?”
