Page 91 of Finally Forever
Xavier types in the name in his secure search that has information from the military, the government, and Interpol.
I stab fingers through my hair, frustration and panic grating on me. Did I miss something in my background check on Paolo? Did I misjudge his character? I’ve never made these mistakes before.
“He’s not a ghost but close to it. He wears lots of hats. Hitman, informant, spy, mercenary. No connection to a direct family. The man works solo. I see one connection to Francesca four years ago. That doesn’t mean they don’t interact regularly, just that it’s off the books. I need boots on the ground in Italy to further investigate. That takes time.”
“I don’t have time. She wants me to leave tonight to meet her.”
He turns in his chair. “Are you?”
“Yes. But I’ll need your help.”
He nods without hesitation. “You should know something.”
I stop pacing and give him my direct attention.
“Ainsley is gone.”
“Gone? Where?” Hiking?
“Gone, as in, I don’t know where. She left the grounds with a driver directly after Nathan and Riley left for the airport. I didn’t check the cameras when I got an alert, thinking it was them. She must have had help. My guess is Kensington. I don’t think Nathan and Riley would do anything behind your back, and the two women became close, from what I witnessed on the camera feed.”
“She left?” I utter in disbelief. My heart sinks, to my surprise. Fear for her wellbeing is the reason, I tell myself.
“I’m trying to track her.”
“Trying?”
“She left her phone here.”
“She has no phone?” The world tilts.
“And her watch?” The Cartier I gave her for our one-month anniversary of being in hiding together. She didn’t want anything except for me. I only wanted her safety, so I bought a beautiful diamond watch with a slender band to fit perfectly around her petite wrist. The dial is an iridescent green that reminds me of her eyes. I had a tracker chip placed in it.
Shit. I just remembered something else. I wipe my mouth, my pulse spiking anew. Us making love that night in the English cottage we’d relocated to and how the bed squeaked with our every move like it would break.
I laugh and then curse. “Fuck.” I beat my fists against my head. “I remember her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” More memories funnel into my brain as if they never left. A dark curtain had fallen over them and now it’s gone, torn down by something. Her leaving? Enough time? Healing?
“Fuck!” I shout to the ceiling, a fiery blade carving out chunks of my heart, my soul, because she’s gone. Because of how I treated her. Because of the pain I caused her. Because of the hurt in her eyes when I last saw her, so much hurt that she left me. Because she thought I was done with her. She didn’t know I was going to come back—if I could. Because I didn’t tell her. I left her in the dark. I abused her trust. I worshiped her body relentlessly without cherishing her the way she deserves, and she let me because she loves me that much. That fucking much!
My eyes burn in a strange way. What the fuck? I touch them, surprised to find tears. Fucking tears.
Xavier stands. “You remember?”
“I remembereverything,” I practically shout. “I treated her like shit. I fucked up so badly.”
“I almost don’t want to tell you there’s more.”
“More?” My muscles tighten harder, as if they’ve become cement.
His Adam’s apple bobs.
“What’s the more?” I grab the collar of his shirt, ready to punch his face in, as irrational as it sounds.
“You gotta promise me you’re going to calm down,” he says, as cool as ever. Damn military training.
I lower my hand from his shirt and take a step back, resisting the urge to ball my fingers into fists as my insides tremble with a certain fear only she can stir inside me.
“Promise you won’t lose your shit. It won’t help her if you do.” His voice is stern.
