Page 196 of Money Reigns
Location sharing.
I swipe hard across the screen, find the icon, log in with muscle memory.
The little circle loads.
Come on.Come on.
Her last known location populates the map.
I stare, blood pounding in my ears.
Her apartment.
Of all places.
Why the fuck would she go there?
***
I don’t even remember leaving the penthouse, just the slam of the door and the growl of the engine as I tear into the street.
My knuckles ache against the wheel, white-knuckled, every red light nothing but an insult.
Her apartment.
I’d had it decorated for her. Every detail. Every piece of furniture chosen because I knew what she deserved. Fresh clothes in the closet, her favorite toiletries, frames filled with her family’s photos. If one day she chose to move out of the penthouse, I was going with her. There was no version of reality where she lived here alone, without everything she needed.
It was supposed to be a surprise.
Maybe she saw it. Maybe shehatedit.
The thought tears through me like shrapnel.
By the time I reach her building, I’m shaking with it. The elevator drags to get down to me, crawling between floors like it’s mocking me. I don’t wait. I bound the stairs, three at a time, lungs burning.
Her door is in front of me. I yank out my copy of the key and shove it into the lock, twisting hard.
“Olivia!”
The word rips out of me, harsh and desperate, echoing down the empty hall.
Silence.
I stalk inside. The air smells faintly of her perfume, a sweet trace that punches me in the chest.
Bedroom.
The sheets are rustled at the edge, like she sat there, like she thought. Like she planned.
The closet door hangs open. A few clothes are scattered on the floor.
No.
No fucking way.
I step closer, chest clenching so hard it feels like it might collapse.
Her suitcase is gone.
