Page 42 of Descent into Madness

I don’t understand what she means.

Her hand comes down on mine. “I see how much you love him. I do believe he cares for you. You’re also in the honeymoon stage in every sense of the word. Hopefully, it’s many years from now, but the time will come when you are no longer a shiny toy for him to play with. Now is the time to set terms for your marriage and what you want and need from him. If you do not, he will believe you are content with things as they are. While he would do anything to make you happy, tell him your currency, and he will pay. Manuel would give you anything you asked for, so ask him.”

A part of me wants desperately to share my fears. Yet something is holding me back.

“Yes, he’s rich and twenty thousand a month is nothing to him. Your father was rich too. My allowance was a pittance. He was stingy with every penny he gave me. Manuel is not stingy with his money. Only you can decide if he’s stingy with his love and time. Ask him for what you need to be happy. I believe he will give it to you.” She urges me.

* * *

Nicolette

Over the next week, I try to hold on to my mother’s words, but it’s not easy. I don’t hear anything from Manuel. I’m too embarrassed to ask Joe for news.

Joe disappears often for hours and a few times for a day at a time. My mother leaves the day after our lunch to visit her aunt in Monterrey, Mexico for two weeks.

If it weren’t for the children finally warming to me, I’d be in a little pool of misery.

Both Luisa and Ofelia allow me to help them, play with them, and I even held Luisa’s hand. It turns out they were as scared of me as I hated to think they were. They missed their mom. I tried to explain their mom wasn’t coming back. She loved them very much, but she wasn’t coming back. Not because she didn’t want to. Because she couldn’t. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving.

I’m a wimp and grateful they don’t ask questions. I don’t know if it’s right or wrong. All I know is I can’t imagine them going through the tortured years Patty experienced.

It isn’t until the early hours of day seven that my husband remembers he has a wife. I’m woken by Manuel’s tongue ravenously buried in my pussy. My hands dig into his thick, silky hair. I hate he woke me. Not because he’s waking me to fuck me, because a part of me is scared this is a dream, and I’ll wake up to find him gone again.

Thick fingers fuck me deep as he sucks on my clit, sending me into a body wracking orgasm. It’s the first of many. Through two mind-blowing hours, I’m torn apart and put back together again and again until I wonder if I’m the same person I was before his mouth turned me inside out.

It’s a replay of the last time he came home. This time I get him for six days. Then once again, I wake up to find him gone.

I’m going to kick his ass.

* * *

Manuel

“What the fuck do you mean the place is empty? I’m ten minutes away.” I need him to be wrong. “You sure you got the right place?”

“I’m telling you, he’s cleared out. I checked next door. The neighbor confirmed him from the picture. Said he saw him yesterday morning but didn’t hear him come home before he went to bed or see him when he left for work this morning, Boss.”

“Fucking find him,” I growl into the phone. I’m proud I don’t throw my phone the way I want.

The only reason I’m here is because of the promise I would finally get my hands on Richie Angelo. This was a waste of two days. Two days away from Nicolette when I could have been falling asleep inside my sunshine.

If I had gone home as soon as I finished getting our hijacked shipment back, I would have had three days with my woman before I had to be in Russia. The problem with losing the shipment is it was the Levin payment to us in a mix of weapons—including two crates of rocket launchers. We needed them back before the Reyes cartel got them. The fuckers still had a crate from a shipment they managed to grab last year and have been making too much fucking noise with it ever since.

Anger and frustration at the fuckers had me using one of those rocket launchers on one of their production facilities. I made it clear if they tried again, I’d use one on every production facility I could find. My father was pissed. But I stand by it. Considering they were dirty as fuck, responsible for the death of many for no other reason than to inspire fear, I felt it was time they felt a little of the fear they traded in.

I order my driver to take me back to the airport and get me the fuck out of Newfoundland. Fucking Richie. He’s running like a cockroach to hide in the dark where I can’t see him. This is the second time I was within days of him. What pisses me off is how far behind him I am. My men and contacts don’t lag this far behind.

The pilot warns we need to refuel before we take off again for St. Petersburg. He put in the request the moment we landed. However, they’re running behind, so we have a two-hour wait. Since I haven’t slept in a day, I tell him I’m going to board and get some sleep, not to bother me with the flight shit. Just get us where I need to go.

Thomas answers on the first ring, speaking as he does. “I apologize, sir. My only delay in informing you of his location was nine hours to plug him into the cameras. As soon as it confirmed face recognition in the city, I was able to triangulate to his likely location—”

“I don’t need you to give me a play by fucking play of how you wasted my time. All I give a shit about is the next time you tell me you have his location, it better be right,” I snarl before ending the call.

After a quick shower, I don’t bother doing more than drying off before falling into bed. I thought I would crash the moment my head hit the pillow, but I don’t. All I can think of is Nicolette. I want my sunshine. Fuck critical thinking, I need her.

She answers on the first ring. “Manuel? Are you okay?”

“No. I miss the fuck out of you, sunshine. I need to hear your voice. Talk to me, please.”

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