All I've Never Wanted(123)
He snorted, his lips twisted in amusement. “You do talk an awful lot, don’t you? He was right.”
“Who?” My voice rose. “Who are you talking about? Answer my question!”
The amusement fell from his face. “You’re not the one making the demands here, Maya,” he sneered. I tried not to retch at the sound of my voice coming out of his mouth. “In fact, I would be very, very careful about what I say if I were you.”
“I don’t even know you!” I gave up trying to be calm. There’s no being calm in a situation like this. “Why are you doing this?”
He blinked. “It’s a pity.” He clucked. “You honestly don’t know who’s responsible for everything? Guess you’re not as smart as everyone thinks you are.”
“There’s no one out there who has anything against me,” I said, wriggling my wrists discreetly behind my back and hoping the ropes were at least a little loose.
No such luck.
“Maybe you have the wrong person and this is all just one big understanding. My name’s not even Maya,” I lied.
Tattoo Guy snorted again. “Nice try, but I know for sure who you are, thanks to some first-hand identification.”
I stared at him, confused. Then, a side door I didn’t notice opened, the sound echoing in the empty room, and my stomach dropped when I saw someone else walking towards it.
It was definitely a guy, but I couldn’t make out his features until he neared.
When I did finally realize who it was, the blood froze in my veins.
No way. There’s no freakin’ way it could be him.
And then, unable to hold it back any longer, I quickly turned away and threw up right next to my chair.
* * *
The vase—an antique worth tens of thousands of dollars—shattered into a million pieces on the marble floor, but the tall, scruffy-looking man standing in the Fioris’ grand salon didn’t even flinch.
“What the hell do you mean you don’t know?!” Roman roared, his face red with fury as he glared at the private investigator. “What kind of f*ckin’ P.I. are you anyway?”
The man’s face was as placid as ever. When he spoke, his voice was low and scratchy. “You called me yesterday morning. While I can assure you I’ve been looking into the matter the best I can, twenty-four hours is not enough time for me to turn up any clues.”
A vein throbbed dangerously above Roman’s temple. “Fine,” he spit. “But if I don’t get results soon, you won’t have to worry about finding any clues for anyone ever again, because your career will be over!”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” the man replied calmly. “If that’s all, I’ll return to my task at hand.”
When Roman didn’t say anything, he turned and quietly exited the room.
Roman clenched his fists together as he stared out the window. His family’s tennis courts, swimming pools, and gardens were spread out in front of him, but he barely saw any of it. He tried his best to hold on to his anger, because he knew that once it was gone, he would just feel the way he’d felt for the past two days—worried, panicked, nauseous, terrified, and helpless.
And Roman Fiori did not like feeling any of those things, particularly the helpless part.
A basketball lodged itself in his throat as he thought back to what was supposed to be an amazing night. His and Maya’s one month anniversary. He’d had everything set up and ready to go, but that night, even as he drove to pick her up, he’d sensed something was wrong.
When he arrived at her house and saw all the lights were off, dread had washed over him, and it had only intensified when he realized both Maya and Mickey were missing.
Roman had called all of his friends, hoping one of them had spirited her away somewhere as a joke, but of course, none of them had.
Now, two days later, he wasn’t any closer to finding out where she’d gone. There was even a chance that she might be—might be—
No. Don’t think about that. She’s alive. She is. Roman drew in a deep breath, trying to relax his hands, even though he felt like he was going to throw up. He couldn’t afford to lose it now. Maya was counting on him.
His back pocket vibrated, indicating an incoming call.
He immediately whipped it out, thinking for the briefest moment it was Maya calling, but it was only Carlo.
“We’re almost there.” The Colombian sounded exhausted. “Open the gates.”
Roman ended the call with a curt “Ok,” and ten minutes later, Carlo, Adriana, Zack, Parker, and Venice were all situated in the salon. Their faces were tense and drawn, even Zack’s, but Carlo looked the worst out of all of them.
Clearly, the disappearance of both his brother and one of his best friends had taken its toll on him.
“I just don’t understand what’s going on.” Venice’s voice was small as she curled up in a brocade armchair, her green eyes wide and frightened. “I mean, where could she possibly have gone? She—she—“ A sob escaped her, and she couldn’t continue as the tears leaked from her eyes and she buried her face in her hands.
“Shh. It’s ok.” Zack was perched on the arm of her chair, and he ran his hand soothingly over her back. “We’ll figure it out. Between all of us, we’ll find out what happened.”