Chapter 23

Vance

The clock on the dash ticks onward with each mile, long surpassing the appointed time of the wedding. I couldn't get near the mansion in time to stop the ceremony. Now I'm left to drive back and forth along this road in front of the mansion, my blood rising another ten degrees with every pass.

I've lost her for good. She's married off to that fucking asshole, and there's nothing I can do about it.

It's time to give up and admit I've been beaten. This isn't an easy task for a driven man like me, but I pull onto a side road and turn around to go back home. It's the smart thing to do. I was never meant to be with a woman like Bella.

Weight in my right foot keeps me planted on the brakes. Something inside me claws to the surface, begging me to be irrational and wild. To find her. To make sure she's truly gone and that there's no hope of making her mine. I shouldn't listen to that voice inside my head, but it's so loud. It screams over any logical thought, forcing its way to the forefront and waving a banner that I can't see around. It fills my vision in a blaze of red.

I watch the mansion through the trees, waiting as a crowd of people and their respective security begin to disperse. Each family has their own bodyguard that would give their life for their safety, just as I would have done for Isabella.

Just as I would still do for her. My life is hers alone.

I put the car in park. I can't leave without her. Unless she tells me to get out of her life, I refuse to give up on her. I never should have allowed them to take her away. Not without asking how she feels about me first. Now the question gnaws at my heart, tearing away pieces until I no longer feel it beating.

By the time the sun dips beneath the horizon, the security has diminished to a trickle. The big mansion on the hill is less protected now. If I plan to do this, it's now or never.

I remove my gun from its leather holster and pull back the slide, making sure it's still loaded and operational. When it clicks into place, the decision is made. I'll find her and give her the chance to come with me. I'd rather die than be without her, so who cares if I risk my life now?

I pull out my GPS and plot a path through back roads that will deliver me to the back of the mansion.

This luxury vehicle was made for city streets, not dirt roads and potholes, but it cuts through the red dirt with ease. Even though I'm moving at a slow pace, a plume of dust rises around the car. I can only hope the loosely packed dirt gives way to pavement when I'm closer to the mansion. I'd hate to give away my position.

Still, I struggle to keep my foot from pressing on the gas pedal. I need to reach her before he gets his fucking hands on her. Before he takes what's mine. Even if he owns her pussy by marriage, I claimed and marked her before he did.

Watching the GPS, I bring the car to a stop on the side of the road. These woods run right up to the edge of the property. My destination isn't far off now, and I can only hope I'm not heading toward my grave.

I'm fairly certain I know where she'll be; she pointed out the window overlooking the garden when we were last here and told me that's where she'd finally lose her virginity. She said it to annoy me, and it worked. She didn't realize she was giving me the information I would need today.

To save her.

To save myself.

I get out of the car, then holster one pistol and sink the other beneath my waistband before I disappear into the forest. Thick brush grips my ankles, and the trees crowd each other like tourists in Times Square. Branches reach for my face, stretching spindly fingers toward my cheeks, but I dodge out of their way as I race toward the mansion.

Nothing will stop me from getting to her now. A rattlesnake could sink its hollow fangs into my leg and I would just keep going.

The sun has gone to bed, wrapping the world in darkness. Owls hoot within the treetops, and animals scurry through the brush, seeking safety from the predators. But I can't pay attention to any of that. I think only of planning my uninvited entrance into their home. The guard stations were vacant the night of the party, but I'm certain they're inhabited now, especially after such a toxic union. Everyone will be on high alert.

It doesn't matter. I'll send a bullet through the skull of anyone who dares to stand between me and Isabella. Mark my words, blood will paint my hands tonight, though I don't know if it will pour from a guard or if it will stain the sheets beneath Isabella when I take her the way she always begged for me to.

Fuck, I should have given in to her. I should have cast aside that stupid little rule I made for myself. I thought sleeping with her would complicate things, but look at everything now. It's complicated as fuck, and I still never experienced her perfection wrapped around my cock.

A sprawling courtyard waits just beyond the shadows of this tree line. The guard booth illuminates a small square in the grass, and a guard lingers inside. A spotlight scans the landscape. Dodging the circle of illumination, I make my way across the lawn until I'm behind the booth. Dark hair swivels as the guard scans the multitude of security cameras. He must have spotted something, because he studies a frame a little longer than the others.

He must have spotted...me.

I rip open the metal door, and he whips around to face me, eyes wide with shock. His hand rises to the radio. I grab it from him before he can alert anyone.

As much as I would love to pull out my gun and blow his head off—it would certainly be the fastest way to finish this—it would be too loud. Guards would flock to this location like flies on shit. And we can't have that, can we?

I grip his wrist and twist until I hear something snap. Before he can scream, I duck behind him and press my hand over his mouth. With my free hand, I grip the radio's stiff cable and wind it around his neck, releasing his mouth in the process. He can't scream if he can't breathe.

I tighten my hold on the cord and watch as his face deepens to red before going a sickly shade of purple. Blood vessels crawl along his scleras and spread like spiderwebs. Then they burst. Red fireworks become a flood encircling his irises. His hands flail, scrabbling for me, but I won't be deterred. I won't stop until he is one less obstacle between me and Isabella.

When his hands still at his sides and a river of piss runs down his leg and splatters onto the concrete floor, I know he's dead.

I settle him in the chair and prop his head so that it looks as if he's watching the security monitors. If anyone happens to come by, it won't look suspicious. Well, as long as they don't study him too closely. Living people blink.

I pull the keyring from his waist and leave the booth. After a short jaunt across the courtyard, I let myself inside Antonio's home.

His sanctuary will soon become an abattoir, and he is the beast I plan to slaughter. I'll decide how he dies once I know if he's touched her. If he's already defiled her, I might have to make it very slow and very painful.

As I approach the door, adrenaline buzzes through me in a rush. Questions burn through my brain. And it's time to get answers.