“Hey dad, did you take a look at these new shipments? The numbers seem off.”
“Masaccio, you are in charge of that now—” I sigh, trying to wave him away from me.
“I know, I know, just look at it will you. Why are you here anyway? Retirement too boring for you?” He taunts me with a smile.
“It was getting a bit boring until last night. Now I have a new project going on.”
He raises his brows at me.
I shake my head. “Never mind, let me see that.” I say, holding my hand out to take the folder.
He sits in the chair opposite mine, and we start discussing the new shipments. It’s a welcome distraction.
The problem is that these small, short-lived distractions aren’t good enough to keep my mind off of Misha. As the days roll past, I am getting less and less sleep. My annoyance is growing worse and the people around me are starting to become wary of my moods. This game is harder than I thought. I want a challenge - but I want her more than I want the challenge.
It’s been three days since I saw her, and Dante is no closer to finding her than he was on the first day. How can someone be so good at disappearing into thin air?
I can find anyone. Why can’t I find her?
He’s found a list of her aliases.
Misha Black, Misha Snow, Misha Lincoln, Misha Philips - and each place she’s worked at she has managed to cause enough of a scene that they get angry at the mention of her.
The more I find out the more I want to know.
But I’m only diving into her recent past and it’s not leading me any closer to where she is now.
When Celso and Tuomo visit me at the penthouse late one evening, I am in a disgusting mood.
“What’s gotten into you?” Celso dares to ask, and I pick up a glass and throw it at him. It smashes against the wall behind his head, and he glares at me in shock. Celso is my youngest and tends to get away a little easier with disobeying me. It’s because I had a soft spot for his mother - and I have regrets about how it all ended with Amelia. But today I am not in the mood for anyone’s attitude or snide remarks.
“Get the fuck out.” I snarl at him.
Tuomo is already picking up his things to leave. Celso sneers his lip upward. “Dad?” he says, sounding dejected.
“I’m not interested. Get out.”
The fact that I can’t find her is driving me crazy. I want her.
I have to have her.
My sons leave, closing the door behind themselves and I stand up to pour myself another whisky.
CHAPTER FIVE
Misha
Iflick through the website for the millionth time finding all the same horrible, underpaying jobs that were here when I looked this morning. I’ve been searching for over a week and haven’t come across anything that doesn’t make me want to hurl or slit my throat.
How can people offer such low pay for such shit jobs?
I lock my phone and slide it back into my pocket, turning to check how much longer my laundry has to go before the spin cycle is done.
Usually, my mom is the one who sits at the laundromat because I’m at work. But now I’m not working, and her seamstress job is taking off nicely, so she is busier than usual. I’m proud of her.
But I’m not proud of myself. This money Iacquiredwill not last forever and I’m doing my best to stretch it. But I’ve learned from the past - you might feel rich now - but in a month or two you will be counting all the things you wasted money on.
I need a job. It’s not a choice.
