Now all I had to do was capture that damn cockroach of a man and bring Sophie in for her sweet, sweet revenge.
***
On my way back up to the suite, Paulie turned to me, an apologetic look on his face.
“I should apologize for taunting Sophie. I had no idea the lingering effects something from our childhood would have on her.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Is that your version of an apology?”
“Sorry, man. It’s not a situation I find myself in often.”
I snorted in disbelief. “You should be apologizing to her.” I shouldered past him to step onto the elevator, but paused. “But thanks. What you and D have found means a lot to me.” It was all I said before the doors closed between us, the elevator taking me back up to Sophie. I sagged against the metal wall. I was tired—exhausted, actually. All I wanted was to curl up in bed with my woman and forget about all the noise.
The taste of revenge was thick on my tongue as I stepped back into the suite, but I paused as the door shut when an eerie silence greeted me.
“Sophie?” No response.
My heart pounded as I searched each room only to come up empty. As if this day could get any fucking worse.
“Sophie!” I called, louder this time. Still nothing. The empty suite seemed to mock me, the scent of her perfume no longer in the air.
“Fuuuuuck.” The word dragged out of me as I picked up the decorative glass bowl sitting on the coffee table in the living room and threw it. It shattered, skittering pieces across the marble floors.
I crunched through the glass to the bedroom, taking note that her bags were gone. Back in the kitchen, I realized my credit card was missing, too. Good. At least I knew she wasn’t just walking away from it all. But of fucking course, I had to pull the bodyguards off our room, allowing her to slip away unnoticed. Now, where did she go? Another hotel?
I dug my phone out of my pocket, hoping maybe I’d missed a call or text from her, but nothing. Panic and frustration burned bright and hot in my chest. I opened my credit card app, thinking maybe she had bought something traceable. Sure enough, a large airline purchase sat pending.
She was going home? She was so upset that she couldn’t even fucking wait to finish our conversation? I told her I loved her and she went home? She had a medical emergency today and she felt the most appropriate response to it all wasto go home?
My lungs constricted, my pulse fucking rioting. I felt it crawling up my throat—the panic, the fury, the unbearable need todo something. My hands curled into fists, aching to hit something, to rip apart the thing keeping her from me.
Because this wasn’t just space. It was distance. It was her pulling away. It was something I couldn’t fucking stand.
But then I exhaled, tilting my head to the ceiling. Forced my fists to loosen. This was us. The games, the push and pull, the inevitable collision. We didn’t exist in softness—we burned, we wrecked, we tore each other apart just to put the pieces back together. She wanted space? Fine. I’d let her think she had it.
Until I decided otherwise.
Which would be as soon as Chavez was in my grasp.
41
Sophie
Istumbled out of the cab, the cacophony of the city hitting me like the stench of week-old garbage. New York City. The city that haunted me was a far cry from the sleek hotel facade that towered over me now, its glass windows reflecting a warped image of the dark streets I thought I’d left behind yet couldn’t seem to escape for long. Between my mom, Callie, and Maverick, I was back here more than I ever thought I would be.
I squared my shoulders, ignoring the pull to go back to my apartment, where memories lurked in every corner like cobwebs. Instead, I marched through the automatic doors and into the air-conditioned lobby. The scent of jasmine enveloped me. Rich reds and ornate gold accents decorated the space, and the man behind the front desk looked quite posh.
How fancy.
“Welcome to The Elysium,” the concierge greeted with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Thank you. I have a reservation for Sophie Reyes,” I said, fishing Maverick’s credit card from my wallet. The card felt like betrayal and power all at once.
“Of course, Ms. Reyes. We have a suite on the twenty-second floor, with a view of the park, reserved for you?” he confirmed, handing me the key card.
“Yep. Perfect.” My voice was a rasp, betraying the numbness I was desperately clinging to.
The ride up in the elevator was silent, save for the soft hum of the machinery. I leaned against the wall, my thoughts swirling dangerously. I wasn’t quitting the force, not yet. But God, I needed this break, away from my coldhearted, bitchy partner that I hated and her boss-pleasing mouth.
