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“I don’t want to discuss this here,” I hissed, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Ryleigh, talk to me.”
I looked around for a room to duck into, noticing a pair of French doors. I grabbed Oliver’s hand and pulled him inside. I felt around for a light switch and found one near the door. The room was furnished with dark leather couches and walls of bookcases, some of them empty.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice low and urgent.
“Lara.”
He gritted his teeth. “What did that vapid bitch say to you?”
“She said as long as we kept having sex, you would stay interested in me. And that once I got pregnant, it was over. Why would she say that?”
Oliver’s face tightened, and he began chewing on the corner of his lip. “I have no idea,” he said, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, perhaps.
“Oliver,” I pressed, stepping closer. “Is there any truth to it?”
“No, of course not. You know how careful I am.”
“Then why?”
“I have no idea why she would say that. She’s trying to get under your skin and it’s working.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. It was the start of a new year, and I was already fucking up. But Lara had me curious. What did she know about my soon to be husband that I did not?
“I’m sorry. Can we just go home?”
“Yes. I’d like to spend some time alone with you.”
Oliver led me to get our coats, handing the attendant the ticket he was given at the beginning of the night.
“Aren’t you saying goodbye to your friends?”
“It’s not necessary. Wilmer is surrounded by a few ladies and I’m sure he won’t miss us.”
Vlad came to pick us up a few minutes later which made me wonder where he was. It seemed that he never had time off.
Chapter 17
Oliver
"What the fuck do you mean he disappeared?" I barked into the phone, frustration simmering beneath the surface.
"He just did. He’s not on St. Croix and we haven’t heard from him," Vlad's voice crackled through the speaker.
I paced my office, tension coiling in my muscles as I listened to the update. Two of Vlad's security agents were supposed to be keeping a close eye on Jonah after his bar brawl incident. I thought we had nipped his reckless behavior in the bud, but clearly, I was wrong.
This time, Jonah had gone further, stealing thousands in cash from his fellow workers before vanishing into the night on a supply boat bound for St. Croix. Security had searched, but he was nowhere to be found.
"Dammit! I don’t need this shit right now," I muttered to myself, feeling the weight of impending deadlines and my looming wedding press in on me. "Have you checked the airlines?" I demanded.
"Jonah doesn’t have ID. Charles took his wallet when he arrived on Fox Island," Vlad replied.
"Then he found some other transportation. Keep looking, and I want a report in the next twenty-four hours," I ordered before abruptly ending the call.
Anxiety clawed at my stomach, a sensation I hadn’t felt in years. Ryleigh was usually the one calming me down, not the other way around. With Jonah missing, Caruso would undoubtedly exploit the situation to get to her.
Tyler Barnes was another headache I didn't need. His relentless pursuit of Ryleigh's father's murderer was putting her in danger, and I couldn't let that happen. I escorted her to view a grainy video Tyler had enhanced, watching her break down as she failed to recognize the man.
