AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Once the elevator stops, I run into our suite. I take my dress off, and something falls on the floor. I don't stop to see what it is as I slip into the hoodie and leggings I laid on the chair in the corner of the room. I place my dress neatly on the bed with my shoes next to it, then leave my phone on top of it. My heart beats loudly.
This is it.
I turn to the vanity, take a hair band, and put my hair in a low ponytail. I'll get it colored after I have the baby. I quickly grab the thick envelope lying on the vanity and smile sadly.
"Thank you, Lilly and Noah. I love you guys," I mumble. I looked inside the envelope, and see the new identification and passport with my new name, Sophie Rossi, as well as some cash. I tried to stick as close to my real name as possible. There is also a burner phone with only Noah's number on it. Damian will be watching Lilly and her phone for a while.
I take the keys to the old 15-year-old Ford parked at the service entrance, leaving the keys for the 8-year-old Honda in the envelope, ready for when I ditch the Ford just across the border to Canada. Hopefully, the other vehicle will get me to Texas. Then I shove the envelope in my bag, strap it to my body, and head for the terrace.
I climb down the steps on the fire escape and go into the room I purposely assigned to Luna, and I have to laugh. She's lying on her stomach, snoring.
I quickly put her trash can next to her bed, then sneak past her, just in case the sleeping pills I crushed into her drink when she wasn't looking—she was too busy flirting with Damian's associates—haven't fully kicked in. I exit the door, hanging a right to the service elevator. I press the button for the employee parking garage, put my hood up, and find my car. I get in after chucking my bag in the trunk, and then I drive off. I smile—a real smile—for the first time tonight as tears fall down my cheeks.
Goodbye, Damian.
ten
Damian – Age 27 – Three Years Later
I sit in the dimly lit strip joint the Bratva owns, drinking scotch as a half-naked blond-haired beauty rubs her panty-covered pussy over the limp dick in my pants. The bastard just does not want to know this woman. Even now, three years later, after finding my wife gone from our wedding reception, it just does not seem to want to cooperate. I've tried everything—finger-fucking chicks, having two chicks in my bed rubbing on each other—everything! And nothing works, unless I close my eyes and picture my printsessa's gorgeous dark blue eyes and luscious curvy body, then the fucker comes to life. Still, I never do get off because as soon as I open my eyes or feel the body underneath or above me, it goes down again. It has to be her. I know this isn't doing me any favors, having these sluts who love sex more than the average man grind on me, but I can't breathe without her.
I need to forget just for half an hour a night.
I do this almost every night now when I'm not on the hunt for men trying to take over our family's territory. Then, during the day, when I'm not training to take over from my father and Stefano, I scorch the earth for my wife but never find her! I even harassed her best friend Lilly, but she says she doesn't know, which is bullshit. Sofia had help disappearing, and I bet you my left nut, the Irish fucker, is the one she went to. He may be one of my closest friends now, but he's still a fucker. He just smirks at me every time I ask!
After hacking into his phone, I know she contacted him two days before the wedding. We couldn't get anything else from his cell, and he's unwilling to help. I do admire his loyalty to my wife, though.
Where the fuck is she?
Once the slut gets off, orgasming on my thigh, I tuck a few hundred bills in her wet thong, then get up to leave. Alexandr is waiting for me, looking at me with concern. He used to come here for the women, but now he just stares at me, waiting for me to flip my shit again like I did last week when one of the women mentioned me being a free agent. The same thing happened with Candice a few months after my wedding. Alexandr hacked into her phone, and she had several videos and pictures of us in her email from Mindy that were forwarded to my wife but weren’t delivered. Her email was disconnected on the day of the wedding. She’d planned to leave me after the wedding.
I walk into our new home on Elm Street and go straight upstairs.
I strip, then turn on the shower in our marble bathroom that Sofia picked out before Victoria took over decorating our old house. I knew my wife hated that house, but bought it anyway because I was a fucking idiot.
I climb in the shower and wash the stripper scent away before I get out and dry off, then climb into bed naked. I sigh. After I moved our stuff here, her smell is no longer lingering around. The rest of the house is furnished from Sofia’s Pinterest board, something she filled with all the things she wanted in our home. Too bad Victoria got her way instead.
I lay on my back. Memories return like they do when I'm alone with my thoughts every night—how I once fucked anything that moved, the guilt of betraying Sofia over and over again, even in our own home. I remember how she used to look at me with love, and then I remember how different she was on our wedding day. I noticed, but I didn't question her about it. I was too cocky.
I fall asleep to memories swirling around my mind. When sleep claims me, my dreams haunt me.
I pull Candice away from me now that she's had her fill. I tell her I have to get back to my wife, and she turns red with rage. Still, I turn around and return to the reception with my brother and friend following while she screeches like a banshee as my men drag her and Mindy out of the hotel. I don't understand why she's acting like this; she wasn't the only one I was fucking on the regular, and she knew it, too.
When I get to the reception, something is not right. I can feel it deep in my gut. I look around and see people are drunk out of their minds, which I expected, but my wife is nowhere to be found. I find her Aunt Emilia near the bar and corner her quickly.
"Hey, have you seen Sofia?"
She turns and gives me a grin, patting my cheek. "Such a handsome boy. My niece doesn't deserve you or the title of queen. You should have married my daughter." I cringe. "I saw Sofia helping her to her room; Luna was a little tipsy." She kisses my cheek, her eyes looking mischievous, then turns back to the bartender, giving him bedroom eyes. I know she must be lonely; her husband, whom she she was forced to marry twenty years ago, turned out to be a traitor to the family. She shot him herself while smiling, and I can never remember his name.
I run upstairs to find my printsessa. I did tell her I wanted to retire early. I smirk, thinking maybe she'll be naked, waiting for me, until I remember her apparently helping Luna. Still, Emilia also looked at me with a glint in her eyes. Great. I better check there first, just in case. The last thing I need is the little slut accidentally slipping that I fucked her.
I get to her room a few minutes later, and her door is a jar, so I go in. Her window is wide open, and she's passed out on her stomach, and a trash can has been placed by the side of the bed. Sofia must have brought her to bed, then. I shake my head and close her window, then turn to leave. I shut the door behind me, return to the elevator, and press the penthouse button, humming impatiently to get to my bride.
When I finally get to my room, I open the door, and the living area is in a dim light, making me smirk. I look to the right and see the bedroom door open and go to it, smiling like a loon.
"Wife?" I open the door fully, but all there is is her wedding dress laid neatly on the bed, her shoes placed next to it on the floor, and her phone lying on top of it. I notice her grandmother's clip on the floor, and I pick it up before looking toward the bathroom. It's dark, and the door is wide open. What the fuck?
I slowly walk toward the bed, place the clip on the dress, and pick up her phone. I press the button on the side, and two saved videos show on the screen. I start the most recent video, and voices play out loud.
