Page 138 of Angel

‘Oh, sweet mercy,’ the PR spin queen whispered, pulling her phone back out. ‘I’m making calls now.’

Di paced the hardwood floor, speaking in urgent, hushed tones to her high-level contacts.

Soon after, the townhouse doorbell rang.

I opened it to find a man in a suit standing on the mat, flanked by two uniformed medics.

‘Mr. Forrest,’ the stranger said, nodding once and revealing his badge while eyeing Pacek with wariness. ‘My name is Colin Parsons, and I’m the admitting director at Sens Private Rehab in Nashville. We received a briefing from Miss Di Montcliffe and Mr Rosedale.’

It seemed Reese had pulled favors to protect Evangeline again.

‘We’ll take Miss Rosedale with us and move her to our secure facility for her own safety.’

With a grim nod, I stepped aside to let them in.

Evangeline flipped her hair, attempting to flirt with one of the medics in front of me as if to spark jealousy in me.

I just shook my head at her, filled with a profound pity for her.

With an inhale, I turned on my heel and grabbed my keys from the counter.

‘She’s all yours, Di,’ I said, pausing at the threshold. ‘I’m done, and out, for good. Close the door after you.’

I strode out into the humid night air and to my truck, ripping away from the building with only one mission left in my soul: finding my wife.

I tore back to my house, tires screeching as I ripped up the asphalt driveway.

I bolted through the front door, yelling Roxy’s name, but the silence was deafening.

I ran to her bedroom, but her bags were gone, and so was her ID.

Fuck.

I raced to the art studio and found that most of her recent works in progress, along with her paints and easels, were also missing.

Her car wasn’t in the garage, and as I sped back to check the pool house, I passed the kitchen.

My chest seized when I spotted something on the counter.

The glowing ceiling lamp lit the quartz island, where two items sat.

One of them glinted as I slowed my roll and strode over.

I groaned at the sight of her rose diamond ring sitting on top of the marble counter.

Next to the ice lay a crisp sheet of paper.

My vision blurred as I scanned the text.

It’s clear Evangeline is still your priority, so I’m going to step out of your way. Let’s part ways here. Don’t try to contact me. Please respect my wishes on this. I’m done. I’ll sign the papers for our divorce as soon as you’re ready.

The final sentence wrecked me.

‘Fuckinhell!’ I roared, scrunching up and flinging the note away from me.

I stalked out of the house, slid into my Defender, and sped toward her old downtown apartment, pushing the truck to its limit.

When I pulled up, her building was dark.