The Heiress' Revenge

Chapter 210: The Hunt for Ariana

Dante’s POV

I don’t remember the last time I slept since I confronted Ariana in her office; every time I close my eyes, I see her. I know there is something she’s hiding and not telling me, and I’m going to figure it out.

"Marcus?"

I looked up from the files spread across my desk. Marcus has been there throughout the finding Ariana phase, even though he’s tried so hard to convince me to let her go since she clearly doesn’t want us anymore, he has come to terms with the fact that I simply can’t let her go.

"Tell me you found something."

"Something." He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Not everything."

"I’ll take what I can get, just sit."

He didn’t sit, and that was the first red flag.

"The message came through a third party, one of our informants in London. He said it was delivered by someone who claimed to have direct contact with her."

"With Ariana."

"Yes."

"And?"

Marcus hesitated

"Just say it."

"Dante just let Ariana go."

"I said no." I pushed the tablet away without looking at it.

"You’re not listening to what I’m telling you."

"Because what you’re telling me is bullshit."

He didn’t flinch.

"I thought we’ve already established that I can’t move on, Ariana is in trouble, and I know it... There’s something she’s hiding and not telling me, and we’re going to figure out"

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because I know her." I pressed my palm against the cold glass. "The Ariana I knew...the Ariana I know she wouldn’t run unless she had no other choice, and she wouldn’t push me away unless someone was making her."

Marcus was quiet for a long moment. Then: "You think someone’s threatening her."

"I think someone made her disappear two years ago, and now they’re making her stay gone." I turned back to face him. "I want to know who."

"That’s going to take resources"

"Then get them."

"Dante, if she really doesn’t want to be found—"

"She wants to be found." The words came out harder than I intended. "She just can’t say it. Someone’s gagged her, Marcus. Someone’s holding a gun to her head, or worse, and she’s doing what she’s always done, protecting everyone else at her own expense." I walked back to the desk, pulling up the files I’d been buried in before he arrived. "I’ve been tracking something, and I’m not going to stop"

"Dante—"

"They’re an arms-dealing operation that is in Eastern Europe. Very private, very powerful, very good at making people disappear.... I had a beef with them, and even though it’s been years... part of me feels like they might be responsible"

Marcus straightened his expression, shifting from concern to something sharper. "And you think they’re connected to Ariana?"

"I think they’re the reason she ran... they’re using her to get to me... and now I’ve been making noise about finding her... I might as well have painted a target on her back."

"You think your search alerted them."

"I think I led them right to her."

Marcus ran a hand over his jaw. "I’ll put a team together, we’ll begin our search... if she really is in danger, the best thing you can do right now is back off.... Make them think you’ve given up."

"I can’t do that."

"You have to for her sake. If someone’s threatening her, every move you make could make it worse."

I knew he was right, and I hated that he was right.

"Two weeks," I said. "Give me two weeks of quiet digging, and then we reassess."

He nodded and left.

I sank back into my chair, staring at the photograph I kept in my desk drawer, the one I wasn’t supposed to have, the one I’d hidden away when everyone told me it was time to let go. Ariana on a beach somewhere, her hair tangled with salt and wind, laughing at something I’d said.

"I’m going to get to the bottom of this," I whispered to the empty room. "I’m going to bring you back home"

The door opened I didn’t look up.

"I told you, Marcus, I’m not—"

"It’s not Marcus."

Natasha’s voice.

I closed the drawer and looked up. She stood in the doorway, one hand resting on the swell of her belly, her eyes moving over the papers scattered across my desk like she was trying to read them from across the room.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Working."

"It’s three in the morning."

"I’m aware."

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "Marcus told me you’ve been at this for days... you’ve been—"

"I’m fine."

"No! You don’t have time for our child or me." The word landed between us like a slap.

"Please, Natasha, not now"

"Please, Dante, Ariana already made it clear that she doesn’t want this, just move on with me." She moved closer, her hand still on her belly. "We’re having a baby. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?"

I looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in days. She was carrying my child, one that wasn’t supposed to happen; she deserved better than a man who couldn’t let go of someone he loved.

"It means something," I said. "Of course it means something."

"Please, Dante, just give us a try"

"It’s not a competition."

"Isn’t it?" She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t notice the way you say her name in your sleep? I’m standing right here, and you don’t even see me."

"Natasha—"

She hissed and walked out before I could respond.

The door clicked shut behind her, and I was let alone yet again.

My phone buzzed. I grabbed it, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Unknown: Stop digging. You’re putting her in danger.