And still, nothing.
No call.
No visits to his own home.
No rough hands pinning me to the wall and growling threats in my ear.
Just me in the most beautiful gilded cage.
The only proof he hadn’t vanished off the face of the earth was the note he’d left and the handful of texts I’d gotten since.
The morning after our conversation, I’d woken to the whoosh of the elevator door closing. A disorienting silence had followed. He’d left a note on the kitchen island, written in bold, masculine handwriting:
I’ll be away for a little while, but I promise I will be back. You need time to heal, and I need time to deal with the war I ignited against Delgado. You’ll be safe and well cared for. Expect company from Henri Delacroix, one of my men, and Dr. Maria St. Clair, a therapist. Text me if you need anything. Trust me, Lacey.
—N
Trust me, Lacey.
The moment I’d read that last line, the memory of the way my real name had rolled off his lips set off a spark that made me ache for a future I’d never dared to imagine.
Like he’d branded it into my heart, I craved to hear it again.
But that didn’t stop the shock from rolling through me. He’d just…left? After everything we’d shared, everything I’d told him about my family, my past, the hell I’d been through? He’d held me, whispered in my ear, called me strong and beautiful—and then ghosted me.
The worst part was that I had no idea when Nik would return.
After finding the note, I had stormed straight to the guest suite and picked up my phone to try to reach out to someone—anyonewho could help—only to find thatThe Wolfwas the only contact in it. All my texts? Gone.
Most of my apps? Deleted.
It was like my phone had been gutted.
How the hell had he gotten into my phone and done this?
Of course, he was a big-time hacker, so making changes to my phone was probably child’s play to him.
I couldn’t even send an email. Couldn’t order a pizza. Couldn’t message Nat or Jae or even look up what the hell a person was supposed to do when being held hostage by a stalker-turned-bodyguard-turned-I-don’t-know-what-he-was-anymore.
For spite, I’d changed his contact name toPrison Wardenand sent him a text.
Controlling much?!
He’d replied instantly.
Be a good girl and get some rest.
In response, I’d fired back the woman-facepalming emoji. I mean, the audacity of that man!
I had gone to the elevator and tested it of course. Still a no-go.
Tried the stairwell door. Locked tighter than a vault.
So, I’d texted my captor again.
What if there’s a fire?
You’re fine,he had responded.
