And that knife I'd just driven through Marco's palm, still stuck in the tabletop, blade buried deep in the wood.
When I walked out of the conference room, my phone rang.
Elsa.
I answered.
"Sir."
"What?"
"Mrs. Visconti..." Her voice was shaking. "She's gone."
My world stopped for a moment.
"What?"
"She left this morning. Carrying a suitcase, said she was going out. I asked if she needed a car arranged, and she said no. Then she just...just left."
"How long ago?"
"About..." Her voice shook harder. "About five hours ago, sir. I thought she was just going out to clear her head, but I just checked her room, all her things are gone."
I hung up.
Rushed out of the building, ran to the parking lot, got in the car, drove toward the manor.
The whole way, my mind was blank.
She left.
She really left.
Because of me.
Because last night I treated her like an animal.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
When the car stopped at the manor entrance, the tires left a black streak on the ground.
I jumped out, rushed through the door, up the stairs.
Elsa stood in the hallway. Seeing me, she opened her mouth.
"Sir!"
I ignored her.
Went straight to her room.
The door was half open.
I pushed it.
