Page 159 of Lovely Venom

“Unfortunately, that’s proprietary.” Ares brushes a piece of lint off his suit.

I always wondered if Ares had his men keeping tabs on me, even though I told him it wasn’t necessary. Two of his men used to frequent Black Velvet, but now that I think about it, I haven’t seen them in the last year—when, conveniently, Elias started showing up. The most likely conclusion I can draw is that Elias’s new position was watching over me.

Ares couldn’t have known this would happen, but I wouldn’t be in this mess if he’d just respected my request in the first place.

“It doesn’t matter,” Angelo tells Ares. “We expect that you’ll be handing him over to us.”

“I’d be happy to, if I knew where he was.” Ares shrugs. “It appears he’s gone rogue. He ditched his phone, and he’s cut contact with all of my men.”

“That’s convenient.” Mariella narrows her gaze at him.

“I have no reason to lie about it.” He eyes her. “I’m not in the business of keeping traitors around. Whether you kill him or I do makes little difference to me.”

“We’ll need whatever you have on him,” Cristian says. “And I want all the documentation he collected on Chantel.”

“Of course,” Ares answers, looking far too pleased with himself.

I can tell by the tension in Cristian’s body that he realizes Ares is up to something too. But that’s a problem for later.

“I do mean all of it,” Cristian reiterates. “Not a copy. Not what you pick and choose. I want anything you have from him.”

“And I’m happy to provide it.” Ares removes a flash drive from his pocket, holding it hostage as he glances between us. “I must say, I didn’t have you two getting together on my bingo card, but I’m rather liking this development. Wouldn’t you agree, Mariella?”

Mariella offers him a blank stare, knowing perfectly well he’s planning to use this situation to his benefit in some way.

“Well, I didn’t have fucking my way through Seattle on my bingo card either, but here we are,” she deadpans.

“Jesus, Mariella.” Angelo grimaces.

Ares’s smile falters for a mere second before he slips back into character. “I suppose none of us can say what’s on the horizon. Life is full of surprises.”

With that ambiguous threat, he hands the drive to Cristian and leaves—whistling as he goes.

32

CRISTIAN

“God, this is tedious,” Romeo groans. “If I have to read one more passage of his weird fantasies, I might actually lose my fucking mind.”

I scrape a hand over my face, silently acknowledging how monotonous this has been. The drive Ares handed over contained an entire year’s worth of documentation, and for the past six weeks, we’ve been combing through every detail that might lead us to Elias.

Our men have raided apartments, boats, storage units, and several vehicles—only to come up empty. All we’ve managed to learn is just how deep Elias’s delusions run.

He obsessed over everything from what color Chantel would paint their walls to how many blueberries she ate on any given day. Books she read, meals from her favorite spots, gifts for their “future” life together. He convinced himself they were dining together when he stalked her, or that when she glanced his direction at the club, she was sending him secret signals.

He’d also imagined himself in my place.

It was impossible to miss the pattern of escalation once I stepped back into her life. Between his rants about me getting in the way, he’d rewrite history, casting himself as the man at her side.

The evening of Marco’s party, he fantasized about tending to her ankle and taking her home himself. And when I started staying at her house, his entries described everything from what movies he thought they watched together to what they ate for dinner.

When she met me at Sanctum, things really took a turn. Up until that point, he’d expressed violent thoughts toward other men, but never her. That night, he documented all the ways he wanted to brutalize her as punishment for her perceived betrayal.

After reading that passage, I’ve never wanted to bloody my hands so much in my life.

I won’t sleep well until I do. But with so much evidence to sift through and few leads, I don’t know how long it will take. I only know that it will happen even if I have to go to the ends of the earth to find him.

“I can’t imagine he’d leave the area.” Romeo rocks back in his chair and stares up at the ceiling. “But he knows we’re combing the city. If he has any functioning brain cells left, that would be too much of a risk for him. It’s more likely he stockpiled what he needed, and he’s hunkering down somewhere. A cabin. A camper. Who the fuck knows.”