193

193
Alaric’s POV
The low hum of my men murmuring among themselves was a faint backdrop to the chaos in my mind. I stood at the desk, my fists pressed against the mahogany surface, staring at the map spread before me. My eyes traced the routes leading to Cruz territory, my mind calculating every possible move Alonso might make next.
The door to the study pushed open and closed. I could hear light, precise footsteps and I instantly knew who it was without even having to look up.
“You better have helpful information if you’re cutting through my time like this,” I muttered flatly.
Then Allesio’s voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. “She’s gone.”
I froze, my head snapping up to meet his panicked expression. “What do you mean, gone?”
“I checked her room,” he said, his tone tight with worry. “She’s not there. She’s not anywhere in the house.”
My blood ran cold, dread washing over me like a tidal wave. My mind instantly jumped to the worst-case scenario: Alonso.
“She wouldn’t have just left,” I snapped, already moving toward the door. “Not after everything that’s happened.”
Marcus appeared in the hallway, her face pale. “What’s going on?”
“Emilia’s missing,” I said, brushing past him.
Her gasp echoed behind me, but I didn’t stop. I barked orders to my men as I stormed through the house, my voice sharp and commanding.
“Search the perimeter. Check every exit, every camera. If she’s been taken-”
“She wasn’t taken,” Allesio interrupted, his tone hesitant.
I turned to him, my eyes narrowing. “What do you know?”
“She… she left willingly. The gate logs show a cab picked her up less than an hour ago.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at him, disbelief and fury warring within me. “You’re telling me she just walked out? No one stopped her?”
“She must’ve slipped out unnoticed,” he said, looking genuinely regretful. “I don’t think she wanted anyone to stop her.”
My jaw clenched, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “Where the hell would she go?”
No one had an answer, and the silence only fueled my frustration.
“Damn it!” I roared, slamming my fist into the nearest wall. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain through my hand, but I barely felt it.
Marcus’s voice was soft but firm. “She’ll come back, Alaric.”
I turned to her, my eyes blazing. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling-what danger she could be in.”
“She’s not stupid,” Marcus said, seemingly calm while I was boiling inside. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“Does she?” I shot back. “Because this-” I gestured to the empty space around us- “isn’t just reckless. It’s suicidal.”
Before Marcus could respond, the sound of the front door opening reached us. I whipped around, my heart pounding.
And there she was.
Emilia stood in the doorway, her coat damp from the rain and her hair clinging to her face. She looked tired and exhausted. Her eyes met mine and I could see that familiar flash of guilt and stubbornness in them.
I closed the distance between us in three strides, my hands gripping her arms before I could stop myself. “Where the hell were you?”
“Let go of me,” she said, her voice low but steady.
“Not until you tell me where the hell you went,” I demanded, my grip tightening slightly.
She yanked her arms free, glaring at me. “I went to see Alonso.”
The room fell silent, her words ringing in my ears loud and clear over and over again. I stared at her, my mind struggling to process what she’d just said.
“You what?” I finally managed, my voice dangerously calm.
“I needed answers,” she said, crossing her arms. “Answers you wouldn’t let me get.”
“Are you out of your mind?” I snapped. “You went to him alone? After everything he’s done?”
“He hasn’t done anything to me,” she shot back. “And maybe if you weren’t so consumed by your vendetta, you’d see that.”
The accusation stung, but I didn’t let it show. “He’s manipulating you,” I said, my voice hard. “You don’t know him like I do.”
“And you don’t know him like I do,” she countered.
I stared at her, disbelief coursing through me. “You’ve known him for what? A few days? And suddenly you think you can trust him?”
“It’s not about trust,” she said, her voice rising. “It’s about understanding where I come from-who I am.”
“You know who you are,” I said, my tone softer but no less firm. “You’re Emilia. You’re mine. That’s all that matters.”
She shook her head, her expression unreadable. “It’s not that simple, Alaric.”
“It is to me,” I said. “And it should be to you.”
Her eyes softened, but there was still a flicker of defiance there. “You can’t control me, Alaric. I’m not a possession.”
“I’m not trying to control you,” I said, my frustration bleeding into my voice. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“And I’m trying to figure out who I am,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “Can’t you see that?”
The vulnerability in her tone cut through my anger like a knife. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “And what if you’d been hurt?” I asked quietly. “What if you hadn’t come back?”
“But I did,” she said softly.
I looked at her, the tension between us finally easing. “Don’t ever do that again,” I said, my voice firm but gentle.
She nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m sorry.”
I stepped closer, tilting her chin up so she’d meet my eyes. “You scared the hell out of me, Emilia.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“I told you we’d go together. You could have at least let me come with you,” I murmured.
“I know you and Alonso would break into a fight the moment you see each other. I couldn’t risk that,” she replied with a sigh.
I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly as if to assure myself she was really there. She didn’t resist, her arms wrapping around me as she rested her head against my chest.