Chapter 68 Sixty Eight
Salvatore had committed homicide. Cold-blooded murders of men who wore different faces of the devil. Men who kidnapped children. Men who raped innocent women. Men who murdered innocent people. Men who destroyed lives without a shred of remorse.
Every man he’d killed had given him a reason.
But never… Never because of jealousy. It was an emotion he hadn’t even known he was capable of feeling.
Well… There was always a first time for everything.
The bastard had his lips far too close to Mira’s ear.
Salvatore had quietly followed them after they slipped away from the ballroom and into one of the private lounges. He stood just outside the doorway where neither of them could see him.
One minute they were talking.
The next, Matthew leaned in until there was barely any space between them, whispering something that made Mira’s expression soften.
Salvatore’s jaw clenched. The bastard was standing too close. His eyes drifted to Matthew’s hand resting on the arm of Mira’s chair.
One more inch… Just one more inch and he’d touch her.
His fingers curled into a fist. How the fuck could she let another man get that close to her?
The thought barely left his mind before his phone vibrated. His gaze never left the room as he answered.
“Where the hell did you run off to?” Antonio asked.
Salvatore ignored the question completely.
“I want everything you can find on the man who is with Mira.”
A brief silence followed. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Sal—”
“You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
He ended the call before Antonio could argue.
His eyes settled on Matthew again.
Fifteen minutes.
That was exactly how long the bastard had to convince Salvatore he wasn’t a threat.
Otherwise… He’d become just another body.
Matthew noticed Mira wasn’t really listening anymore. “You keep looking over my shoulder,” he said.
“I don’t mean to,” Mira admitted.
He glanced behind him but saw nothing unusual.
“Are you expecting someone?”
“No.”
“You don’t sound convincing.”
Before she could answer, a waiter walked over carrying two glasses of champagne.
“Compliments of the host, sir.”
Matthew accepted one before looking at Mira.
“You want a drink ?”
She shook her head. “I’m working.”
He smiled. “Still can’t switch it off?”
“Can't help it.”
“I always admired that about you.”
Mira looked at him for a second, surprised. “You admired it?”
“I admired everything about you.”
The words landed between them. Neither spoke for a moment. Outside the lounge, Salvatore’s expression hardened.
Antonio still hadn’t called back. His patience was running dangerously thin. Matthew leaned back in his chair. “I heard you became an investigative reporter.”
“I did.”
“You always wanted the dangerous stories.”
“They’re the ones worth telling.”
He laughed softly. “You’re still the same.”Matthew lowered his eyes. “Damn, I've missed you.”
His phone buzzed. Across the hallway, Salvatore answered immediately.
“Talk.”
Antonio’s voice came through the speaker. “Matthew Hayes. Thirty-three. Former homicide detective.”
Salvatore’s eyes narrowed.
Former.
“Why former?” Salvatore asked
“He resigned three years ago,” Antonio replied
“Reason?”
“No official explanation.” Antonio
Salvatore’s gaze drifted back to the lounge. Matthew was saying something that made Mira actually laugh. Enough to make something ugly twist inside his chest.
Antonio continued. “There’s more.”
“I’m listening.”
“He was engaged.”
Salvatore’s expression remained unreadable. “To whom?”
Antonio hesitated. “…Mira Voss.”
Salvatore’s face became completely still. “They were engaged?” he asked quietly.
“According to the records, yes.”
His eyes never left Matthew. “When did it end?”
“Three years ago.”
“And?”
“Matthew vanished.”
Salvatore frowned. “Vanished?”
“As in… disappeared.”
“He left his badge. Closed his bank accounts. Sold his apartment.”
“And nobody looked for him?”
“They did.”
Antonio paused. “For almost a year.”
Salvatore’s instincts sharpened immediately.
“What happened?”
“No one ever found him.”
Across the room, Matthew reached across the small table. His hand rested gently over Mira’s.
Salvatore’s grip tightened around his phone. The crystal glass in his other hand cracked beneath the pressure.
Antonio heard it through the phone.“…Sal?”
A second crack echoed. "I’m hanging up.”
“Sal, don’t do anything stu—.”The call ended.
Salvatore slipped the phone back into his pocket. His eyes remained fixed on the hand resting over Mira’s. One thought echoed through his mind.
Take your hand off her.