“Hurry the fuck up,” Vlad yelled at the limo driver.

“Yes, sir,” came the bland response.

Vlad, who had sat up to yell into the intercom, leaned back against the limo seat.

He was antsy, anxious, a feeling that was unfamiliar.

He tried to figure out why.

Losing the shipment was an annoyance, and Warren’s incompetence was an even bigger one, but that wasn’t the root of his problem.

His instincts were telling him that something was going on.

He couldn’t put a name to it, couldn’t even really say why he thought so, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that things were starting to slip through his fingers.

He hadn’t felt this insecure in decades.

And he hated it.

He balled his hand into a fist, the action almost involuntary, but one that managed to ground him.

He’d fought too hard, for too long, to lose anything.

Warren would need to figure shit out, or he’d have to get involved.

The guy was a weasel, but he gave the business a sheen of respectability, one that was necessary these days.

Which fucking sucked.

He had to wear suits and jump through hoops and pretend to be something he wasn’t.

Vlad knew the way the world really worked, knew that power, domination, were the only things that mattered.

But over the years he’d had to suppress that knowledge to try to fit in, to build something that would last far longer than he did.

And he wouldn’t lose it.

“We’re here, sir,” the driver said.

Vlad had been so distracted he’d lost track of where they were.

Something that wouldn’t have happened before.

He knew that but also ignored it. He wasn’t losing a step, he was just distracted.

And he had just the cure for that.

Certain that the limo was safely in the garage, Vlad got out.

For a split second he wondered why he took such care to be stealthy. It wasn’t like limos showed up at the townhouse complex all the time.

But just as quickly as the thought came, it went away.

He had more important things on his mind.

The anticipation that flowed through him whenever he came here was still there, more acute, edgier now given what had happened today.

He needed this and was definitely going to enjoy it.

Once inside, he went to the coat closet and pulled out item after item until he found what he had been looking for.

The silk scarf was a mix of blues, yellows, and purples, the colors always so nice against her dark skin.

He pulled the fabric taut in his hands, watching as it strained but didn’t give.

It was a beautiful thing, delicate, yet strong.

Kind of like her.

The anger in Vlad’s heated blood shifted, became a mix of excitement and what he could only assume was passion.

Yes, this was exactly what he needed.

She suffered so prettily, and the scarf was perfect around her neck, as was watching the panic in her eyes as she fought for oxygen, the relief when he finally let her take a breath.

The panic when he started the cycle all over again.

He made his way upstairs, excited now, but not so much that he didn’t notice the dust bunny in one corner.

He’d told the whore to clean up. He’d have to remind her what happened when he was forced to repeat himself.

First things first…

He pushed open the bedroom door, anticipation making his hands shaky.

He looked to where he expected her to be.

Saw nothing.

He blinked, knowing his eyes were deceiving him.

Looked again, saw that the spot was still empty.

Looked around the rest of the place, all of it equally empty.

He checked again just to be sure, his mind unwilling to believe the obvious.

She was gone.

He was unwilling to accept that.

She wouldn’t leave, was too scared to even think of doing such a thing.

But there was no denying the fact that she was gone.

Just like there was no denying the fact that he would get her back.

And make her pay.