I walked down the steps of New York Presbyterian Hospital and headed toward the parking garage. Hale’s mother was a little banged up, but it was nothing serious. After ensuring she would have aides around the clock, I left Hale alone to visit with his mother. Her mind was absent today, her clouded vision a telltale sign that she was somewhere else. Nonetheless, Hale felt obliged to stay with her, so I told him to take as much time as he needed. Samuel had already been briefed on the situation and I assigned him to some of Hale’s duties accordingly.

By the time I climbed into the Tesla, it was nearing eight o’clock. Justine’s three-story brownstone condominium was on the Upper West Side, located about four miles from the hospital. Traffic would be light at this time of day, so I knew it wouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes to get to her place. However, time had a funny way of playing tricks on the mind, especially when you’re trying to put something off. The drive seemed to only take seconds. Before I knew it, I was parked outside her home.

As I stood in front of the brick structure, the knot of dread that formed on the drive over seemed to sink lower in my gut. I wanted her to be home, but I was also afraid of what she would say. I almost didn’t want her to confirm Charlie’s story, as once she voiced her betrayal out loud to me, there would be no going back.

I walked up the steps and knocked on the door. No answer. Rather than knock again, I pulled out the key I had for her condo and unlocked the door. The lights were off, making it clear that she wasn’t home. I flipped on the light switch in the entryway so that I could survey the interior.

Everything inside was chic and modern, decorated in various shades of white, silver, or gray. There was the occasional splash of color here or there, but other than that, the interior of her home reminded me of the décor at Stone Enterprise.

I smiled to myself, reminded of the memory of the first project I gave to Justine. It was right after I purchased the building that housed Stone Enterprise. When I acquired the fifty-story building, my knowledge about the Federated-May merger helped to negotiate a lower than fair selling price. The building was a steal, but it needed a lot of updating if I wanted to lease out some of the floors at a premium rate. Justine had been the one to find Kimberly Melbourne.

Together, floor by floor, they worked tirelessly to make Cornerstone Tower one of the poshest office buildings in the city. After seeing Justine’s organization and exceptional results with the project, I decided to appoint her as head of the Stoneworks Foundation. It gave her something to do, as well as offset the stipend I gave her every month for her living expenses. I played it off as a win-win situation for the both of us. Although, the truth of the matter was that I had ulterior motives for keeping her close. By working with her on a regular basis, it allowed me to keep an eye on her when she was married to Charlie.

I walked further inside the apartment, looking for some sort of clue for where she might have gone. Nothing appeared out of place. However, framed pictures on the mantel of the fireplace caught my attention. They didn’t use to be there. Curious, I went over to look at them and picked up the first snapshot.

It was a faded Polaroid of Justine with my mother. From the looks of it, it was taken at the home of my grandparents. Justine couldn’t have been more than three years old in the picture. My mother appeared to be laughing, her eyes alight with humor.

That would have been before her first trip to the hospital. Before the asshole beat her to a bloody pulp.

My mother’s blue eyes, eyes that matched my own, never shone bright after that day. I swallowed the lump in my throat and moved on to the next picture. Both Justine and I were in this picture, with my mother in between us looking down at me. Even in the picture, I could see the love in her eyes. Fall leaves were scattered around us and I recalled the day it was taken. My mother, grandmother, and Hale’s mother had taken Justine and me to Central Park. We had a picnic of peanut butter and apples, Justine’s favorite food. Even now, I could almost taste it. I could nearly smell the crisp autumn air.

I wondered where Justine had gotten the pictures from. I wanted to feel bitter about seeing them, but I couldn’t. The expression on my mother’s face in both pictures showed how much she adored us. The thickness in my throat tightened and I had to blink back the moisture in my eyes. I couldn’t afford a moment of weakness.

Where are you, Justine?

I set the picture down and shook my head in an attempt to rid myself of the memories. I had to get a grip. Looking at the old pictures was like ripping a scab off a wound, but there wasn’t time to reminisce. And there certainly wasn’t time to become emotional. There was too much at stake.

I walked upstairs and into her bedroom. I opened the closet doors and found her clothes neatly lined up on hangers. The bed was made, the comforter pristine and crisp. Nothing seeming out of place. I went into her bathroom, but there wasn’t even so much as a toothpaste smudge in the sink. Unable to find any sort of clue for her whereabouts, I headed back downstairs to the kitchen.

Once again, I found everything to be neat and tidy. There wasn’t a glass in the sink or a food crumb on the counters. It was almost surreal, as if nobody lived here at all. If I hadn’t already seen the clothes in her closet, I may have actually believed that.

I looked to the ceiling and reached up to rub my temples. A part of me expected that she wouldn’t be here. But another part of me hoped to find her curled up in her bed, fraught with worry over the interview Charlie gave. I didn’t know if she knew about it, but she had to have. It was the only explanation for her disappearance. I truly believed that Justine was running scared.

I turned to make my way out the of kitchen, disappointed that I wasn’t able to find any answers. I paused when I saw a small scrap of paper under the kitchen table. Bending to retrieve it, I saw that it was a receipt for a parking garage in Brooklyn. Yesterday’s date and time stamp was printed on the top.

Brooklyn? Why the fuck would she be in Brooklyn?

I pocketed the receipt, unsure of what to think. I only knew that as soon as Hale was back, I would ask him to look into it. Perhaps there were traffic cams in the area that would reveal something. Between Hale and Gavin, my ingenious computer tech, they were bound to come up with some answers.

Just as I turned the key to lock up, my cell rang. I glanced at the screen. It was Matteo.

“What’s up, Matt?”

“Hello, my friend! Have you seen the papers?”

My stomach dropped. Hale had assured me that he stalled the publication of Charlie’s interview.

“The papers? What about them?”

“The reviews!” he exclaimed, sounding completely exasperated.

I breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly realizing what he was talking about. He was calling about the restaurant.

“The reviews,” I repeated. “No, I haven’t seen them yet. Sorry. It’s been a hectic day.”

“You’re killing me! Look them up, man. They are good. Really good actually.”

“That’s great to hear, Matt.”

My voice was detached, even to my own ears. I didn’t mean to sound like I didn’t care. I had a lot invested in his success, but I just couldn’t feel his excitement at that particular moment.

“What’s wrong?” Matteo asked, obviously picking up my tone.

“Nothing. Just tired,” I told him and forced myself to match his enthusiasm. “I think we need to celebrate. What do you say?”

“I think that’s a great idea. Let’s plan for Friday if you’re free. The restaurant closes at nine. We can hit a club or something. One of the ones Allyson goes to maybe. Check with Krystina and maybe the four of us can go out together.”

I raised my eyebrows as I climbed into the Tesla. I was sure that we would not be going to any club that Allyson frequented. If I was going to go out, we would do it my way. Still, his mention of Allyson made me pause. Switching over to Bluetooth, I continued the conversation and pulled out of the parking space.

“Allyson,” I said, letting her name hang in the air as a statement rather than a question.

“What about her?”

I smirked at his evasion. He knew exactly what I was talking about.

“What’s your interest in her?”

“She’s a cool girl. We have fun together. That’s all.”

“Why do I think there’s more to it?”

I heard Matteo sigh through the line.

“Don’t over think it. Really, there’s nothing between us. She’s not the one for me.”

“If you say so,” I said disbelievingly. If there was something going on between the two of them, they were both being very tight lipped about it. “I’ll talk to Krystina, but I’m sure Friday will be fine. I’ll give you a buzz later in the week and we can work out the details.”

“Sounds good. Ciao!”

After I ended the call, I texted Krystina to let her know I was headed home.

She didn’t respond, but I could imagine the smirk on her face after reading my reply. She would probably say that sex was always on my brain. It was, but I couldn’t help it with her. It was just so goddamned good. However, sex was far from my mind at that moment. Mental exhaustion was hitting me hard. The chill I felt at Justine’s had slowly crawled back into my bones after I ended the call with Matteo. Now, I just wanted to get home to Krystina. I needed her warm body wrapped around mine more than ever before.

Once I reached my building, the elevator’s ascent to the penthouse seemed to take impossibly long. When the doors finally opened, I hurried inside, eager to wrap my arms around the woman I loved. To feel her. I called out to her but she didn’t answer. I kicked off my shoes and loosened my tie as I made my way to the kitchen. That’s where I found her.

She was in front of the long marble counter, her back facing me, as she prepared a light dinner for us. I could see the outline of her iPod in the back pocket of her snug jeans. Earbuds were in her ears and her hips slowly swayed to music I couldn’t hear. Sandwich and salad fixings were spread over the counter, but I wasn’t even hungry for it.

Damn, I could watch her for hours.

She had such a tiny waist, but it was followed by curves that made me hard enough to drive nails. The gentle side to side movement of her hips made me want to fuck her and the independent questioning mind of hers that challenged every dominant instinct I possessed.

My earlier thoughts about not wanting sex quickly dissipated as I came up behind her and encircled her into my arms.

“Oh!” she gasped. She plucked the buds from her ears and draped the cord around her neck. “You scared me. I didn’t even hear you come in.”

She turned in my arms to look up at me. I leaned in, buried my face in her neck, and breathed deep.

“I could have watched your sexy hips move for hours. What were you listening to?” I asked.

“Rise Against,” she told me.

I pulled away, took one of the earbuds, and placed it in my ear. “Roadside” was playing, a male and female duet about separating lies from truths. How much the song seemed to mirror my own life was ironic.

I silently watched Krystina as I listened to the song for another few moments. I thought about how she always related everything to music. In a way, she had passed her love for music on to me, as I found myself choosing music to fit my mood more than I ever had before.

“Interesting song choice,” I quietly observed. I returned the ear pierce to her and she shrugged.

“It’s a good tune,” she dismissed. “I made sandwiches.”

She was changing the subject, but I didn’t mind. Instead, I leaned into her once more.

“I don’t want sandwiches. I want you,” I groaned into her ear.

“So why don’t you have me?” she suggested. My cock instantly went rigid.

She reached up and laced her fingers through my hair, sliding through and tugging slightly. Her fingers on my scalp never felt so good. I pulled her closer, until my erection was pressed against her firm stomach.

I expected her to ask about Justine, but she didn’t. Instead, she just melted into me and held me tight. I closed my eyes at her touch, moved and aroused by her display of understanding and affection. It made me want her all the more. And now. The food could wait. I needed her long legs wrapped around my waist. My dick was now throbbing, aching. I wanted to take her to bed and press her roughly to the mattress. So that’s what I did.

I lifted her and carried her to the bedroom. We shed our clothing without saying a word. We didn’t have to. She knew what I needed. I crawled over her body and widened her legs, dominating her and taking what I wanted. She gave willingly as I shoved into her hard. I fucked all the pain, betrayal, and anger out of my body. I used her to feel good, and she let me.

The pain I felt while at Justine’s apartment was replaced by pleasure. The betrayal was replaced by affection. My anger dissipated into passion as I rocked into her. Like the song, I was separating the lies from the truth. And Krystina was my truth. My only truth.

I pushed my mind into a freefall of orgasmic oblivion so that I could no longer think. When Krystina’s nails bit into my biceps, I felt the only thing I could feel when I was with her. I felt alive.