Ray slammed down his phone.

Leaning on his oversized mahogany desk, he took a deep breath, pushing down his anger. He barely succeeded.

“Howie!” he called. The door to his office swung open, and his right-hand man stepped through.

“Yes, boss?” Howie was a big man, chosen specifically for his intimidating appearance. He doubled as a bodyguard when Ray needed one, which these days was every time he stepped outside.

Howie also wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, a fact Ray found very convenient. He followed orders, but wasn’t smart enough to question Ray’s instructions, or think he could pull a coup on Ray and take over.

“Any sign of her?” He didn’t need to specify the her to which he referred. There was only one woman in his life who had disappeared. The same one who’d taken half his money.

His fucking wife.

“No, boss,” Howie informed him. “We’re still looking.”

That bitch must have planned her escape well. No other way she could have got away so cleanly if it had been a spur of the moment thing. While he’d lavished her with gifts and praise—and the occasional reprimand when she got out of hand—she’d been plotting to steal from him. Betray him.

And Ray intended to make her suffer for it, as soon as he got his hands on her.

“What’s the holdup?” he snapped. “She’s one woman, and you have all my resources at your disposal. You can’t find one person who’s seen her?”

“No, boss.”

“She’s not a fucking criminal mastermind,” he growled. “She’s made a mistake somewhere. You need to find it.”

“Yes, boss,” Howie said with his usual calm. But something flickered in his eyes, something suspiciously like insolence. Ray’s nostrils flared as he again tried to calm himself. Under normal circumstances Howie would be punished for such an attitude. But for now, regrettably, Ray needed him.

“Just find her,” he said, and waved Howie away.

Howie gently pulled the door closed. The man was almost expressionless, which infuriated Ray as much as it pleased him.

As soon as the other man was out of sight, Ray paced across his office, polished shoes sinking into the thick carpet. It was a bad habit he’d developed, one that broadcast his nervous energy to anyone in the vicinity. But it helped him think, so he allowed the indulgence while he was alone.

His wife was only a means to an end. He didn’t care she was out of his life. She was disposable and had outlived her usefulness. If she hadn’t run away, he would have taken care of her himself before too long.

But his money? That was unacceptable.

Quite apart from the betrayal, which was offense enough to be punishable by death, he needed the fucking money back yesterday. He had an investor he needed to pay. And without that money, he didn’t have enough to cover it.

Which was a big fucking problem. Because the man Ray owed the money to was even less forgiving of debts than Ray himself.

Was Gia in the city? Or had she already left?

If she was smart, she would have left, but he didn’t put a great deal of faith in her intelligence. Plus, she didn’t know anyone outside of the city he owned. He’d made sure of that.

But he had eyes and ears all over the city, and no one had seen her since she’d left three days ago. Not even her mother. No way all his spies kept her from him. Even if she paid them off using the money she’d stolen, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to betray him, too.

They all knew what he was capable of. He’d demonstrated it enough.

Sick of his thoughts, he turned on the television, hoping he’d find news of his enemies being taken down. His contacts in the police force said a raid was imminent.

Not on any of his properties, of course. He paid them too well to let that happen. But while he was the biggest fish in town, he wasn’t the only one. For now. If the police on his payroll did as he’d instructed, he might soon be the true king of this city, with no competition in sight.

The news didn’t mention anything about the raids, so he tuned it out and focused on work. It had been piling up since he’d discovered Gia’s absence. He still couldn’t concentrate, stewing over Gia and her betrayal. He couldn’t let this stand.

And then, like a miracle from God, he was given a gift.

The news reported Gia Angelo had been in a plane crash in the mountains. They even gave an approximate area she might be in. Her face—beautiful, traitorous—flashed on the screen, alongside that of a man Ray assumed was the pilot. He wasn’t listening to the newscaster. He was too focused on his bitch of a wife.

He couldn’t wait to get his hands around her faithless neck.

“Howie,” he called again.

The door opened. “Yes, Boss?”

“Get the jet. We’re going on a trip.”