Carmine's POV
I don't need to reach for her to know she isn't there. I felt her get out of bed, but I thought she was just using the restroom. I let my guard down. I became so comfortable in bed with her, loving the feeling of having someone there to warm the usually cold and unforgiving side that I didn't think she wouldn't return.
Furious doesn't begin to describe what I feel, or worse; it's nearly nine in the morning. I never sleep in that late. Business doesn't get done, and money doesn't get made, but right now, I don't care about any of that.
Where is Delilah?!
Throwing the covers off, I swing my legs over the bed and slip on my sweatpants, barreling out of the room and down the hall.
"Well, good morning, sunshine," Ari greets, crunching on a piece of bacon. "Marie made a wonderful breakfast..."
"I don't give a fuck about breakfast. Where is Delilah?"
He hides a smile as he eats, and that's how I know he knows something.
