Chapter 2

(Marcus's POV)

I got off the flight. It felt like an eternity to travel from Pennsylvania to Los Angeles.

I got in the car which was waiting for me.

"Where to go, Sir?" my driver Lance asked.

I curtly replied, "This is the address," and handed him the piece of paper with the written address on it.

A year. Finding my love took me a year.

The sun was setting when I peered out of the window. Not long after, the car soon came to a halt.

"Sir, this is the flat, and on the sec--"

I exited the vehicle before my driver could complete his words, giving him the go-ahead to leave. He carried out the directive.

I looked around to see empty liquor bottles strewn on the sidewalks and drunk individuals walking and gambling. I then turned to face the building. There were some cracks in it, and the paint was leaking out.

I shuddered at the notion of my fragile amore residing here since it appeared nasty.

I sighed and reminded myself that I would be returning Serena to our mansion shortly. I smiled as I climbed to the second floor of the building, where she resided.

Her flat door was locked when I glanced at it.

"Must be out for work," I thought to myself and decided to wait for her.

I looked at the door of her apartment to find it was locked.

I soon heard little feet stepping over the decaying wooden steps. My Siri was there, and the smell of her hit me like a ton of bricks. She had a vanilla scent with a rose undertone that I will never forget. I adore the way she smells.

She quickly came into view. She appeared frail, and her delicate skin appeared paler. She had a sloppy bun in her thick brown hair and appeared to be wearing somewhat worn clothing.

"Mi Amore."

As soon as these words skipped from my mouth, her chocolate brown eyes met with my pale blue eyes.

She took a step backward as her eyes widened in terror. A thousand daggers pierced my heart as I observed the terror in her eyes.

"My love..."

"W-what b-brings you here?" She stammered as she looked down at her shoes, which is one of the things she does when she is frightened or anxious.

"I am sorry," I began to apologize as the bile of sorrow and guilt rose in my throat.

She reacted angrily when I tried to move closer to her and stroke her soft cheeks. She had the impression that I was a plague or a contagious illness.

"Don't touch me," she said.

She was staring at me through her thick eyelashes with unshed tears in her large, brown eyes.

Before I had a chance to speak, I heard quick steps coming up to this floor. Then a man in my age range entered the frame.

He had green eyes and blonde hair. He sported a jacket. He was about six feet tall. He first turned his angry, disgusted gaze to me before moving it to my Siri.

He turned to her and softly muttered, "Siri."

As soon as she heard his voice, she turned towards him and rushed into his arms as if he was capable of protecting her from everything.

As soon as he began lovingly whispering in her ears, jealousy boiled through my body.

That was my right. Despite how badly I wanted to punch the man, I knew that I was to blame. I let go of my love.

But soon she will have her back in my arms where she belongs, I thought to myself.

"You look rather exhausted, so let's go inside the house."

The jerk spoke into my Siri's ear. She gave a small nod in response.

I stepped aside as he removed a key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. Seeing the key emerging from his pocket, many questions ran through my mind.

Did they share a home? What relationship they had? Was he a boyfriend of hers? Has she moved on?

With each new query, my envy increased.

The boy soon assisted Serena in sitting down on the nearby old couch after the door was opened.

He wiped the tears from her cheeks and added, "I will get you water." He then walked to the kitchen.

I stood there waiting for the man to leave us alone so that I could talk to my love.

I inquired, "Whose that boy?" because that was the first thing that sprang to me.

She spoke after a brief pause, but she was still glancing down. "Ryle," She whispered.

Before I could ask another question, Ryle returned carrying a glass of water and handed it to her.

He turned to face me while crossing his arms. He tried to appear intimidating, but he obviously failed because I was much taller and more muscular than him by about 3 to 4 inches.

"What brings you here Marcus Walton?" He asked coldly.

My fist tightened.

"How dare you talk to me in that tone of yours?" I questioned menacingly.

"I have every right to talk to you in that tone after what you did to Serena,"

Serena has thus told him the whole truth.

He asked again, "What brings you here?"

Ignoring him, I turned to face her, who was now staring right back at me with a trace of betrayal and pain in her eyes.

"Look, mi amore, I am extremely sorry and regretted what I have done to you. I had made the worst mistake of my life by divorcing you. I want to make things right, please give me another chance." I said sincerely.

I waited for a reaction as I gazed into her eyes.

"I can't," she mumbled.

But those words were enough to break my soul. Does she hate me that much? I went near her to touch her hands.

She flinched again as soon as my hands touched her. She quickly took off and hid behind that Ryle.

"Please, my love."

"Just go, just leave me alone!" She screamed in exasperation.

"Did you just hear what she said? Leave!" Ryle yelled through his clenched jaw.

He had no right to address me in such a manner. She has every right, and I am ready for it, but I can't stand this boy.

"Who are you to her?" I asked him with gritted teeth.

There was an awfully tense silence, Ryle and Serena shared a look before he replied.

"Her boyfriend."