Chapter 6

MILO’S POV

The penthouse was too damn quiet, the kind of silence that screamed trouble. I sprawled on the leather couch, one leg slung over the armrest, my fingers drumming a restless beat against the whiskey glass in my hand. My cock twitched at the memory of Jake’s tight ass last night, the way he’d moaned and bucked under me, his body yielding to every brutal thrust. But now? The place was a fucking graveyard. No Jake. No trace of him. My gut churned, a toxic mix of rage and something I refused to name—something that felt too much like fear.

“Where the hell is he?” I snarled, my voice slicing through the stillness. I shot a glare at Michael, my right-hand man, who stood by the door, his broad frame tense, eyes flickering like he knew he was about to catch hell.

“Boss, I haven’t seen him since you left this morning,” Michael said, hands clasped behind his back, voice steady but wary. He knew better than to lie to me.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, the whiskey glass dangling between my fingers. “You’re telling me he just fucking disappeared? From my penthouse?” My tone was low, lethal, the kind that made men flinch. Michael didn’t, but his jaw tightened.

“Checked the cameras,” he said. “He left a few hours ago. Took the stairs, not the elevator. Looked like he was in a rush.”

“A rush?” I barked, slamming the glass on the coffee table, amber liquid splashing over the edge. “I told him to stay put. I ordered him.” My mind raced, replaying the note I’d left, the contract that bound him to me. Ten grand a month to keep his pretty ass in line, and he still fucking bolted? My blood boiled, but beneath it, a colder dread slithered in. Jake wasn’t stupid. He knew what running meant. He knew I’d hunt him down. So why the fuck would he risk it?

I stood, pacing the polished hardwood, my boots thudding with each step. The city skyline glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, mocking me with its indifference. “Where’s Nico?” I snapped, not breaking stride. “That old man better have something useful to say.”

Right on cue, the door swung open, and Nico shuffled in, his gray hair slicked back, eyes sharp despite the lines carved into his weathered face. He carried the weight of a man who’d seen too much and done worse. “Right here, boss,” he said, his voice rough, unbothered by my glare.

“Where the fuck have you been?” I stopped pacing, hands on my hips, staring him down.

Nico smirked, leaning against the wall like he had all the damn time in the world. “Cleaning up your mess, as usual. You know, the one where you fucked your target—Luca—and left a trail of bodies and bad blood?” He raised an eyebrow, daring me to argue. “Luca’s crew is circling, Milo. They’re pissed. Word’s out you took him out, and now they’re out for blood.”

I snorted, brushing it off, but my chest tightened. “Luca’s dead. I did my job. They can cry about it all they want—won’t change a thing.” I yanked the pistol from my waistband and tossed it to Michael. “Keep this safe,” I said, my voice clipped. I didn’t need a gun right now. I needed answers. “Jake’s gone. You know anything about that?”

Nico’s smirk faded, his eyes narrowing. “Gone? You sure he didn’t just step out for a breather?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Nico,” I said, stepping closer, my voice dropping to a growl. “He’s not here, and he didn’t leave a note saying ‘back in whatever.’ He’s gone.”

Nico straightened, his casual act slipping. “You think he ran off?”

I didn’t answer right away. My mind flashed to Jake’s face last night—those green eyes wide with fear and something else, something that made my cock hard and my chest ache. He’d begged me to stop, then moaned like he couldn’t get enough. He was mine, body and soul, whether he liked it or not. But running? That wasn’t just defiance. That was a death wish.

“He wouldn’t,” I said, more to myself than Nico. “He knows I’d find him. He knows what I’d do.” But the words felt hollow. Jake was a fighter, always had been. That fire in him was why I couldn’t let him go, why I’d chained him to me with that contract. Ten grand a month to keep him close, to keep him mine. But money didn’t buy loyalty. Not with someone like Jake.

Michael cleared his throat, cutting through the tension. “Boss, there’s something else. Cameras caught him heading toward the university district before he went off-grid. Could be school-related.”

“School?” I laughed, the sound bitter and sharp. “He’s got bigger problems than a fucking group project.” But the thought gnawed at me. Jake was desperate to finish that degree, to claw his way out of the shit life he’d been dealt. It was one of the things I respected about him, even if I’d never say it out loud. Maybe he’d gone to handle something for class. Or maybe he’d finally snapped and decided to run.

“Find him,” I snapped at Michael. “Now. Check the university, the bus stops, every fucking alley if you have to. I want him back here, alive.” My voice cracked on the last word, betraying the fear I refused to acknowledge. Michael nodded and was out the door before I could say more.

Nico watched me, his eyes too damn knowing. “You’re in deep with this one, Milo,” he said quietly. “Never seen you like this. Not over a piece of ass.”

“He’s not just a piece of ass,” I shot back, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I clenched my fists, hating how raw they sounded. “He’s… he’s mine.”

Nico raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just saying, you’re playing a dangerous game. Luca’s crew is out there, and if they find Jake before we do…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

My stomach twisted, a cold dread settling in. Luca’s crew. Nate Hawkins, Luca’s right-hand thug, was a vicious bastard, all muscle and no mercy. If he got his hands on Jake, if he thought Jake was tied to me, to Luca’s death… I shook my head, shoving the thought away. I couldn’t think about that. Not yet.

“Get out,” I told Nico, my voice flat. “Help Michael. Find him.”

Nico nodded, but before he left, he tossed me a burner phone. “In case you need to make some calls. I’ll keep you posted.”

The door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the penthouse. I sank back onto the couch, the whiskey glass still there, taunting me. My hands shook as I poured another shot, the burn doing nothing to quiet the storm in my head. Jake was out there, alone, maybe hurt, maybe worse. And I was stuck here, useless, the man who owned him but couldn’t protect him.

My phone buzzed, snapping me out of it. A text from an unknown number. My heart stopped as I opened it.

“Got your boy, Kane. He’s a screamer. Pay up, or he’s dead by morning.”