If money could return her to me, I would have gladly handed over every last penny that came with the Vitucci name. The houses, cars, private planes, boats, or even the new helicopter. All of it could go in the blink of an eye for all I cared. If I could trade places with her, I would have already been six feet under. Fuck, I would have traded my soul to the devil himself if I could have just five more minutes with Nova so I could tell her one more time how much I loved her and hear her sweet laugh. Five minutes, five hours, or even five days—time meant nothing. Regardless of what I was given, it would never be enough.

I was still staring at the picture when I dismissed my assistant, only tearing my gaze away when my desk phone rang. Work demanded my full attention, but I couldn’t look away from the picture for more than a few minutes at a time. The same thing happened every time I sat behind that desk, but for some reason, it was suddenly worse.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

Her words from my dream the night before replayed in my head over and over again. The feel of her arms around me had been so real. I saw her every night in my dreams, but no matter how often she’d told me she loved me or hugged me, not once had I woken feeling so at peace as I’d done that morning.

But instead of soothing something inside me, it only made the gaping hole in the middle of my chest where my heart should have been throb more. Missing Nova physically hurt to the point that every muscle in my body was constantly tense.

The pain of being without my heart was unrelenting and endless.

Weeks passed without any word from Garret. I started turning over some of his work to Vito and Bennie since I couldn’t do it all myself. His dad called me twice when he couldn’t reach his son, but I just told him Garret was busy with something that had come up.

As Nova’s birthday approached, it was harder and harder to even get out of bed at times. We should have been rushing around in preparation for the wedding while I made plans for our honeymoon. Instead, I was left with…nothing. There would be no celebrating her turning eighteen. No making her my wife. No romantic getaway where I finally made her mine in every way.

Garret’s name popped up on my phone just as I was getting into the back of my SUV one evening. Frowning, I lifted it to my ear. “It’s about fucking time, dickhead. If you’re going to just disappear like this again, make sure to at least shoot me a text every few days so I know you’re alive.”

There was a small pause on the line before he chuckled. “Good to hear your voice too, asshole.”