Page 64 of His Cruel Exception

Vincent looks just as shocked to see me, and the color drains from his face when our eyes meet. He must have been paid well for his betrayal because the expensive clothes he's wearing are certainly not something he could afford on a club manager's salary, even with the increase in staff compensation I approved after buying The Bloodrot.

After showing Doctor Hill to his room, we take Vincent into my suite. Davide shoves him into a chair while I remove my jacket, careful not to strain my injured shoulder.

“So you're here in Alabama enjoying what you were paid after what you've done?” I ask him.

He says nothing, his eyes moving around the room without once settling on me. I take out my phone and call Enzo, leaving Vincent to contemplate his miserable future.

“Did you find him?” Enzo asks as soon as he picks up.

“Not yet,” I say. “Can you fly to Alabama tonight? I found Vincent.”

“Hell yes,” Enzo replies. I hear him talking to someone, but his voice is muffled,like he's covering the speaker. A short while later, he talks again. “Logan wants to speak to you.”

“Hi, Antonio,” Logan says, sounding a little hesitant. “I don't want to get your hopes up or anything, but I was talking to Dylan and Stacey earlier. And we don't know for sure, b⁠—”

“Get to the point, Logan.”

“Yes. Alex might be in Minnesota. It's the only place he ever talks about going to. His favorite movie ever was set there, so we thought he might actually be there.”

I straighten, feeling the first real spark of hope since I started this fucking search.

Minnesota.

I haven't even considered it, and now that Logan has mentioned it, I'm wondering how I could have overlooked something so simple. I've been searching places without considering where he would actually want to go. It's not much to go on, and there's no guarantee he's there, but at least it's something.

“Thanks, Logan,” I say, keeping my voice steady despite the sudden urge to get on the jet and head straight to Minnesota.

Enzo takes the phone back and tells me he's already booked a private jet out of New York and will be here as soon as possible.

“Bring enough men to take Vincent back,” I tell him.

“Already on it.”

I instruct Davide to keep an eye on Vincent while I settle onto the couch and try to get some rest. About four hours later, Enzo arrives with Logan, and even through my exhaustion, I notice how closely they’re standing together. Logan looks tired, but he smiles when he sees me, and Enzo’s hand rests on his lower back as they walk into the suite.

I make a mental note to ask my cousin what the fuck is going on between him and Alexander’s friend when I have the time. Enzo pulls out a pair of handcuffs and fastens them around Vincent’s wrists behind his back before handing him over to the men who came with them. A few minutes later, they leave with Vincent and head back to New York.

We manage to get only a few hours of sleep before morning comes, and then we're back on our way to the airport. Less than two hours later, we land at MSP, where Doctor Hill changes the dressing on my neck and replaces my sling before allowing me to leave the jet.

Davide rents a car, and we begin searching Minneapolis the same way we've searched every other city. We go from one hotel to another, stopping at restaurants, coffee shops, and anywhere else Alexander might have visited. I show his picture to so many people that I lose count, but every time, I get the same disappointing answer.

No one has seen him.

By the time evening comes, I'm exhausted, and the constant ache in my neck and shoulder is making it difficult to concentrate. But it's nothing compared to the frustration of knowing I might be in the same city as Alexander and still have no fucking idea where to find him.

I keep looking at my phone, at the picture of him smiling at me, wishing I could hear his voice. I miss him so much that even thinking about him hurts. By ten that night, we decide to check into the Four Seasons and continue our search in the morning. If we still haven't found anything by then, we'll move on to another city.

I'm barely paying attention as Davide handles our check-in at the reception desk. We're just about to leave the reception area when I glance toward the corridor and see him.

Alexander.

My heart stops.

His back is turned to us as he walks down the corridor, but I'd recognize him anywhere. I know the way he walks, the way he moves his hands, and even the slight tilt of his head as he looks down at the key card in his hand.

It's him.

It's really my Alexander.