Chapter 20 After the wedding went to hell, I knew I couldn't sit around in that rotten Anderson mansion listening to Maisie's cries and paranoia. Investors were circling like vultures, allies slipping through my fingers, enemies whispering that I'd lost my edge. The empire was bleeding out and if I didn't move fast, it would all collapse. So I booked a jet, told everyone it was about "business expansion," but the truth was simple-I needed guns. Strong allies. A new deal in Europe. Maisie clung to me at the airport, mascara smudged, screaming like a banshee not to leave her. She wanted a wedding, a crown, me on a leash. I shoved her off. I wasn't in the mood. Not after everything. Maybe she thought she had me, but she never did. And standing there, boarding that plane, I realized something ugly. I still loved Annette. My wife. The woman I buried in my heart but never in my blood. No matter how much I tried, Maisie could never touch that part of me. She was the noise. Annette was the silence and fire. Paris bled into Milan, nights in smoke-filled backrooms and glass towers where money smelled like gunpowder. One night, I walked into this high-end mafia bar to meet a contact. Dim lights, velvet booths, crystal glasses. A place where kings and killers traded secrets. And then I saw her. At the counter. Red dress. Pale glass between her fingers. Her posture screamed untouchable, but the way she sipped-slow, almost trembling-it made me feel like I'd been punched. My chest tightened. Because I'd only felt that once before. Annette. My Annette. I told myself no. It wasn't possible. She was gone. Buried. But my body didn't listen. My eyes glued to her, my heart beating like it wanted to claw out of my chest. I slid closer. Tried casual. "Rough night?" She didn't even look at me. "Depends on who's asking." Sharp voice. Dagger edge. God, it burned. Something in her tone, the way she tapped her glass with her nail, like a rhythm only I knew. Familiar. Haunting. During my meeting, I couldn't focus. My contact leaned in and hissed, "Careful with that one. She's under Lombardo protection." Lombardo. The name was poison and temptation at once. My gut twisted, but instead of backing off, I got more obsessed. Chaos broke out then. Some local gang idiot tried to flex, standing too close, raising his voice. She didn't even flinch. Just stood, slipped off one stiletto, and cracked it against his skull. He dropped like a bag of bricks. Silent. The whole bar froze. I swear I almost applauded. My blood ran hot, I moved toward her. Couldn't help it. My body betrayed me, heat pooling low like it used to every time Annette brushed past me in silk. Then another fool, the fallen idiot's sidekick, lunged at her from the shadows. Before I could draw, she already had my gun in her hand, smooth, fast, like she'd done it a thousand times. She aimed straight at the man's eye, calm as death. Chanter 20 11:42 am E E "Unless you want me to shoot right through your skull, walk away." He ran. I froze. Not at her aim. At her voice. That voice. Annette. It couldn't be. But it was. My throat went dry. My hands trembled. My heart-fuck, my heart felt like it broke open right there. She turned to me, smirk tugging her lips, eyes glittering like sin. Handed me back my gun with a slow brush of her fingers. Leaned close enough for her perfume to strangle me. "You're drooling, Mr. Rufus Anderson." My knees nearly gave out. After the bar, I couldn't breathe right. My body was shaking, mind burning, heart ripping out of my chest. That woman walked out of my reach like smoke and I chased her through alleys like a starving dog. Nothing. Just perfume clinging in the air, the echo of her heels fading into the night. I called Mateo, voice raw. "Find her. I don't care what it takes. Track her, dig into who she is, where she sleeps, who sh fucks. I want everything." Next night, Milan. The auction house buzzing like a cathedral for the damned-men in silk suits women in diamonds sharper than knives, blood money passed around in velvet boxes. I came for guns, deals, connections. But the moment I walked in, I saw her again. Red lips. Cold fire in her eyes. But she wasn't alone. She was on the arm of Vincenzo Lombardo. The fucking North prince. Cold bastard everyone feared. And he had her. His hand on her back, guiding her like she belonged to him. My blood went black. I wanted to rip him apart in front of the whole room, but the eyes of Europe's mafia were on us. I swallowed rage, stalked closer, my jaw locked. When I finally reached her, I bent low, voice shaking. "What's your name?" She looked me dead in the eye. No flinch. No mercy. "Annette." My lungs collapsed. My knees almost did too. Before I could speak again, the auction bell rang. Vincenzo raised his paddle, throwing millions like it was candy. One item, then another, then another. No hesitation. Every bid higher, sharper like he wanted to prove something. And Annette sat there calm, untouchable, queen beside him while the world whispered about how Rufus Anderson had just been outclassed, overpowered, humiliated. Chant-00 2/3 78.7% 11:43 am Back in my hotel, I lost it. Poured whiskey, smashed glasses, paced like a caged animal. My chest felt like a thousand knives digging deeper with every breath. The door opened. Mateo stepped in, pale as death. "Boss... you won't believe this. I used our newest trackers. I know who she is." I grabbed him by the collar, teeth grinding. "Say it." He swallowed. "She's your ex-wife. Annette." The glass slipped from my hand, shattered. My pulse stopped. "That's impossible. She's alive? My wife was alive?" Mateo nodded slowly. "But boss... I saw her dead body." I choked on my own voice. "Unless... that body was fake." The room spun. My vision blurred. I slammed Mateo against the wall, eyes burning. "Then she's mine again. Do you hear me? I don't care what happened, I don't care what lies they spread. She's mine. Maisie can rot. Annette is the only woman who ever owned me." Mateo's face twisted with hesitation. "Boss... there's more you need to know." I snarled. "Spit it out!" "She's the missing Lombardo heiress. Edwardo Lombardo is her father. That makes the late Dor Anderson her bloodline grandfather. The wealth, the name, the throne-she can claim it all." My legs gave out. I fell to my knees, palms flat on the carpet, chest heaving like I'd been shot. "No... no... no..." 11:43 am E' & In "Someone Loved is Never Lost" by CrushReel, readers are immersed in a captivating CEO drama that explores the intricacies of love, loss, and redemption. Set against the backdrop of corporate power struggles and personal relationships, this ongoing novel delves deep into the lives of its characters as they navigate the complexities of both the boardroom and the heart. Themes of ambition, betrayal, and resilience intertwine with complex character dynamics, making for a compelling narrative that keeps readers on the edge of their seats. CrushReel's unique storytelling style brings a fresh perspective to the CEO genre, offering a blend of emotional depth and strategic intrigue that sets this novel apart from others in its category. What makes "Someone Loved is Never Lost" special is its ability to seamlessly blend high-stakes corporate drama with heartfelt human connections, creating a story that resonates on multiple levels. Available to read at CrushReel, this novel promises a literary experience that will leave readers eagerly anticipating each new chapter.