14

I clutched Ivy’s phone like a lifeline as I stormed toward the penthouse building.

Ivy wouldn’t have gone to her parents’ place, and she definitely wouldn’t have left without telling me. There was only one other place she could be home. Or whatever you called the luxury castle she now lived in.

I reached the gated entrance, but the security guards were already up and alert.

“Ma’am, you can’t just walk in here.”

“I’m her friend!” I snapped. “Ivy Carter. Your boss’s wife. She left the concert almost an hour ago and hasn’t returned. I need to know if she’s inside!”

One of the men narrowed his eyes. “We can’t let anyone in without clearance.”

“I swear on my life, I saw her this morning! Ask Theresa! Theresa, the housekeeper!”

As if summoned by my panic, the elevator chimed and Theresa stepped into view. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw me.

“Tina?”

“Thank God.” I exhaled. “Please tell me Ivy’s here.”

Theresa looked confused. “What? No, she left with you for the concert, remember?”

That was all I needed to hear. My heart sank.

“She’s not back?” My voice shook. “She went to pee. I....i...i..waited, I....i. .searched,,Theresa, I think Ivy is missing.”

Theresa blinked, the color draining from her face. “Missing?”

Before either of us could speak again, a deep, cold voice came from behind.

“My wife is what?”

We both turned sharply to find Nathan Blake standing at the hallway entrance, sleeves rolled up, eyes sharp and dangerous.

The air shifted. Just his presence made the room tense.

Theresa opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“I asked a question,” he said, voice low but commanding. “Where is Ivy?”

“She… she didn’t come back from the concert,” I said carefully, swallowing hard. “I think someone took her.”

He turned sharply to Desmond, who had just walked in behind him.

“Find her. Now.”

NATHAN'S POV

I was halfway down the staircase, adjusting my cufflinks and mentally reviewing tomorrow’s pitch when I noticed a disturbance outside. A woman agitated, loud was arguing with the guards. Normally, I wouldn’t pay it any attention.

But something about her urgency made me pause.

Before I could ask who it was, I heard it.

“Ivy is missing.”

The words sliced through the hallway like a dagger.

I stopped cold on the steps, my heart forgetting how to beat for a moment.

My wife is what?

The words ripped out of me before I could think.

I didn’t wait for confirmation I was already moving. By the time I reached the main hall, Desmond had stepped out of the lounge, startled by the sound of my voice.

“She went to the concert,” The lady in front of me said, voice shaking. “Said she needed to pee and never came back. It’s been almost an hour, Nathan. I searched. I even came here thinking she might’ve snuck home but she didn’t.”

Theresa looked like she’d seen a ghost. “She didn’t come back,” she confirmed in a whisper.

I stared at them. My hands clenched so tightly I could feel my pulse in my fists.

No. No. This can’t be happening.

Not Ivy.

Not my wife.

I turned slowly to Desmond, my voice sharper than ice.

“Find her.”

He stiffened. “Sir, I’ll contact security and get—”

“Scourge the whole of New York if you have to!” I barked. “Check every traffic cam near the venue, every alley, every face. Call in favors. Call the NYPD. Call the FBI if needed. Just find her.**

My wife has to be found before midnight.”

Desmond didn’t hesitate after that. He pulled out his phone and started barking orders of his own, already alerting the private team I had on standby.

I stood there in the center of the marble hall, pulse pounding, jaw clenched.

Amy’s voice rang in my head from earlier:

“You’re falling for her.”

Maybe I was.

But that wasn’t what mattered now.

What mattered was Ivy.

And getting her back.

Alive.

Safe.

Before it was too damn late.

I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t.

Every second that ticked by without Ivy felt like someone was carving into my chest with a dull blade.

The house was no longer quiet. My security team had flooded the control center. Screens displayed traffic footage. Satellite views. Crowd scans from the concert. City cams. Every damn thing.

The command center had become a war room.

“Sir,” Desmond called, rushing toward me, a headset in his ear and urgency etched into every line on his face. “We found something.”

I shot to my feet. “Where?”

He brought up a feed on the tablet. “CCTV near the southwest parking lot. Thirty-three minutes past the hour. Ivy was followed. And then...” He tapped again. “There’s a black van. Unregistered plates. We tracked its route.”

I watched the grainy footage as Ivy,walked toward a corridor near the restroom exit. Seconds later, a man followed her. Then the van. The footage cut out after that.

“Pull every angle,” I growled. “License plate analysis. Intersection cams. I want that van burned into every feed in this city.”

Desmond nodded. “Already done. We’ve got a trace. They stopped at an abandoned shipping warehouse near the docks. Could be a drop point.”

“I’m going,” I said without hesitation.

Three of my top security men stepped forward. “We’ll escort you, sir.”

I holstered my own weapon beneath my coat. “No one messes with my wife and goes scot-free,” I said, my voice cold enough to freeze the room.

IVY’S POV

The brightness hit me first.

A piercing, artificial white light beaming directly at my face. I squinted, disoriented, my head pounding like a drum and my body weighed down like I was buried under bricks. Something cold was beneath me,metal? Maybe tile? My limbs wouldn’t obey me. I tried to move but only managed a twitch.

My throat was dry. My mind hazy.

Where the hell was I?

Then I saw him.

A man. Masked. Gloved. Silent.

He didn’t say a word as he adjusted a phone on a small tripod facing me. A camera.

That’s when the panic kicked in full throttle.

My heart pounded wildly against my chest, but I could barely lift my arms. My wrists were tied. Ankles too. I tried to scream, but the sound that left my mouth was a choked, broken whisper.

“No… please…”

He looked at me and tilted his head, as if inspecting something. Then he reached for the hem of my dress.

No. No. No.

He was… he was going to record it.

Tears pricked my eyes as I thrashed uselessly, the bonds cutting into my skin. My voice cracked as I screamed, but no one answered.

No one was coming.

Somewhere, deep in my mind, a foolish part of me wished Nathan would burst through that door like a scene from a movie. That he’d find me. Save me.

But this wasn’t a dream.

This was real.

And I was about to be violated in the worst way imaginable.

The man’s hands touched my skin, rough and unfeeling. My soul screamed.

And then—

CRACK!

A loud, sharp sound echoed through the room. The masked man froze mid-move before collapsing beside me like a puppet with cut strings.

I gasped.

My body trembled as I turned my head.

Standing there,jaw clenched, eyes ablaze, fists still tightwas Nathan.

Nathan.

Behind him were three other men, one of whom I vaguely recognized as part of his security team. But my eyes didn’t leave Nathan’s face.

His knuckles were red. His chest rose and fell in fury.

He looked like a storm in a suit.

And right now?

He was my storm.

Our eyes met.

And for the first time, I saw him feel something that wasn’t cold or calculated.

He crossed the room in two long strides and dropped to his knees beside me.

“Ivy,” he breathed, his voice raw.

I started sobbing the moment his hands touched my face, cupping it with so much care it made my already bruised heart splinter again.

“You’re okay now,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”

I barely had time to catch my breath.

Nathan's presence was still sinking in, his voice still echoing in my ears, when he stood up like a man possessed. His chest heaved, his fists curled, and then...

He grabbed the masked man by the collar and yanked him up like he weighed nothing.

The guy groaned, half-conscious, blood already dripping from his temple.

Nathan ripped the mask off.

A stranger. A nobody. But with eyes full of dark satisfaction.

“You think this is a joke?” Nathan hissed, voice low and lethal.

His fist collided with the guy’s face—once. Twice. Again.

“Who sent you?” Nathan bellowed. “Who?!”

Blood splattered. The man coughed, the sick sound of it splashing onto the floor.

And then,he laughed.

He actually laughed.

Even with his mouth full of blood, swollen lips, and a broken tooth, he let out a low, mocking chuckle.

“You’re too late, Blake,” he slurred. “You were always too late.”

Nathan snapped.

He slammed the guy back to the ground and kept pounding, knuckles already slick with red.

I screamed.

“Nathan! Stop!”

He didn’t hear me.

His eyes were wild. His breath ragged.

“Tell me who sent you!” he roared again, landing another punch. “TELL ME!!”

“Nathan!” I shouted again, my voice cracking, crawling toward him with every ounce of strength I had. “You’ll kill him!”

He stopped.

Just for a second.

His shoulders rose and fell like waves, hands trembling with fury. He looked down at the man—unmoving now, barely breathing—and then at me.

And that was when he saw it.

The fear in my eyes.

Not just for myself.

But for him.

His expression cracked. Just slightly. And I reached for his bloodied knuckles, wrapping my fingers around them.

“Please,” I whispered. “Don’t let him win by becoming like him.”

Silence.

Then, slowly, Nathan stood up, stepped back, and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

He didn’t say a word.