Chapter 3: No Body Was Found

Adrian Kingsley stood at the edge of the harbor and watched the ocean swallow the last burning piece of his yacht.

He couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

All he could hear was Aurora screaming his name.

“Aurora!”

His voice tore through the night.

He pushed past the emergency crew and ran toward the water.

A security officer grabbed him.

“Mr. Kingsley, stop!”

“Let go of me!”

“There are divers searching the area.”

“She’s down there!”

“We know.”

“You don’t understand!”

Adrian shoved the man away.

“My wife is down there!”

The word echoed inside his head.

Wife.

For the past six months, that word had felt like a burden.

Tonight, it felt like the most precious thing in the world.

He had spent months convincing himself that Aurora had betrayed him.

Months believing the photographs, the bank records, the anonymous messages.

Months telling himself that divorcing her was the only way to protect his company.

And tonight, he had finally discovered the truth.

Someone had been watching them.

Someone had planted a bomb on his yacht.

Someone had wanted them dead.

And Aurora had been standing beside him when it exploded.

His hands began to shake.

“Sir.”

Mason Reed approached him.

Adrian’s best friend looked almost as pale as he felt.

“We need to get you checked.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“I said I don’t care!”

Mason stared at him.

Adrian rarely shouted.

Not even during the worst business crisis.

But tonight, his control was gone.

Mason lowered his voice.

“We’ll find her.”

Adrian turned toward him.

“You promise?”

Mason hesitated.

That hesitation destroyed him.

Adrian looked back at the ocean.

“Find her.”

“We’re trying.”

“Don’t try.”

His voice became dangerously quiet.

“Find my wife.”

For the next four hours, the harbor became a battlefield.

Police boats arrived.

Divers entered the water.

Helicopters circled overhead.

Emergency teams searched every section of the sea where the yacht had gone down.

Adrian refused to leave.

He stood on the pier wearing the same bloodstained suit.

Every time a diver surfaced, his heart stopped.

Every time they shook their head, something inside him died a little more.

At 3:17 a.m., the lead diver approached.

“We found debris.”

Adrian stepped forward.

“Her?”

The diver removed his helmet.

“We found no body.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened.

“Search again.”

“We already have.”

“Then search deeper.”

“Mr. Kingsley—”

“Search!”

The command echoed across the harbor.

Mason placed a hand on Adrian’s shoulder.

“Give them time.”

Adrian stared at him.

“You don’t understand.”

“I do.”

“No.”

Adrian’s voice cracked.

“I saw her fall.”

Mason said nothing.

“I had her hand.”

Adrian looked down at his trembling fingers.

“I had her.”

His eyes filled with tears he refused to let fall.

“Then the ship broke apart.”

He swallowed.

“And I couldn’t hold her.”

Mason pulled him into a brief embrace.

Adrian didn’t resist.

For the first time in years, the billionaire who owned half the city looked like a broken man.

At sunrise, the official search was suspended.

No body was recovered.

The news spread within minutes.

Billionaire CEO Adrian Kingsley’s yacht had exploded.

His wife, Aurora Kingsley, was missing and presumed dead.

By noon, reporters surrounded Kingsley International.

By evening, photographs of Aurora covered every television screen.

Beautiful.

Elegant.

Smiling.

The woman who had been called Adrian’s greatest love was now being described as his greatest loss.

Adrian watched the news from his office.

He didn’t hear the reporters.

He only stared at the photograph.

Aurora was wearing the white dress she had worn on their wedding day.

He remembered that day perfectly.

She had been nervous.

He had teased her for trembling.

She had whispered, “I’m not afraid of marrying you.”

He had smiled.

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“Loving you too much.”

He hadn’t understood her answer then.

Now it felt like a knife.

Adrian closed his eyes.

“I should have listened.”

Mason stood near the door.

“You need to go home.”

Adrian shook his head.

“This is my home.”

Mason looked around the empty office.

“No. It isn’t.”

Adrian opened his eyes.

“Where is Aurora’s phone?”

“We recovered part of the yacht’s security system. Her phone wasn’t found.”

“Find it.”

“Adrian—”

“Find it.”

Mason nodded.

Then he hesitated.

“There is something else.”

Adrian looked at him.

“What?”

“The police found evidence that the explosion was deliberate.”

Adrian’s expression hardened.

“I know.”

“There were traces of military-grade explosives.”

Adrian stood.

“Who planted it?”

“We don’t know.”

“Then find out.”

Mason lowered his voice.

“There’s more.”

Adrian waited.

“The original target may have been you.”

Silence.

Adrian looked toward the window.

His company.

His enemies.

His family.

His past.

There were too many possibilities.

But one thought terrified him more than anything else.

If the bomb had been meant for him, why had Aurora been on the yacht?

His eyes fell to the wedding photograph on his desk.

Because he had invited her.

He had unknowingly led her straight into a death trap.

Adrian picked up the photograph.

“I killed her.”

Mason’s eyes widened.

“You didn’t.”

“I brought her there.”

“You didn’t know.”

“That doesn’t change the result.”

His fingers tightened around the frame.

“I was angry with her.”

He laughed bitterly.

“I thought she betrayed me.”

Mason remained silent.

“I was going to divorce her.”

Adrian’s voice dropped.

“I was going to look her in the eyes and tell her our marriage was over.”

He stared at Aurora’s smile.

“But the truth is…”

His throat tightened.

“I still loved her.”

Across the city, preparations began for Aurora’s funeral.

There was no body.

Only a coffin covered in white flowers.

Adrian stood before it wearing black.

Hundreds of people gathered.

Business leaders.

Politicians.

Friends.

Family.

Reporters.

Everyone came to mourn Aurora Kingsley.

Everyone except the woman herself.

Adrian approached the coffin.

For several seconds, he couldn’t speak.

Then he placed something inside.

Her wedding ring.

He had found it in his pocket.

His fingers lingered over it.

“I was going to give this back to you.”

His voice was barely audible.

“I thought I didn’t deserve to wear mine anymore.”

His eyes burned.

“But you were supposed to take yours back.”

A tear finally escaped.

“I never told you the truth.”

He leaned closer.

“I loved you.”

The words broke something inside him.

“I loved you every day.”

He pressed his forehead against the coffin.

“And I am sorry.”

Behind him, someone quietly took a photograph.

Adrian didn’t notice.

Neither did anyone else.

Because at that exact moment, thousands of miles away, beneath the harsh white lights of a private medical room, a woman’s fingers moved.

Once.

Then again.

A heart monitor began to beep faster.

A doctor rushed toward the bed.

“She’s waking up.”

A man in a dark coat stepped into the room.

He looked down at the unconscious woman.

Her face was bruised.

Her hair was tangled.

A bandage covered her temple.

But there was no mistaking her.

It was Aurora Kingsley.

The woman whose funeral was happening that very moment.

The doctor looked at the man.

“What should we tell her?”

The man’s expression remained unreadable.

“The truth.”

“What truth?”

He looked toward the woman.

“That everyone believes she’s dead.”

Aurora’s eyes suddenly opened.

She tried to breathe.

Her lips moved.

One word escaped.

“Adrian…”

The man stared at her.

Then he said quietly,

“Your husband thinks you’re dead, Mrs. Kingsley.”

Aurora’s eyes widened.

“And if he finds out you’re alive…”

He paused.

“…the people who tried to kill you will finish the job.”

Aurora stared at him in horror.

Then the monitor screamed.

And somewhere across the ocean, Adrian placed his wife’s wedding ring inside her empty coffin.