7. Whispers Of The Search

Chapter 7: Whispers Of The Search 

SARAH’S POV

I stepped into the Chicago FBI Field Office, my heels clicking against the tiled floor, my blonde hair bouncing with each calculated stride. The lobby buzzed with activity, agents in crisp suits moving with purpose, their voices a low hum of urgency. I smoothed my tight navy dress, the fabric hugging my curves, and adjusted my expression, letting my blue eyes shimmer with unshed tears. I needed to look the part—the grieving fiancée, desperate for news for her missing man. 

But inside, fury burned hot in my chest. Ethan’s disappearance ruined everything. I needed him, his status as a special agent, to lift me out of the poverty I’d clawed my way through my whole life. I didn’t love him—didn’t even care about him—but his badge and his name were my ticket to a better life, and now he’d vanished, leaving me stranded.

The briefing room loomed ahead, its glass walls revealing a cluster of agents gathered around a long table. I pushed through the door, my lips trembling as I feigned distress, my hands clutching a tissue I didn’t need. Supervisory Special Agent Reynolds stood at the front, his salt-and-pepper hair catching the light, his voice gruff as he addressed the team. 

“We suspect the Moretti Syndicate—Lucian Moretti, as we all know him as the Reaper—is behind Agent Caldwell’s disappearance,” he said, his tone heavy with certainty. “We’ve launched a citywide search, raising known Moretti lairs, but so far, we’ve found nothing.” 

His words sent a ripple through the room, agents exchanging glances, their faces grim.

I sank into a chair near the back, dabbing at my eyes, my performance flawless. The FBI had called me in as Ethan’s fiancée since they couldn’t reach his foster family, a detail that irritated me. I didn’t want to be here, playing the worried lover, but I had no choice. I listened as Reynolds outlined their next steps—more raids, more surveillance—my mind drifting to my own plans. Ethan’s absence threatened my future, my chance to escape the neglect of my childhood, the cramped apartments, the hand-me-down clothes. I needed him back, not because I cared, but because I deserved the life his status promised.

The meeting ended, agents dispersing with clipped orders, their urgency palpable. I stood, smoothing my dress again, and turned toward the door, my eyes scanning the room for an opportunity. That’s when I collided with a solid chest, the scent of cedar cologne hitting me. I looked up, my breath catching as I met the green eyes of Agent Ryan Kessler. His dark blond hair was neatly trimmed, his jaw sharp, his muscular build evident even though his tailored suit. He towered over me at 5 '11”, a stark contrast to Ethan’s slimmer frame, and I felt a spark of interest I never felt for my so-called fiancé.

“Miss Bennett,” Ryan said, his voice smooth, his hand steadying my arm. “I’m so sorry about Ethan’s disappearance. My deepest sympathies.” His green eyes softened, but I caught a glint of something else—ambition, maybe, or opportunity. “We’ll find him, I promise.”

I nodded, letting a single tear slip down my cheek, my voice trembling with practiced emotion. “Thank you, Agent Kessler. It means so much to hear that.” I stepped closer, my hand brushing his arm, my fingers lingering a moment too long. “It’s been so hard, you know? I feel so alone.” I tilted my head, my blonde hair cascading over one shoulder, my lips parting in a subtle invitation.

Ryan’s gaze flickered to my mouth, his lips curving into a small smile. “You’re not alone, Sarah. I’m here if you need me.” His hand slid to my lower back, his touch warm through the fabric of my dress, guiding me toward the hallway. “Let’s talk somewhere quieter.”

We moved to a small break room, the door clicking shut behind us, the space empty save for a coffee machine and a few chairs. I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms to emphasize my curves, my eyes locked on his. 

“You’re so kind, Ryan,” I purred, my voice low, my smile suggestive. “Ethan never had your… strength.” 

I let my gaze trail down his chest, my interest blatant, my flirting shameless.

He stepped closer, his hand resting on the counter beside me, his body heat palpable. “Ethan doesn’t know what he’s missing,” he murmured, his voice husky, his green eyes darkening with desire. “A woman like you deserves better.” 

His fingers brushed my hip, a bold move, and I leaned into it, my body language encouraging, my cheap seduction a game I played to perfection.

We lingered there, our conversation laced with innuendo, our touches growing bolder, until a passing agent’s voice in the hall snapped us apart. I left the field office with a new ally, my mind already spinning with ways to use Ryan to my advantage, my fury at Ethan simmering beneath my calculated charm.

I drove to Ethan’s foster mother’s house in a quiet Chicago suburb, my hands gripping the steering wheel, my plan solidifying. Margaret Caldwell opened the door, her graying hair pulled back, her brown eyes weary, her face etched with worry. 

“Sarah,” she said, her voice soft, stepping aside to let me in. “Any news?”

I shook my head, my expression somber, my blue eyes glistening again. “I’m afraid not, Margaret. I just came from the FBI briefing. They think…” I paused, letting my voice waver, my performance seamless. “They think Ethan ran away. To escape our marriage. Because he’s still in love with men.”

Margaret’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her chest, her voice trembling. “No, that can’t be true. Ethan wouldn’t do that. He’s a good boy.”

I pressed on, my tone gentle but firm, my lies piling up. “The agents found evidence—messages, secret meetings. They’re convinced he left because he couldn’t face his truth. His sexuality has always been a struggle for him.” 

I reached for her hand, my touch cold, my words venom wrapped in sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Margaret. I tried to help him, but he couldn’t change who he is.”

She shook her head, her denial fierce, her voice rising. “Ethan wouldn’t abandon us like that. He’s not… he’s not that way. He promised to marry you.”

The front door slammed open, cutting her off, and Ethan’s foster father, Daniel, stormed in, his face flushed, his brown eyes blazing. He stood tall at 6’0”, his bulky frame filling the room, his anger palpable. “I heard what you said, Sarah,” he barked, his voice loud, his fists clenched. “I always knew Ethan was a faggot. A disgusting little queer running off to chase men—good riddance!”

Margaret gasped, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes darting between us. “Daniel, stop it! That’s your son you’re talking about!”

Daniel sneered, his voice dripping with venom, his words sharp. “He’s no son of mine. A cocksucker like him shames our family. Let him rot with whatever pervert he’s fucking now.” He spat on the floor, his disgust evident, his hatred for Ethan’s sexuality a raw wound.

I nodded, my expression sympathetic, my lies taking root. “I’m so sorry, Margaret. I wish it weren’t true.” 

I stood, smoothing my dress, my work here done. I left the house, my heels clicking down the steps, my satisfaction cold and sharp. Ethan’s disappearance might have derailed my plans, but I’d make sure his family turned against him, leaving me free to secure my future—whether with Ryan or someone else.