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07 The Vanishing

last update Last Updated: 2025-09-05 03:33:27

Damien’s POV

Six weeks.

That was how long it had been since Elena walked out of my life.

Six weeks since the sound of the elevator doors closed between us. Six weeks since her calm voice cut through me with the lie: I already forgot.

And in all that time, I had heard nothing about the driver.

Adrian Lang, for all his boasting about efficiency, had only given me silence. No names. No locations. No answers. He swore his team was “working the angles,” but every day that passed felt like a noose tightening around my chest.

I told myself I was patient. That I could wait for justice. But at night, when the city lights glittered against the glass walls of my penthouse, my thoughts weren’t on the driver.

They were on her.

Where was she now?

Who was she with?

Had she found someone else to run to, someone to hold her when she cried, someone to fill the silence I had left behind?

The thought clawed at me, tearing through my pride. She had signed the divorce papers so easily, walked away without a fight. It should have made me furious, but instead it left me hollow. Because if she could let go of me that easily… had she ever truly loved me at all?

No. No, I refused to believe that. She had looked at me with too much devotion, too much pain. She had whispered my name in her sleep. She had once loved me, fiercely.

Which meant that if she had walked away, it was because she had someone else to lean on.

The idea festered like poison.

Jealousy twisted sharp in my gut. I hated it. I hated imagining her soft smiles aimed at another man, hated the thought of someone else’s hands where mine had been.

I told myself I only wanted to know her whereabouts to keep her in check. To make sure she didn’t run too far, in case Adrian’s investigation exposed more of her schemes. If the driver confessed again, if more evidence surfaced, I needed her within reach.

That was the excuse I fed myself.

The truth?

I couldn’t bear the thought that she might have already let go of me while I was still holding on like a desperate fool.

“Find her,” I told my PA one Monday morning, my voice clipped.

He blinked. “Sir?”

“Elena Carter,” I said, sharper this time. Even saying her maiden name left a sour taste on my tongue. “Track her down. I want her address, her routine, everything. Discreetly.”

The PA hesitated only a moment before nodding. “Understood, sir.”

For three days, I buried myself in work, pretending I didn’t care what he would uncover. But each night, I found myself waiting for his call, restless and agitated.

Finally, he stepped into my office late on Thursday evening, a folder clutched in his hands.

“Sir.” His tone was strained.

“Well?” My heart kicked against my ribs, though I kept my face impassive.

“We… can’t find her.”

The words sliced through me. “What do you mean you can’t find her?”

“She’s vanished,” he said cautiously. “Her bank accounts were closed two days after she left the penthouse. No forwarding address. No records of her employment. It’s as if she… disappeared.”

Cold fury surged through me. “Impossible. No one disappears without help. What about her brother? Elijah Carter. He’s the only family she has left.”

The PA shifted uncomfortably. “That’s the other thing, sir. Elijah’s gone as well. His resignation was processed, but there’s no new employment record, no active contact details, not even a lease under his name. They’ve both vanished.”

I stood so suddenly my chair slammed against the wall. “Damn it!” My voice reverberated across the office, sharp enough to make the PA flinch.

She was gone. Elena. My wife, no, my ex-wife, had slipped through my grasp entirely.

And the knowledge ignited something in me I didn’t want to name: panic.

I had convinced myself she’d come crawling back, that she couldn’t survive without me. But instead, she had cut every tie, vanished without a trace, leaving me with nothing but the echo of her absence. Maybe out of shame, fear or the guilt of what she and her mother did. Yeah, shame could do that too, make anyone want to disappear.

I wanted to smash something, anything, just to silence the storm roaring inside my chest.

“Sir,” the PA said carefully, as though testing his luck, “there’s one more thing.”

I froze, my fury cooling into something sharper. “What is it?”

He held out the folder, his eyes downcast. “While reviewing her file at the hospital, I found something… unusual. Medical records from her last visit.”

My pulse slowed, then thundered. “Go on.”

He swallowed hard. “She was pregnant.”

The room tilted violently. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

“Pregnant?” The word rasped out of me, jagged, disbelieving.

“Yes, sir. According to the file, she was one month along at the time. The attending physician was her brother. That may explain why it wasn’t flagged to the administration.”

I gripped the edge of my desk until my knuckles went white. My mind reeled back to that night. Her tear-stained face. The desperation in her voice. I’m pregnant.

And my answer, cruel, venomous, unforgivable. Is this part of your plan too?

I had thought it was another lie. Another manipulation.

But it wasn’t.

The paper trembled in my hands as I flipped through the report. Her name. The date. The clinical confirmation of pregnancy. Proof. Cold, undeniable proof.

She hadn’t lied.

She was carrying my child.

My knees nearly buckled under the weight of it. I sank back into my chair, the file still open in front of me, staring at the evidence that shredded everything I thought I knew.

She hadn’t trapped me. She hadn’t schemed. She had been telling me the truth, and I had spat on her, broken her, cast her aside.

And now… she was gone.

Somewhere out there, carrying my child. Alone.

A savage ache tore through my chest. Rage, regret, guilt, all of it collided in a storm that left me breathless.

“Sir?” my PA asked tentatively. “Should I continue the search?”

I raised my eyes, burning, furious, desperate. “Yes. Double the resources. Triple them if you have to. I don’t care what it costs. Find her. Find them.

Because no matter how far Elena thought she could run, no matter how completely she believed she had cut me out of her life, I would tear down the world to bring her back.

Not just because she was mine.

But because she carried what was mine.

And this time, I wouldn’t let her go.

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I don't sorry for him. he Needs to feel it some more
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