Chapter 3 - Gone

POV: Adrian

I rolled my neck as the elevator went up, working out the stiffness from the three back-to-back meetings I'd had yesterday.

The merger was finally handled last night. It was done and we could move forward.

I glanced at the rose bouquet in my hand.

I’d apologize to Regina for missing last night and fix things today.

The elevator stopped, and the first thing I noticed when I stepped into the penthouse was the unusual heavy silence.

Usually, Regina’s presence always welcomed me home, either by her soft music playing in the kitchen, the scent of her vanilla perfume or the way her face lit up when she saw me.

But this silence felt…wrong.

Which meant that she was indeed angry at me for missing another important dinner.

Again.

My jaw tightened slightly as I loosened my tie and stepped further into the penthouse, dropping the flowers on the console. 

“Regina?”

Silence.

I walked further into the house and the dining area came into view, stopping me in my tracks.

Carefully, I approached the beautifully decorated table. 

The candles and the ice had melted hours ago. Two untouched plates of Alfredo pasta sat beneath the dim chandelier lights, cold. 

My eyes moved across the table slowly before stopping at the diamond ring, sitting at the edge of the plate.

Something sharp settled low in my chest.

I walked towards the table and picked it up without thinking, turning it once between my fingers. The diamond caught the morning light and threw a small reflection across the tablecloth.

For a second, I simply stared at it, then my expression hardened instantly.

I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket and dialed security. Someone picked at the first ring.

“Where is Regina?” I asked calmly.

“Miss Price left around midnight, Sir.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

“No, Sir. But she had a suitcase.”

“Suitcase?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I hung up without another word and called her immediately. 

Straight to voicemail.

I tried again. 

Voicemail.

My patience thinned dangerously.

Regina wasn’t one to leave the house without letting me know or allow my calls to go to voicemail.

I dialed her restaurant next. 

“Good morning. Maison Price—“

“Adrian Moretti,” I said, cutting off the receptionist. “Get me Regina.”

“Chef Price hasn’t come in this morning, Mr. Moretti,” the receptionist explained nervously after hearing my voice.

I ended the call without another word, the ring still closed in my fist.

I walked toward our bedroom and pushed the door open. 

Everything looked untouched at first, until I reached the closet, and stopped.

Her closet confirmed what I already knew. 

Almost all of Regina’s things were gone and a suitcase was missing too. The empty spaces between the hangers hit harder than they should have. 

My eyes scanned the shelves automatically, noticing details without trying to. 

Her favourite winter coat was gone. The blue heels I’d gotten for her from Paris were gone. The jewelry tray near the mirror was almost empty except for the pieces she wore daily.

Then my eyes landed on a cream-colored silk scarf resting near the back corner.

I picked it up slowly.

Regina wore this scarf whenever she sat at the balcony, reading or listening to music late at night.

The fabric still smelled faintly like her perfume, causing something unfamiliar to move violently in my chest.

For the first time in years, I felt completely out of control.

“Adrian?”

My sister’s voice from the living room interrupted my thoughts. I folded the scarf, placed it back in the closet gently and walked out of the room.

Elena’s angry eyes spotted me the minute I walked out of the bedroom. My sister never knocked when she came to our home, and I’d long stopped expecting her to.

“Okay, I’ve been up since midnight and I need you to explain—“ She stopped the moment she saw my face, her voice dropping immediately. “What happened?”

“How do you know something happened last night?”

She held up her phone without a word, photos of me and Seraphina filling the screen.

My arm was around Seraphina’s waist and her hand was against my chest. 

The headline underneath made my expression darken instantly. 

MORETTI & LAURENT SPARK RECONCILIATION RUMORS.

I looked at my sister. “Elena, it’s not what it looks like.”

“Then what was it?” 

Elena’s voice was quiet, which was worse than yelling. She looked past me slowly, and her eyes settled on the dining table. 

Her face changed. 

“Adrian,” she called my name like a warning. “What—Where is Regina?”

“She left.”

“She—“ Elena blinked. “What do you mean she left?”

I opened my palm, revealing the ring.

My sister stared at it for a long moment, then looked up at me, and I watched her expression shift to grief first, then irritation.

“She loved you, Adrian,” her voice cracked slightly at the edges. “She waited for you—and you were out there with Seraphina—“

“I was handling the merger—“

“I don’t care about your bloody merger, Adrian!” She pressed her finger over her mouth briefly, composing herself. When she dropped her hand, her jaw was tight. “Did you stop to think about how she would feel sitting here watching New York celebrate you with another woman?”

I wanted to defend myself, tell her that I didn't know about the photos until she showed them to me. 

But that would only make me look stupid.

She continued. “You know what your problem is? You think because Regina loves you, she’ll always wait for you to choose her.”

Her words felt like a hard slap across my face, but I did nothing.

I just stood there, my hands balled into fists, watching my sister silently. 

Her eyes drifted to the dining, lingering on it for a moment before returning to me.

“You don’t have a heart, Adrian.” she said and turned around, heading for the door, her heels clicking loudly after her.

Elena was right. This was all my fault, and I was going to fix it.

Left alone with the silence of the penthouse, I took my phone out again and called Seraphina immediately.

She answered on the second ring.

“Adrian,” her voice was smooth and elegant as always. “I was wondering when you’d call.”

“How did those photographs reach the press?”

There was a pause, then a soft laugh.

“Events like Calloway galas always attract cameras, you know that.”

“Seraphina,” I kept my voice flat. “The angles were perfectly captured and the photos went live before we’d left the building. Someone paid the press.”

There was that brief, practiced pause. Then—

“I genuinely don’t know what you are implying. I don’t control the paparazzi, Adrian.” Amusement slightly coated her voice. “Funny how every camera found us before we even spoke.”

My expression darkened instantly.

There it was. The slight confession. 

“You manipulated this.”

“Manipulate is such an ugly word, Honey.” She sighed softly. “I simply didn’t stop it.”

I closed my eyes briefly, thinking about how Regina must have felt when she saw the photos. 

“Adrian?” Seraphina’s voice softened carefully. “Is this about Regina?”

I hung up immediately, and the penthouse went quiet again. 

I looked around the untouched dinner, and for the first time in years, an unfamiliar emotion settled in my chest. 

Whatever this feeling was, it felt worse than losing a business deal.