MasukBella sat on the edge of her bed, her mind racing.
She didn’t stay long enough to reflect. She pushed herself up almost immediately, pacing a few steps before stopping again. Her fingers drummed against her thigh, restless, as she tried to think of something, anything that could help her. She pulled out her phone, the screen lighting up in her hand. For a moment, she considered calling Stephanie again. The thought lingered… then faded. Stephanie had already done enough. Dragging her back into this mess didn’t feel right. Bella exhaled quietly and set the phone back down. The urgency didn’t leave. If anything, it intensified, running through her body like a current. She moved again, throughout the room. Her steps were quick, uneven, like she couldn’t settle anywhere. There was no one she could fully trust. Angela had already gone behind her back, telling her father what happened at the lounge. Stephanie had warned her about her. And Bella wasn’t about to risk pulling anyone else into the fallout. She was at a turning point. Not loud or explosive, just heavy, settling into her chest in a way she couldn’t ignore. Staying here wasn’t an option anymore. She had to do something. On impulse, she yanked open her closet and started pulling clothes out, shoving them into a bag. A few shirts and a pair of jeans. Her hands moved fast, almost desperate. Then she stopped. Reality caught up just as quickly as the impulse had come. She wouldn’t last out there, not like this, not without money, a plan, or somewhere safe to go. The bag slipped from her hands and dropped onto the floor. Her phone buzzed softly on the bed. Bella turned, staring at it for a second before picking it up. A message from Angela. "Hey, your dad was asking about you earlier. Just thought I should check in." Bella’s expression tightened, disgust flickering across her face. “The audacity,” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t bother replying. Just dropped the phone back onto the bed like it had annoyed her personally. For a moment, she just stood there, the weight of everything pressing in again. She needed to find a way out. One way or another. **** One week later. Lorenzo stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, the city stretched out beneath him like something distant and indifferent. The glass in his hand remained untouched, ice slowly melting into itself. Behind him, one of his men spoke. “We checked the house staff again. Everyone who was on shift that night.” “And?” Lorenzo asked, voice flat. “They confirmed she left early. Alone with no interaction with anyone on the way out.” Lorenzo’s expression didn’t change. “Cameras?” “We checked them to. She kept her head down most of the way. We got partial angles, but nothing clear enough to run.” “ what about the lounge?” He asked impatiently The man shifted slightly. “We’re still going through it. Most of the entries that night were under private reservations. A lot of them don’t use real names.” Lorenzo exhaled lightly, dragging a hand across his jaw. “Of course they wouldn’t.” He set the glass down on the desk. “So she’s not in the system. No financial trail. No clear face. No name.” He paused. “That's Convenient.” The man didn’t respond. Lorenzo stopped near the desk, fingers resting briefly against its surface. “That doesn’t happen often,” he said after a moment. “Most people slip up somewhere. A name, a number… or at least something.” Silence held for a beat. The man stayed quiet. Lorenzo pushed off the desk and walked past him slowly. “Check the area around the building again,” he said. “Not just the entrance. But the Streets, nearby cameras... or anything you didn’t catch the first time.” “We already...” “Check it again.” The interruption wasn’t loud, but it ended the sentence cleanly. A brief pause. “Understood.” Lorenzo didn’t stop moving. “Don’t limit it to the club. If she didn’t leave anything, then you’re wasting time looking for her there. In fact, check anything from a five-mile radius.” “Yes, sir.” The man turned to leave, but Lorenzo spoke again. “If anything turns up, even if it looks irrelevant, you bring it to me first. I don’t want my father hearing about this.” “Of course.” The door closed behind him. The room settled into silence again. Lorenzo stood still for a moment longer, then exhaled quietly. He didn’t like loose ends. And right now… that was exactly what Bella was. Except the thought lingered longer than it should have. For someone he hadn’t even bothered to learn the name of… she was taking up more space in his mind than she had any right to. Later that night, Bella sat on the edge of her bed, a strange wave of dizziness settling over her. She leaned forward, pressing her palms into her thighs, trying to steady herself. Then it hit harder. She pushed herself up quickly, pretending she was okay, but her balance wavered. Her hand shot out, grabbing the edge of the dresser. Her grip tightened as she steadied herself, brows pulling together. “What…” she muttered under her breath. It passed just as quickly as it came. She stayed there for a second longer, breathing carefully, before slowly letting go. She tested her weight again. This time, she managed a step forward. Then another. She exhaled quietly, brushing it off. Maybe it was stress or lack of sleep. She hadn’t really been eating properly either. Bella moved toward the door, intending to step out, even if it was just for a minute. The air in the room still felt too heavy. But halfway there, she stopped. A sudden wave of nausea rose sharply enough to make her pause, so sudden it made her feel like vomiting. Her hand pressed lightly against her stomach as her expression tightened. “…seriously?” she muttered. It wasn’t intense, but it was enough. Enough to make her turn away from the door. Bella walked back slowly, more carefully this time, and sat down again on the edge of the bed. Her fingers lifted to her temple for a brief moment before dropping again. For the first time that night, her thoughts weren’t on her father, or Evelyn, or the arrangement waiting for her in a month. Just this unfamiliar shift she couldn’t explain. She exhaled slowly and stayed still, letting the silence settle around her.Valentina was already at the penthouse that same day when Lorenzo walked in, sitting at the kitchen island with her laptop open and a coffee going cold beside her. She looked up when he came in, her gaze steady and quietly observant.She watched him cross the room.“You’re quiet,” she said, glancing up from her laptop as she studied him carefully.“I’m always quiet,” he replied, reaching for the bottle without looking at her.“You’re a different kind of quiet,” she said, closing the laptop slowly, her eyes staying on him.He poured himself a drink and didn't respond.Valentina let her hand rest on the laptop for a moment before looking up at him fully. “Who is she?”He turned around. "What?""The way you just walked in here." She said it without heat, almost conversationally, which was worse than if she'd raised her voice. "I've seen you stressed about business. I've seen you tired. This is something else." She picked up her coffee. "So. Who is she?"“No one,” he said flatly, his expr
Evelyn had slept in two-hour intervals, waking from each one with her hand reaching for her phone.She was seated at her dressing table now, her makeup artist working quietly beside her, pressing a concealer beneath eyes that had no business looking this tired.Evelyn watched herself in the mirror with the detached focus of someone running calculations."You're tensing your jaw ma'am" the makeup artist said softly."I'm aware." Evelyn said dryly.Her assistant, Priya, was standing near the door with a tablet, waiting. Evelyn had already given her three instructions before eight in the morning, each one delivered at a pitch slightly too sharp for the hour."The number," Evelyn said. "Where are we with it?""Still working on the trace ma'am.” Priya adjusted her grip on the tablet. “My contact said by...”“I said noon, Priya.” Evelyn’s eyes stayed fixed on her reflection.“Yes, I know.” Priya swallowed lightly. “I’ve told him but....”“Tell him again.” Evelyn reached for her lipstick whi
Three Years LaterLorenzo had been sitting with the same drink for twenty minutes, the glass turning slowly in his hand. Marcos was talking while Ethan was laughing at something. The piano in the corner was playing a song nobody was listening to."You’ve been sitting there with that face for twenty minutes,” Marcos said. “What’s wrong with you?”"He's engaged now," Ethan said, leaning back. "Misery is ceremonial it seems."Lorenzo didn’t smile. He only glanced at them, expression unchanged.Marcos watched him for a second. "You're with one of the most beautiful women in this city and you're sitting here like someone ran over your dog."“Valentina’s fine,” Lorenzo said, turning the glass in his hand. It sounded less like praise and more like a completed obligation."That’s genuinely the least enthusiastic thing anyone has ever said about their fiancée,” Marcos said, staring at him for a second before taking another sip of his drink.Ethan swirled his glass. “Three years later and you s
The clinic doors slid open and Lorenzo walked her through, his grip firm on her upper arm. Not quite painful, but close enough to send a clear message.Bella tried to slow her pace, a small resistance, but his fingers tightened instantly, pressing into her skin without him even glancing her way.That was enough for her to understand.This was about control, and he would go as far as necessary to protect his name and keep it.The staff knew him. That was the first thing Bella registered, the way the woman at the front desk looked up and nodded before he even reached her.It felt planned. Like everything had already been set in motion long before he showed up at her house.Bella had to quicken her steps just to keep up with him."Wait..." she said. But he didn't slow down. Bella looked at the doors they passed, the small plaques on the walls, and something in her chest started pulling tight."Lorenzo please stop..." She tried pleading again But Nothing. He didn't even give a glance ba
Bella stared at the words until they blurred. The entire situation had finally caught up to her.A few seconds later, an unknown number called. Bella hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen before she finally swiped to answer. There was silence at first, just a faint line of static, before a voice came through.“You got the message.” It was Lorenzo. No introductions or explanations.“Now come downstairs.”Then the call ended immediately after, cutting off any chance for her to respond. Bella remained still for a moment, the phone still pressed to her ear, as the silence returnedTo confirm it was real, Bella moved to the window and looked outside. A black car sat at her porch.That was enough. She stood there for a moment, letting the reality settle in, before slowly opening her door. She walked down the stairs and stepped outside, each movement controlled but heavy with awareness.The car was waiting exactly as she saw it, the door already open as if it had been expecting her.
Lorenzo pushed through the glass doors, his steps measured but deliberate. The receptionist at the front desk looked up when he approached. She was young, with tired eyes and a pen tucked behind her ear like a weapon she might need to use. Lorenzo placed his phone on the counter. The screen showed a photo of Bella captured from surveillance footage his men managed to find. "This woman," he said. "Was she here today?" The receptionist glanced at the photo. Then back at him. Her smile faltered. "Can I ask why you're..." "Was she here." Not a question. His voice dropped low, stripped of any pretense of politeness. The girl must have heard something in his tone because she dropped the polite routine entirely. "...Yes. She came in this morning." Lorenzo pulled the photo back slowly. His thumb traced the edge of the screen where Bella's face had been. "Who saw her?" "That would be Dr. Mensah, but he's with a patient right now and I can't just..." "When he's done." He said i







