The inside of the black SUV smelled like stale coffee and sweat, but Alex barely noticed. His fingers drummed restlessly on the leather armrest, eyes locked on the screen of his phone.

"Nothing yet?" He barked, voice sharp as broken glass. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

The man in the passenger seat swallowed nervously, avoiding Alex’s gaze.

"W-we checked the safehouses, Mr. Adams. And the private clinics. No sign of her. It’s like she vanished."

Alex’s jaw clenched, muscle twitching at his temple. Emma. That girl. Weak. Useless. But now, suddenly, she was the single thread that could unravel everything. He could almost see it: her standing beside Jean, telling everyone what she’d seen that night... In the accident, in the study, his face twisted in fury.

No.

"Find. Her. Now." His voice dropped to a deadly calm that made the man flinch harder than if Alex had shouted. "I don’t care how many doors you break down or how many cameras you hack into. If you fail me again..."

He didn’t finish the threat. He didn’t need to.

The driver turned slightly. "Mr. Adams, what if she already went to the police?"

Alex’s gaze snapped to him, eyes cold and glittering. "Then I’ll make sure she never speaks again. Understand?"

Silence filled the car, thick and suffocating.

The city lights blurred outside the window as the SUV sped through back alleys and side roads. Alex’s thoughts were a snarl of fury and panic.

She can’t ruin me. I’ve worked too damn hard. I won’t let some half dead girl destroy what I’ve built.

In the reflection of the window, his face looked unfamiliar even to himself... desperate, drawn, a man cracking under the weight of his own sins.

Emma... wherever you are... you’d better pray I don’t find you first.

________________________

Alex stood by the tall window of his office, staring out at the dark skyline, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. His other hand curled around a crystal glass of untouched whiskey.

"Tell me again," He hissed, voice low and dangerous. "Jean, my sister... hasn’t shown up?"

The woman on the other end... an intern from Jean’s company, desperate for favor and frightened of him... stammered. "N-no, sir. After Mr. Morris came earlier and caused a scene, she left. She didn’t come back to the office after that. Everyone thought she might have gone to meet someone, but she never returned."

Alex’s eyes narrowed, a spark of rage cutting through his practiced calm. "And no one knows where she is?"

"No, sir. I-I’m sorry, but she’s completely off the grid. Even Hannah Kingsley left with her. Their drivers weren’t called, and her phone location hasn’t been used."

The intern’s voice was shaking now, and Alex could practically hear her regretting ever agreeing to spy for him. He tapped his fingers against the glass, the clink of ice sharp and steady.

Jean was clever. He knew that. But she’d never disappeared this thoroughly before... Unless someone was helping her.

Logan Kingsley.

"Fine," he snapped. "Keep your ears open. If she shows up... anywhere... you call me first. Don’t think about calling anyone else."

"Y-yes, Mr. Adams."

He ended the call, the screen turning black in his hand. A muscle in his jaw jumped, rage simmering just beneath his skin.

So Jean went missing right after Morris made a scene... and she hasn’t returned. She must have found something out. Or she’s hiding something...

Alex dropped the glass onto his desk with a dull clink, ignoring the splash of whiskey that stained a pile of documents. His mind whirred, calculating, hunting.

They think they can outsmart me. But I know Jean. She won’t stay hidden for long. And when she surfaces... I’ll be waiting.

______________________

Alex found Morris Adams alone, standing by the balcony of a private lounge in the Adams estate. The scent of stale whiskey clung to Morris’s wrinkled shirt, and his tired eyes barely flicked up as Alex stepped closer.

"Uncle," Alex drawled softly, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. "You look... worse than usual."

Morris didn’t bother to respond, only took a slow sip from his glass. Alex studied him... the tremor in his hand, the hollow grief in his stare.

"Still no word about Emma?" Alex asked, feigning sympathy as he leaned against the railing.

Morris’s jaw clenched. "Don’t speak her name if you’re only here to mock me."

"No, no," Alex replied smoothly. "I came because I’m worried too. She’s your daughter, but she’s also my cousin. And Jean... she suddenly disappeared too, don’t you think something is going on?"

Morris finally looked at him, suspicion mixing with desperation. Alex softened his gaze, stepping closer.

"You know Jean," Alex continued, voice low, coaxing. "She’d do anything to protect family. What if she took Emma? Hid her somewhere? Maybe she knows something we don’t."

Morris swallowed, hesitating. Alex could see the conflict twisting behind his bloodshot eyes. He pushed further, gently.

"Uncle... you’ve always had certain... connections," Alex said, lowering his voice even more, as if sharing a secret. "People who can find those who don’t want to be found."

Morris’s fingers tightened around the glass. "And what will you do if I help you find them?"

"Talk to Emma," Alex lied smoothly. "That’s all. I just want to know what she knows... why she ran, and if Jean really took her. I’m worried Jean is doing something reckless."

He let out a practiced sigh, dropping his gaze to appear vulnerable. "She’s always been stubborn... but I don’t want her to ruin herself over this."

Morris looked down, his expression cracking. "If Jean really has Emma... She must have a reason."

"And that’s what I want to understand," Alex pressed gently. "You help me find them... then we can help them both before the media or before the police get involved. Quietly. As a family."

Morris studied him, his face carved in guilt and doubt. But Alex saw the tiny flicker of agreement... desperation overpowering judgment.

"I’ll... see who still owes me favors," Morris murmured hoarsely.

Alex hid his smirk, turning away before it could surface.

Perfect.

Let the old man’s contacts find Emma and Jean... then I’ll do what needs to be done. And no one will suspect me.