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The thought cut deeper than she expected. Her excitement withered, swallowed by bitterness she didn’t want to admit.

She sat up slowly, every movement precise, graceful. Stretching her arms over her head, she let out a soft sigh, then dropped the phone back into Darren’s hand.

Darren didn’t notice. He winked, still caught in the high of it all. “So? What’s the plan with all this money? What are we doing first?”

Krystal’s lips curved into a smile, but her eyes didn’t match. They were cool. Guarded.

“We’re rich. Obviously, we’re going to party.” Her voice carried a heat that didn’t come from joy. “Call our friends. Let’s hit a bar tonight.”

Darren twirled the phone between his fingers and laughed. “Absolutely. Right away, madam!”

***

Lorenzo paced alone in his office at Velare headquarters, long after everyone else had gone home. The sprawling estate was silent—eerily so. Shadows stretched across the walls, and only the faint hum of the city in the distance reminded him that time was still moving.

He couldn’t bring himself to go home.

There was nothing to go back to.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, dragging in a shaky breath. His chest felt crushed, like someone had wedged a steel fist between his ribs and kept tightening it with each passing hour.

He dropped down into the chair behind his desk, his movements heavy. Picked up his phone. Again. Scrolled to her name. Hit call.

Straight to voicemail.

Again.

The phone slipped from his hand and hit the desk with a loud clack that echoed in the stillness. His jaw clenched. His eyes burned. He gritted his teeth and muttered into the silence:

“That stubborn, reckless woman…!”

He stood abruptly, pacing again like a caged animal, his breath coming faster now, panic close behind frustration.

“She doesn’t have friends. No family. No damn place to live. Didn’t even take the goddamn money. Where the hell did she go after walking out of here? Not even a note. Not a single damn message.”

His voice cracked, breaking with the weight of it all. He leaned on the desk, shoulders sagging, head bowed low.

“How could she just disappear like that?”

The silence stretched—until suddenly, his phone rang.

His hand flew to it like a lifeline.

“Krystal?” His heart leapt as he snatched it up, hope flashing in his eyes.

But it died just as fast when he saw the screen.

Xander Calling.

He exhaled sharply, dragging his composure back like a mask, and answered with a tight voice. “Yeah?”

“Mr. Moretti,” Xander said without preamble, “I just got a trace on Mrs. Moretti.”

Lorenzo stiffened.

The grip on his phone tightened until his knuckles turned white, his jaw locked so tight it hurt.

“Where is she?” he demanded, voice cutting like a blade.