Nicholas had never felt desperation like this.
Not even when his father died.
Not even when the board threatened to strip him of ThorneCorp.
But now?
Now he was drowning in it.
Because Alina was gone.
Vanished into the wind like she’d never existed. Her apartment empty. Phone off. No credit card charges. No social media trail. It was like she’d erased herself.
And every second she was gone?
His fury grew louder.
He paced his penthouse, shirt wrinkled, tie discarded, whiskey untouched on the table.
Then he barked into the phone. “I don’t give a damn what it takes. Private jets, cameras, bribes—I want her found.”
His assistant trembled on the other end. “Yes, sir.”
He ended the call.
Punched the wall.
Blood smeared across his knuckles.
He didn’t care.
He was unraveling.
Beca
