Falling For Mr. Tyson

Emery Is Missing!

Hendrix

"That's a nice piece of machinery," I murmured, my eyes tracing the aggressive, aerodynamic lines of Owen's latest creation.

Owen Black and I had been inseparable since we were kids. Our parents ran in the same elite circles, a history that naturally cemented a lifelong brotherhood. Today, he had dragged me to the private testing track at Black Motor Corporation. As the reigning king of the luxury hyper car industry, he never launched a vehicle without giving me the first glimpse.

"Nice?" Owen smirked, tossing his keys in the air and catching them with a cocky grin. "Hendrix, this is the Black Vesper Nocturne. It's a custom-engineered, twin-turbocharged V8 predator. Seven hundred horsepower of pure, unfiltered adrenaline." He gestured toward the open asphalt.

"What do you say, Tyson? Want to go for a test race, or are you too corporate for a manual transmission these days?"

A dark smirk pulled at the corner of my lips. "I'm in. And prepare to get embarrassed."

Ten minutes later, his mechanics had both hypercars fired up on the starting grid. I slid into the tight, carbon-fiber bucket seat of my vehicle, the deep, guttural roar of the engine vibrating straight through my spine.

Owen revved his engine beside me, his car purring like a caged beast. He rolled down his tinted window, a cocky grin on his chiseled face. "Last chance to back out and preserve your fragile ego, Tyson!"

I adjusted my grip on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. "The day I lose a race to you, Black, is the day hell freezes over."

The green light flashed and we launched.

The acceleration slammed me back into my seat, a violent surge of g-force as the car tore down the straightaway. The handling was terrifyingly smooth, responding to my slightest touch as we drifted around the sharp corners of the private track. We traded the lead twice over three intense laps, the tires screaming against the hot asphalt.

But on the final stretch, I punched the throttle, cut off his inside line, and crossed the finish line a full car length ahead of him.

I cut the engine, stepping out into the warm afternoon air as Owen rolled his car to a stop beside me.

"See who was bragging?" I called out, leaning against the roof of my car as he climbed out, shaking his head.

"I still can't believe you beat me," Owen muttered, throwing his hands up in mock outrage. "I built the damn thing, and you still out-maneuvered me. I'm convinced you cheated. Did you bribe my mechanics, Tyson?"

"Skill isn't a cheat, Black," I chuckled, walking alongside him toward a shaded canopy where a private table and ice-cold refreshments were set up.

We grabbed a pair of towels, wiping the sweat from our brows before slouching into the leather chairs. I reached for a crystal glass, drinking the water in heavy gulps.

Owen leaned back, steepling his fingers as his gaze settled on me. "So, tell me. How are my godchildren doing? Is Ryan still crushing his soccer leagues?"

"Ryan's at an advanced sports clinic today, and Emery is out getting ice cream," I replied, setting the glass down with a heavy clink.

"Good, good," Owen nodded. His expression shifted from playful to unusually serious. "But what about you, Hendrix?"

I kept my face entirely blank. "As you can see, I'm perfectly fine."

"No, I'm talking about your disaster of a relationship life," Owen pressed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Don't you think it's time for you to actually let another woman into your world? There are a million high-society bachelorettes out there who would literally give their right arm to be your wife. Unless... tell me the truth, Hendrix. Do you still love your ex-wife?"

"I do not love her!" I snapped, the words cutting through the air like a knife as I ground my teeth together.

"Then what the hell is stopping you?" Owen demanded. "It's been a full year since the divorce papers were finalized, and you're still carrying around the baggage like it's a life sentence. I can assure you, Rosie has already forgotten you. She's currently flashing her new billionaire boyfriend all over Europe. Why can't you find that same happiness for yourself?"

Rosie Brown. The name alone left a bitter, metallic taste in my mouth. We had met in college, a beautiful, whirlwind romance that completely blinded me. One thing led to another, we dated, got married, and welcomed our firstborn, Ryan.

Everything was perfect — until our second child came along. At that exact time, my real estate empire hit a massive crisis, almost sliding into complete bankruptcy. Terrified of losing everything, I buried myself in work — twenty hours a day in boardrooms, completely forgetting I had a wife and kids waiting at home.

By the time my daughter turned three, Rosie had packed her bags. She demanded a divorce, stating coldly that I had no time for her, that I was a ghost.

And the worst part was... I realized it was the absolute truth. I wanted to resolve it, and fix our broken pieces, but she looked me in the eye and said she no longer loved me. She had already moved on to someone else.

So, I signed the papers, granting her the freedom she wanted.

"You know what, Owen?" I sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of my nose as the old phantom guilt flared up. "I don't have time for romance. I have two kids to focus on. They are my only priority."

Owen let out a loud, incredulous laugh. "What? What about your own human needs, man? Don't you ever feel the urge to just have s*x sometimes? You're forty, Hendrix, not dead."

I shot him a lethal glare. "I am not a hypersexual creature like you, Black. Keep your bedroom antics out of my timeline."

"Hey, I'm just stating facts—"

Owen was cut off by the sharp, demanding ringtone of my phone vibrating on the table.

I breathed a silent prayer of gratitude, snatching it up. But the second I saw the caller ID, a heavy dread coiled in my gut. It was Maria, my children's trusted live-in nanny.

I stood up, pressing the phone to my ear. "Hello, Maria."

"M-Mr. Tyson..." a frantic, breathless voice gasped over the line. She was sobbing hysterically, her words breaking apart. "Mr. Tyson, something terrible happened... oh my god, I'm so sorry..."

Every single muscle in my body violently locked into place. My blue eyes darkened into dangerous ice. "Maria, calm down and speak to me. What happened?"

"It's Emery!" the nanny wailed, her voice cracking with pure panic. "We went to the upscale shopping plaza like you planned... we were outside the ice cream parlor... she pointed to a toy in the window... I turned my back for one single second to pay the cashier, Mr. Tyson, I swear! And when I looked down... she was gone. I can't find her anywhere. Emery is missing!"

"What?!" I roared, the sheer force of my voice causing Owen to violently snap to his feet.

A wave of raw, terrifying adrenaline flooded my veins, my heart hammering like a war drum. "Tell me your exact coordinates right now! Where are you?!"

She frantically sobbed out the name of the high-end shopping district before her phone line went completely dead.

"Hendrix, what is it? What happened?" Owen demanded, stepping up beside me.

"I have to go," I rasped, with a terrifying rage as I pocketed my phone. "Emery wandered off. My daughter is missing in the middle of the city."

Owen's face drained of color, the shock in his eyes matching the panic clawing at my own chest.

"What?" he breathed. "Let's go. We'll find her together."

I gave a single, curt nod.

Neither of us wasted another second.

Owen broke into a run toward his own car while I strode toward mine, my pulse pounding violently in my ears. The driver was already scrambling to open the rear door, but I was inside before he could fully reach it.

As the engine roared to life, I yanked my phone from my pocket and dialed my head of security.

"Deploy every available man to the shopping plaza immediately," I ordered, my voice cold and razor-sharp. "Alert the police commissioner as well. I want every entrance, exit, parking lot, and surrounding street searched."

"Yes, sir."

The call ended and I clenched the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white, my mind spiraling through a thousand terrifying possibilities.

"Drive fast," I barked at the driver.

He slammed his foot on the accelerator, and the car shot onto the road.

....If anyone touches my little girl, I am going to tear this city apart...