Chapter 6 – Missing
2199 Words
Milan – Late Evening
It should have been an ordinary night.
The kind that ended with gelato cups crushed in hands, Luca complaining, Mia arguing, Arjun lecturing, Elena sketching, and Seina laughing until her stomach hurt.
But tonight, for the first time in forever, the group split early.
Luca had a football meetup.
Mia had a family call.
Arjun’s tutoring session got extended.
Elena had an early morning class.
Seina didn’t mind.
She hugged everyone, waved dramatically, promised she’d be home in half an hour.
She walked alone through the narrow Milan street, humming softly, swinging her tote bag softly at her side.
A group of tourists passed her.
A cyclist rang his bell.
A couple laughed near a café.
Everything felt normal.
Except—
that tug in her chest again.
That strange tightening she could never explain.
Like a whisper inside her head saying:
Something is wrong.
She shook it off.
“Stop being dramatic,” she muttered to herself, adjusting her coat.
Her phone dinged.
A message from Mia:
Reached home. Send a picture when you reach, grandma.
Seina grinned and typed back:
Okay, mom. Relax. I’m two streets away.
Another message popped up instantly.
Two streets is enough to be kidn*pped.
Do not argue. Send photo.
Seina laughed out loud.
“Yeah, yeah—” she murmured, lifting her phone.
She snapped a picture of the pastry shop across the street.
Then she stepped into the narrow alley that connected to her apartment building.
Not dark.
Not scary.
Just… quiet.
Too quiet.
But she kept walking, humming, scrolling her screen—
Until the streetlight above her flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then died.
The alley went black.
Seina’s steps slowed.
“…hello?” she called.
Silence.
Her hand tightened on her tote strap.
Another step.
Another flicker.
And then—
A hand clamped over her mouth.
Her scream never came.
Her phone fell, screen shattering on the stone walkway.
The last thing the cracked camera captured was her shoe sliding helplessly across the ground as she was dragged backward into the darkness.
The alley swallowed her.
Then the night swallowed the alley.
And Seina Wilson vanished.
Mia was the first to feel something wrong.
She called.
No answer.
Texted.
No blue tick.
Then she called again.
By 8 a.m., she had called Seina twelve times.
By 8:15, she was pounding on Luca’s door.
Luca opened it with one eye closed, hair a mess.
“Woman, why are you—”
“She didn’t send the picture.”
His eyes flew open.
“What?”
“Last night,” Mia said, voice trembling. “I told her to send a picture when she reached home. She didn’t. And she’s not replying.”
Luca grabbed his coat.
“Arjun and Elena?”
“Already on their way.”
Within twenty minutes, the four of them were standing in Seina’s living room.
Lights off.
Shoes in place.
Backpack untouched.
Her favourite mug still upside down on the dish rack.
Everything screamed one thing:
She never came home.
Mia paced frantically.
Luca checked the building cameras.
Arjun updated the police complaint form with shaking hands.
Elena silently cried in the corner.
“No. No, no, no—she would’ve called,” Mia said, voice cracking. “She always calls.”
Luca slammed his fist on the table. “Her phone’s off. It was ringing last night but now it’s dead.”
“What do we do?” Elena whispered.
Arjun swallowed hard.
“We find her.”
They did what any young adults in panic would do—they tried everything, everywhere, together and separately.
They searched the streets she usually walked.
They asked shopkeepers.
They went to her university.
They posted her photo online.
They begged police to take the case seriously.
They tracked the location of her last text.
They checked CCTV — first at the pastry shop, then the street, then the alley.
And there, in the footage, they saw it:
Seina walking into the alley.
But she never walked out.
The camera at the other end had gone offline.
“What does that mean?” Elena whispered.
Luca clenched his jaw.
“It means someone planned this.”
Europe – London – Same day
Leonardo stepped off the private jet, boots hitting the tarmac like someone returning to a battlefield.
His face was pale from lack of sleep and stress he refused to show.
The moment he entered the car, his head of security spoke fast:
“Sir, the Shadow Team hasn’t checked in since last night.”
Leonardo went still.
“And Seina?”
“No responses. No movement. No communication.”
He gripped the armrest so hard the leather dented.
“How many hours?”
“Eleven, sir.”
Leonardo felt the world tilt.
His voice was low, controlled.
Too controlled.
“Get the pilot ready. I’m flying to Milan. Now.”
The security chief hesitated.
“There’s more.”
Leonardo’s stomach dropped.
“What more?”
“Sir… the alley street camera near her apartment—someone cut the power.”
Leonardo’s pulse spiked.
“And Seina?”
The man swallowed.
“Missing.”
Leonardo’s eyes closed for half a second.
Just half.
Then he opened them, steel burning behind his gaze.
“Notify Milan authorities. Mobilize every asset. No discretion. No limits.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And one more thing,” Leonardo said.
He looked out the window at the grey London sky.
“Find out who leaked her existence.”
Milan – Nightfall
Leonardo reached the alley.
His feet froze on the very cobblestones where Seina’s phone lay shattered last night.
He didn’t kneel.
He didn’t gasp.
He didn’t cry.
He went silent.
Deep, terrible silence.
“Sir?” one of the guards whispered.
Leonardo raised a hand.
The men fell silent.
He stared at the broken phone.
At the faint smear of heel mark.
At the dark patch on the wall where someone had leaned or struggled.
He closed his eyes.
And for the first time in decades…
He felt fear.
Real fear.
“She’s gone,” he whispered.
The wind carried his words into the narrow alley, and the world seemed to listen.
“She’s gone.”
Milan – Midnight
The alley had been sealed off.
Blue police tape fluttered in the cold draft, officers spoke in low clipped Italian, and flashing lights washed the stone walls in waves of red and blue.
But Leonardo barely noticed any of them.
He was kneeling now.
Slowly. Carefully.
His gloved hand hovered over the shattered remnants of Seina’s phone.
A phone case she had chosen herself—a cheap clear silicone cover with tiny pressed flowers inside. Something simple. Something innocent.
He picked up a small shard of the cover between his fingers.
It trembled.
Not because of the cold.
Behind him, his head of security spoke softly.
“We’ve pulled all nearby CCTV. The alley camera cuts out at 23:14. Power severed cleanly. Professional.”
Leonardo rose to his full height.
“Has the Shadow Team checked in?”
“No, sir.”
“Track their last known GPS.”
“We did. Their devices went offline within minutes of each other, exactly six hours before Seina disappeared.”
Leonardo’s eyes darkened.
Someone had struck first.
Not at him.
Not at his empire.
At her.
“Run every face, every car, every shadow that crossed this area,” Leonardo said. “I want names. I want plates. I want every shop owner interviewed and every digital footprint extracted.”
“We’re already on it.”
Leonardo inhaled deeply.
His chest felt tight.
Heavy.
Like grief waiting at the door.
“We’re not fast enough,” he whispered.
Across Milan, Seina’s friends sat on the floor of her small apartment — a place that suddenly felt too empty.
A place that felt like her absence had carved a hollow into the walls.
Mia was crying openly now, her knees pulled to her chest.
“I should have walked her home,” she kept whispering. “I should have.”
“It’s not your fault,” Arjun said gently.
“Yes, it is! She said she was close! I should’ve made her video call!”
“Mia,” Luca said, voice louder, firmer. “Stop. This isn’t on you. Whoever did this… they planned it. They took out cameras. They hit the timing perfectly.”
Elena’s voice was barely above a whisper. “That… doesn’t make me feel better.”
“It’s meant to tell you,” Luca said, jaw tight, “that this is bigger than us. Someone powerful did this.”
Mia wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“What if she’s hurt? What if she’s scared?”
Luca put an arm around her.
“We’ll find her,” he said. “I swear we will.”
Arjun looked up suddenly.
“We should call her guardian.”
“What guardian?” Mia asked.
“You know,” Arjun said slowly. “That old man she talks about sometimes. Leonardo.”
Luca’s brow furrowed. “I thought she meant a professor or something.”
“No,” Arjun said. “She once said he visits her occasionally. Checks on her. I thought it was weird but… maybe we should try.”
“Do you have his number?” Elena asked.
“No.”
“Does anyone?”
They all shook their heads.
Silence.
Then Mia whispered:
“He’ll come. Wherever he is… he’ll come for her.”
Back in Europe, whispers began to move through the underworld.
Not loud.
Not public.
Just quiet, careful murmurs:
“Wilson’s heir is missing.”
“Someone moved first.”
“The old man is spiraling.”
“Someone’s about to die.”
One whisper reached a man in a darkened office.
A man known only as Ghost.
He read the message on his encrypted screen:
THE GIRL IS TAKEN.
MOVE TO PHASE TWO.
He smiled.
A slow, cold, dangerous smile.
“It begins,” he murmured.
Leonardo didn’t remember the drive back to Seina’s apartment.
He didn’t remember climbing the stairs.
Didn’t remember knocking the door.
Didn’t remember Luca opening it, wide-eyed and startled.
He only remembered looking around — seeing her books, her notes, her shoes lined neatly near the door, the small painting she kept above the couch.
Everything she left behind.
Everything she would return to.
He stepped inside.
Slowly.
The friends stood silent. Mia sobbing softly, Elena clutching her sketchbook, Luca standing tall and protective even though he was shaking, Arjun watching Leonardo like he was studying a god in pain.
Leonardo walked toward Seina’s desk.
Her handwriting danced on notebook pages.
Small doodles in the margins.
A list of grocery items.
A reminder to buy chocolates for Mia’s birthday.
His throat tightened.
He touched the edge of her notebook with trembling fingers.
Then—
He broke.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just—
His shoulders dropped.
His head bowed.
A long, shaking breath left him.
The room froze.
This was a man they had only heard rumors about.
A man whose power stretched across continents, whose wealth rivaled nations.
Seeing him like this hurt more than anything.
Luca stepped forward.
“We will help,” he said. “Just tell us what to do.”
Leonardo didn’t look at him.
He whispered:
“I should have brought her home.”
Hours later, the investigation officer approached Leonardo outside the station.
“Sir… we reviewed footage from a shop earlier in the street.”
Leonardo’s eyes snapped open.
“What did you find?”
“A van,” the officer said. “Black. No plates. Parked with a clear view of the alley.”
“Did you see who got out?”
“No. The tint was too dark.”
“But—” the officer continued, “the moment the alley lights died, the van started.”
Leonardo’s pulse hammered.
“They knew when to move.”
“Yes,” the officer said. “Whoever took her… had perfect timing.”
Perfect planning.
Perfect execution.
Not random.
Not accidental.
Targeted.
Leonardo closed his eyes briefly.
The world felt like it was slipping from his hands.
Seina Pov:
Darkness.
Cold metal under her back.
A faint chemical smell in the air.
Her head pounded.
Her limbs felt heavy.
Her throat was dry.
She tried to move—
And realized her wrists were bound.
Panic surged up her chest like fire.
She opened her eyes in a quick, terrified gasp.
Dark room.
Concrete floor.
Single light bulb flickering overhead.
Her breathing grew rapid.
Harsh.
Strangled.
“Hello?” she whispered.
Her voice echoed back.
No answer.
Then—
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Unhurried.
Coming closer.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
A shadow appeared in the doorway.
Then a voice.
Smooth. Low.
“You wake quickly,” the stranger said.
“Good. We have much to discuss.”
Seina’s breath hitched.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
The man stepped into the light.
A face she had never seen.
Eyes she would never forget.
“You,” he said softly,
“are going to change the world.”
- Writer
