Chapter 35
817 Words
Elias POV
Thirty minutes had passed since Mara excused herself.
Amira’s laughter drifted toward me, light and careless, but it barely registered. I checked my watch, again. And again. Nothing. Mara hadn’t returned.
A tight knot formed in my chest.
Amira leaned closer, her perfume sharp, cloying. “Are you even listening to me?” she asked, her tone playful, flirtatious.
I didn’t answer.
My gaze swept the room, sliding past glittering lights and bodies moving to the pulse of the music. I searched every face, every corner.
She wasn’t there.
I pushed back from the table and stood. “Excuse me,” I muttered, already stepping away.
The dance floor swallowed me whole—heat, noise, movement. I cut through the crowd, eyes sharp, scanning relentlessly.
Nothing.
No trace of her.
My pulse began to race, tension creeping into my limbs. She shouldn’t just disappear. Not like this.
I stepped outside, the night air slamming into me. My chest tightened as anxiety clawed its way up my throat. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number.
It rang.
No answer.
I tried again. Still nothing.
Then—
From the corner of my eye, I saw it.
A faint glow on the ground. Pulsing weakly.
My breath caught as I walked closer realizing with a jolt that it was her phone.
I bent down and picked it up, fear building up violently in my chest. The screen went dark in my hand.
She had been here.
And now she is gone.
Something was wrong.
I gripped her phone tightly, my knuckles white, and spun on my heel. The music and laughter from inside the club felt distant, almost mocking. My steps were swift and purposeful as I stormed past the VIP lounge and into the restricted area, ignoring the startled looks from staff and security.
“I need the manager,” I snapped at the nearest staff member. “Now. I need access to the CCTV footage from the outside entrances. Immediately.”
The staff member hesitated, eyes flicking around nervously. “Sir… you’re not supposed to”
“I don’t care,” I barked, my voice slicing through the music. “Get me the Manager.”
The delay set my nerves on fire.
Then heavy footsteps approached. A tall man emerged from the back, authoritative, alert. The moment he saw me, his eyes widened.
“Mr. Lawson,” he said quickly. “We apologize for the inconvenience. We’ll get you whatever you need.”
I didn’t reply. I followed him straight to the surveillance room.
Screens covered the walls—entrances, exits, the bar, the dance floor, the alley.
“Thirty minutes ago,” I ordered. “The main entrance.”
He complied.
And then I saw her.
Mara stepped out of the club, her back to the camera. She paused, standing alone, uncertain. My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
Then a man approached from behind.
My body went rigid.
His steps were slow. Intentional.
My stomach twisted as Mara turned slightly, as if considering going back inside when she almost collided with the man.
She panicked.
She turned left, moving fast, defensive.
And then I saw another man.
Joining the first.
My breath turned shallow.
The footage didn’t show what happened next. Only that she vanished beyond the camera’s reach.
She was in danger.
I left the security room without a word, ignoring Amira’s confused stare as I headed straight out.
My car was waiting.
I drove like a man possessed, the city blurring past me. Every red light felt like an insult. My mind spiraled—fear, anger, guilt crashing into each other.
I shouldn’t have let her leave alone.
I barely remembered arriving home.
I stormed straight upstairs, bypassing everyone at the dining table, and entered her room. Her sweet scent of vanilla hit me instantly.
But she wasn’t there.
I turned and headed back down, phone already in my hand about making some calls.
“Elias,” Camille said gently, standing. “You should eat something”
“Mara is missing,” I cut in.
The room froze.
Camille let out a small, uncertain laugh. “That’s not possible. She’ll be back. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I said she’s missing!” I shouted, my voice cracking through the room. “And you’re saying there's nothing to worry about?!”
There was silence.
I didn’t wait for answers.
I turned away and went upstairs, fury and fear tearing through me. I needed to think. To act.
I slammed my bedroom door shut and dialed a number.
Before it connected, my phone buzzed.
A message.
>You must have realized she’s missing. If you involve the police, you will never see her again.
My fists clenched as my blood turned cold.
Whoever had taken Mara had just declared war.
And I was ready to burn everything to get her back.
- Writer
