Chapter 18: The Man Who Lost Me
1100 Words
Bonny’s POV
Of course it was Seth.
Because peace, apparently, offended the universe.
Adrian looked at the screen once, then declined the call.
I exhaled.
“Good choice.”
The phone rang again immediately.
Persistent i***t.
He silenced it this time and set it on the counter.
“That should hold him for six minutes,” he said.
“Specific.”
“He lacks patience.”
“I could have told you that for free.”
The phone buzzed again.
Then again.
Then a message preview lit the screen.
Please. It’s urgent. It’s about Amelia.
I went still.
Adrian noticed.
“Do you want to read it?”
“No.”
The answer came too fast.
He studied me.
“That means yes.”
“I hate when you’re right.”
“Frequently, then.”
The phone buzzed again.
Bonny, she’s gone. She took Kristy.
My stomach dropped.
Whatever Amelia had done to me, there was still a child in the middle of this.
I looked at Adrian.
“I need to know what that means.”
He handed me the phone without comment.
I opened the messages.
More had come in.
She emptied the account.
Left a note.
I can’t find them.
Please help me.
I stared at the screen.
Karma had excellent timing.
But there was a little girl involved.
“What do you want to do?” Adrian asked.
The question mattered more than it should have.
He wasn’t telling me.
He was asking.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“That’s honest.”
“Don’t reward me for confusion.”
He took the phone back when it rang again.
This time he answered.
“Seth.”
Pause.
“No, she is not alone.”
Another pause.
Adrian’s expression cooled further.
“You may speak briefly.”
He held the phone out to me.
I hesitated.
Then took it.
“Seth.”
His relief was immediate and irritating.
“Bonny—thank God.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
“Please listen. Amelia took Kristy and left. She cleaned out everything. I don’t know where they are.”
“Did she leave because you cheated on her too?”
Silence.
Then:
“This isn’t funny.”
“No,” I said quietly. “It isn’t.”
He sounded wrecked.
Good.
Then guilty for thinking that.
“She said I deserved to lose everything,” he said. “Then she left.”
I leaned against the counter.
“What do you want from me?”
“I need help finding Kristy.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why would I know where she is?”
“You know Amelia. Better than anyone.”
Not true anymore.
I knew who I thought she was.
That woman no longer existed.
Or maybe never had.
“I haven’t spoken to her,” I said. “And if she took her daughter, she may simply be leaving you.”
“She wouldn’t do this.”
I almost laughed.
The irony was obscene.
“She absolutely would,” I said. “You taught her how betrayal works.”
He went silent.
Then:
“I know I hurt you.”
“Late realization.”
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at Adrian across the kitchen.
He was watching me steadily.
No interruption.
No rescue.
Just presence.
“Sorry is a receipt,” I said into the phone. “It proves something happened. It doesn’t reverse it.”
Another silence.
Then Seth’s voice broke slightly.
“I lost everything.”
I answered before pity could interfere.
“No. You spent everything.”
Then I ended the call.
My hand trembled afterward.
I hated that.
Adrian took the phone from me gently and set it aside.
“You were harsh.”
“I was accurate.”
His mouth curved faintly.
“Concerning influence.”
I exhaled shakily.
“There’s a child involved.”
“Yes.”
“That part bothers me.”
“It should.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“I don’t know whether I feel sorry for him.”
“You don’t have to.”
“That sounds cold.”
“It sounds efficient.”
I pointed at him.
“You’re infecting my vocabulary.”
“Improvement often feels invasive.”
I almost smiled.
Then didn’t.
“What if something’s wrong?”
“With the child?”
“Yes.”
He considered.
“Then authorities should be contacted. Not ex-fiancées.”
Fair.
Annoyingly fair.
My phone buzzed this time.
Unknown number.
Then another message.
I opened it.
A photo loaded.
Amelia.
At an airport terminal.
Kristy asleep against her shoulder.
And beneath it:
Don’t let him find me. He deserves this.
My blood ran cold.
Adrian stepped closer.
“Who?”
I handed him the phone.
He read it once.
Then looked at me.
“She sent this to you?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.”
“No, alarming.”
“She trusts your silence.”
“She misunderstands me.”
I took the phone back and stared at the image.
Kristy looked safe.
At least for now.
But this was revenge using a child as leverage.
Unforgivable.
“What are you going to do?” Adrian asked.
Again asking.
Again letting me choose.
I lifted my chin.
“I’m not helping Seth.”
Reasonable.
“I’m not helping Amelia hide.”
Better.
“I’m helping the child.”
His eyes held mine.
“Good.”
One word.
But it landed warm.
“What does that mean practically?” I asked.
“It means we call a family lawyer, then child services advisors, then determine legal exposure.”
I blinked.
“You have advisors for everything.”
“I have resources.”
He reached for his phone.
Then paused.
“Bonny.”
“Yes?”
“You do not owe either of them emotional labor.”
The sentence hit unexpectedly deep.
No one had ever said something like that to me.
No one had ever suggested I was allowed boundaries without guilt.
I swallowed.
“Okay.”
He nodded once.
Then made three calls in under ten minutes.
Efficient man.
Dangerously useful man.
Later, when the crisis machinery had begun moving, the penthouse quieted again.
I stood by the window.
Tired.
He joined me.
Not touching.
Just near.
After a moment, I said softly:
“You answered Seth’s call for me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His voice was calm.
“Because some doors should not open unless someone stands beside you.”
I turned to look at him.
And for once…
I had no defense ready at all.
- Writer
