Chapter 77

Day 12:

“There have been zero transactions?” I asked Peter.

“Zero, sir,” he confirmed, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Has Lou called back yet?”

“No, sir. Mrs. Whitlock and Luna both flew out the day after she…” He paused, looking away. “Left. Lou discovered her flight went to either Chicago or Philadelphia. The authorities refused to release their CCTV footage, although your grandfather did ask the mayor to intervene. We haven’t heard back from the airport authorities.”

I nodded. At least she was safe.

“Call our contacts in both Chicago and Philadelphia and ask them to search for her. If they can find any reservations or registrations under the name Sophia Whitlock, I want to know.”

Peter nodded, then stared at me. I took a breath. “What is it?”

“With all due respect, sir, I… I don’t think she would travel as Sophia Whitlock.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I… I believe,” he said, taking a deep breath, “she’s using the name Sophia Baker now.”

Reality hit me, crushing me. I nodded without meeting his gaze. “Ask them to search for Sophia Baker then.”

Day 17:

“She mentioned she has a house in London,” I told Lou during our twenty-minute call. “She inherited it from her father, and if she’s nowhere else, she might have gone there.”

“London is huge, Mr. Whitlock. You can’t just pinpoint a location and expect me to find her. Besides, I have no contacts there. My hands are tied.”

I sighed and cursed under my breath. Every avenue was a dead end.

“Thank you for everything, Lou. Please keep looking for her. Don’t stop!”

She seemed to hesitate. “Okay,” she replied, then the call ended.

I closed my laptop, staring out at the dark streets and the gathering storm clouds. Everyone had gone home, but not me. Going home was too painful; the ghosts of her smiles and touch haunted me. My work had become my refuge. I’d started staying here.

Zach, whose presence I’d forgotten, cleared his throat. “Maybe she doesn’t want to be found, Gabriel.”

“I need to get her home, Zach. I need to…” My voice trailed off, lost and weary.

Zach’s sympathy was evident in his voice. “Sleep, buddy. You need rest.”

Day on:

I was going to London. I had to oversee the Whitlock company expansion, but that wasn’t the only reason. If there was even the slightest chance of finding my wife, I was going to take it. My departure was scheduled for next week.

I returned home that day, exhausted. Even the housekeepers seemed surprised; I’d stopped coming home, visiting only once a week to collect food and clothes. I lived in my office, sleeping on the couch and showering in the bathroom my grandfather had installed years ago. I simply couldn’t bear being home.

“Sir, a delivery arrived a few days ago,” one of the housekeepers said, seemingly nervous.

“Bring it to my room.”

I had no intention of waiting, but curiosity won out when she returned with a box. I opened it to reveal a blue square box containing a ring—Sophia’s gift, one I’d ordered months ago.

My hands trembled as I held the ring, fearing I would drop it. It wasn’t the gold that captivated me, but the engraving inside: SGW—Sophia Gabriel Whitlock.

All hope drained away. The sting in my eyes blurred my vision. Deep breaths couldn’t alleviate the pain I’d carried for three weeks. My carefree life was gone, and this ring was the only souvenir she left.

Present Day:

I entered my apartment after midnight. My grandfather had bought this penthouse years ago, and I’d always loved the view. We’d expanded to London six months ago, and I should have returned home immediately afterward, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I didn’t particularly like London, but it offered the escape I needed.

My wife was gone. I could wear her wedding ring, but I couldn’t find her.

I felt my phone vibrate—probably Peter. It was late back home, and he called before leaving for the day, as he had for the past six months, reporting no new developments. Lou had nothing new. My investigators had nothing new. Nothing. She vanished like smoke.

My phone buzzed again, then stopped. It buzzed again later, but I ignored it. I was too tired, mentally and physically exhausted from chasing a ghost. I would deal with Peter’s calls tomorrow.

[Author’s Note: Darmien’s story will be released by the end of this month! Daily updates begin April 1st. It’s called His Obsession, and it’s a mafia romance—darker, hotter, and more intricately plotted. You can contact me at heermangtanii on Instagram or heermangtang@icloud.com. Thank you!]