(Back to Raventon city: the morning after)
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The city skyline stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of the luxury suite, the early morning sun casting a golden glow over the glass towers. The world outside was already awake, bustling with life, but inside the dimly lit hotel room, everything was still.
Too still.
David stirred, his body heavy with the remnants of sleep. The lingering scent of her perfume clung to the sheets, mixing with the faint trace of whiskey on his breath. It should have been comforting. But something was off.
He reached out instinctively, his hand brushing against cold sheets.
Empty.
His eyes snapped open.
The space beside him was untouched, as if no one had been there at all. But she had been. He fucking knew she had been.
He sat up, the events of last night flashing through his head. Emily—her body beneath his, the way she moaned his name, the way she looked at him afterward, like she was fucking lost. But now? Now she was nowhere to be found.
Where the fuck was she?
David swung his legs off the bed and stood, running a hand through his messy hair as he checked the bathroom. Empty. His suit jacket was still draped over the chair, his watch on the nightstand, but Emily—Emily was gone.
A muscle in his jaw ticked. He checked the closet, the small lounge area, even the balcony. Nothing.
A sharp exhale left his lips. She really fucking left.
David didn't know why that irritated him so much. Women didn't leave him—he was the one who left. But Emily? She slipped away before morning like she was trying to erase the night.
His hands clenched into fists before he let out a bitter chuckle. "Unbelievable."
Annoyance prickled beneath his skin as he grabbed his phone, but then it hit him—he didn't even have her fucking number.
A humorless laugh left his lips. Of course.
His expression hardened as he pressed the intercom button. "Get the hotel staff up here. Now."
—
Minutes later, a line of employees stood stiffly in his suite, their faces tense with fear. David sat in his chair by the window, exuding a cold, sharp authority that made their stomachs twist.
His voice was calm, but deadly. "Where is she?"
Silence. Some exchanged nervous glances, others stared at the floor.
David's patience snapped. "I said, where the fuck is she?"
One of them finally spoke up, swallowing hard. "Sir, she left this morning."
His grip on the chair tightened. "Did any of you stop her?"
"She… she didn't seem like she wanted to be stopped," another muttered hesitantly.
David inhaled slowly through his nose, eyes dark with irritation. "And none of you thought to fucking tell me?"
No one dared to respond.
"Get out."
They didn't need to be told twice. The staff scattered like frightened mice, leaving David alone with his spiraling thoughts.
The second the door shut, David let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face. She really walked out like it was nothing.
She fucking left.
Something about that pissed him off.
He sat back, running a hand over his face. Maybe he should have expected it. Emily wasn't just any woman—she wasn't like the usual women who clung to him, hoping for more. But still, something about how she left… it didn't sit right.
A sinking feeling settled in his chest. Was he ever going to see her again?
No. That thought was unacceptable.
He tried to shake off the feeling, but it lingered in his chest, gnawing at him.
Then, a thought struck him.
His godmother, Mrs. Rachel.
A smirk tugged at his lips. Emily lived in the same building as his godmother. That meant he could find her—whenever he fucking wanted.
Relief washed over him for a brief second as he grabbed his phone and dialed Mrs. Rachel's number. He barely had time to register the absurdity of the situation—he didn't even have Emily's fucking contact information.
He grabbed his phone and dialed Mrs. Rachel.
It didn't take long for Mrs. Rachel to pick up. "David, dear! Good morning! How are you?" Her voice was warm and welcoming, but he could hear the faint hint of sleep in her tone.
"Morning, Godmother," he greeted, trying to mask the frustration in his voice. "Listen, I need to ask you about Emily."
There was a brief pause before she responded. "Emily? What about her? Everything okay?"
David clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on the phone. He had hoped Mrs. Rachel would say Emily was at home, but the confusion in her voice told him otherwise. She had no idea. Which meant Emily hadn't come back.
The silence stretched between them. Mrs. Rachel called his name, concern creeping into her tone. "David? Are you still there?"
He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, then finally spoke.
"She's gone."
His grip on the phone tightened. A wave of frustration flooded him. She wasn't just gone from the hotel—no, something told him she wasn't coming back at all. A part of him knew it, and yet, he couldn't accept it. He didn't want to fucking accept it.
The world outside continued its busy hum, but inside the hotel room, David felt nothing but stillness. He didn't care if the city moved on or not. He didn't care if the whole fucking world kept turning. He wanted answers. He wanted to know where she went, why she left, and what the hell had just happened between them.
But Emily wasn't here. She was gone, and there was nothing he could do to change that.
Mrs. Rachel called his name again, but David didn't answer. He couldn't even hear her over the pounding in his head. His eyes narrowed as he stared out the window, the cold glass feeling like a barrier between him and the world he once understood.
Finally, he ended the call, the phone slipping from his ear with a harsh click.
Silence.
The weight of the truth pressed down on him, suffocating him in the empty room. She was gone, and somehow, he knew he was never going to see her again.