Zane~
The faint ticking of the clock on my desk felt like it was taunting me. It read 2:00 a.m., but I couldn't stop the growing sense of fear clawing at my chest.
My office, usually a place of control and calculated decisions, felt small as the hours dragged by. I paced back and forth, my boots echoing against the polished floor, the occasional growl escaping my lips. Abel and Roland were out there searching, but their silence fed my frustration. My mind was in chaos, swirling with questions I couldn't answer.
"Natalie?" I muttered to myself, my voice tinged with frustration and guilt. "Where the hell are you?"
I leaned against the edge of my desk, gripping its surface tightly. My knuckles turned white as I closed my eyes and activated the mind link.
"Abel. Roland. Any sign of her?"
Abel's voice came through, steady but strained. "We're still searching, your highness. We've combed through the east district, but no sign of her yet. We'll check the outskirts next."
Roland chimed in next, his tone equally grim. "We're moving fast, but it's a big city. If she's trying to hide, it won't be easy to track her."
I exhaled sharply, rubbing my temples. "Keep me updated. Don't stop until you find her."
Their acknowledgments faded, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more. I'd brought her here, plucked her out of a small-town homeless shelter and into this chaotic city. If something happened to her, it would be on me.
The clock read 3:43 a.m., the glowing numbers mocking me with their indifference. My restlessness grew unbearable. What if she was hurt? What if she'd fallen into the wrong hands? The thought sent a pang through my chest, sharp and hurting. But why? Why did I care so much about a girl I barely knew? A lair for that matter?!
The answers eluded me.
I was about to reach for the mind link again when Abel's voice suddenly cut through my thoughts. "Your Highness! We found her."
Relief flooded my veins, but it was followed by a strange, unshakable anger. "Is she safe?"
"She's fine," Abel assured me. "We're bringing her back to the estate now."
The connection broke, leaving me standing in the middle of my office, my fists clenched at my sides. A flood of emotions churned inside me—relief, anger, and something deeper that I couldn't name. Without thinking, I ran to the living room, unable to sit still.
I stood by the door, my eyes fixed on the long driveway outside. The minutes dragged on, each one heavier than the last. Finally, the hum of an approaching vehicle broke the silence. Headlights illuminated the gravel path as a van pulled up.
The moment the doors opened, the scene erupted into chaos. Two of my men stepped out, dragging Natalie with them. She was kicking, thrashing, and screaming, her voice raw with desperation.
"Let me go!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't do anything wrong! Why are you doing this to me?!"
My heart twisted, but I forced myself to stay composed, stepping back from the door and pretending I hadn't been waiting for them.
"Bring her in," I ordered, my tone cold and commanding.
They carried her into the living room, her struggles subsiding only when they roughly dropped her onto the floor. She sat there, trembling, her tear-streaked face glaring up at me. But it wasn't just her glare that caught my attention—it was her appearance.
The filthy dress she'd been wearing earlier was gone, replaced by a green Jacket, a cream sweater, dark jeans, and boots. Her hair, previously disheveled, was combed, and a faint scent of roses lingered in the air.
I narrowed my eyes. "Where did you get those clothes?" I demanded, my voice sharp. "And how did you manage to escape my house? Last I checked, you didn't have any money."
Her glare grew harder. "If you're accusing me of stealing," she snapped, her voice shaking with anger, "you're wrong. Your friend—the masked man—bought them for me."
I froze, my mind reeling. "The masked man?"
She nodded, her jaw tight. "Yes, him. He bought me clothes, trinkets, and dinner. And then he handed me over to your men like I was some kind of... thing."
I turned to Abel and Roland, my voice low and dangerous. "Who is she talking about?"
Abel shifted uncomfortably. "My men said she was brought to them at a homeless shelter by someone dressed in black and wearing a mask. They didn't recognize him."
A surge of fury shot through me. I didn't know this man, yet he'd taken it upon himself to interfere with my affairs. And worse, hearing about him stirred something I couldn't explain—a possessiveness that burned through my veins.
Red, growled in the back of my mind, agitated and restless. He'd never reacted this way to anyone but Alexander and Emma. Not Nora. Not Charlie. No one. Yet this girl—this frustrating, infuriating, liar of a girl—stirred something raw inside me.
"Natalie," I said, my voice rising. "How many times are you going to lie to me? First Garrick, then Alpha Darius, and now this masked friend of yours. How many unexplained men are in your life?" My anger surged, and I couldn't hold back. "Who sent you after me? Was it Darius? Or your masked friend? Speak! Who sent you here to ruin my life and that of my son?!"
Her face suddenly turned as red as cherry, and before I could process what was happening, she was already on her feet.
"Ruin your life?" she screamed, her voice cracking with anger. "All you've done since you brought me here is accuse me of one thing after another! You know what? What happens in my life is none of your business!"
She took a shaky breath and stepped forward, her hands clenched into fists. "I'm done being treated like dirt by everyone around me. If you want to kill me, Zane, then go ahead and do it! At least I'll finally have some peace!"
My mind froze and I stood there, speechless.
Did she just yell at me?