Dominic
The call came just as dusk was settling over the city, the sky bleeding shades of purple and orange through my office window. I was nursing a cold drink, mind heavy from another day lost to fruitless searches, when the phone shattered the silence.
"Dominic Blackwell," I answered, voice clipped.
"We have a sighting," the voice said, calm but urgent. "Near the outskirts of the city—about twenty miles from your estate. Our team spotted a woman matching Lila's description."
My heart slammed against my ribs. Twenty miles. So close.
"Are you sure?" I demanded.
"Positive ID was tough—she was with two others, looked like family. We didn't approach, but it's definitely her."
I gripped the phone tighter, knuckles white. Months of chasing shadows, and now—finally—a thread to pull.
"Get me everything you've got," I said, voice low but fierce.
The operator promised updates as they gathered more intel.
I paced the room, my mind racing through every possibility.
Was she safe? Was she hiding, or did she want to be found?
My gut twisted with a strange mix of hope and fear.
I couldn't lose her again.
Not now.
Not ever.
I pulled out my phone, calling my security team. "Prepare a car. We're heading out."
As I grabbed my coat, the empire I'd built — the power, the money — felt meaningless against the burning need to find her.
Because this wasn't just about control anymore.
It was about redemption.
And maybe, just maybe, a chance to fix what had broken between us.