Worship Him

19. Adam

19

ADAM

I drink the last of my coffee, adjusting my tie. I’m meeting with the board of investors in a few minutes, but I can't focus on the impending meeting. My mind keeps drifting to Destiny and that night four days ago.

The silence between us since then is deafening.

My phone vibrates, a news alert flashing across the screen. I tap it, my stomach dropping as I see the image.

Destiny. Avery. Suitcases. Airport.

"What the hell," I mutter, gripping the phone so tight my knuckles turn white.

Is she running? Taking my daughter away?

Surely she wouldn’t do that after everything we’ve been through. She seemed so full of remorse when she apologized.

I dial Destiny's number, my foot tapping an impatient rhythm against the polished floor. Straight to voicemail.

"Destiny, it's Adam. Call me back. Now."

I try again. Nothing.

"Mr. Ryder?" My assistant pokes her head in. "The board is ready for you."

"Reschedule it," I snap, grabbing my jacket. "Something's come up."

"But sir, they've been waiting-"

"I said reschedule it!"

The door slams behind me as I walk towards the elevator. My mind races, trying to understand what the photos could mean.

The elevator descends too slowly. I loosen my tie, feeling trapped in my suit.

"Come on, come on," I mutter, watching the numbers tick down.

My phone buzzes again. Another news alert. I open it, hoping for more information, anything to explain what's happening.

Instead, I'm greeted by speculation about my company's stock prices. The last thing I’m thinking about now.

The elevator doors finally open and I push past a waiting group of employees, ignoring their startled looks.

I stride towards my car, my mind a whirlwind of anger and concern. How long have these vultures been circling around Destiny? The thought of paparazzi stalking her and Avery makes my blood boil.

My little girl, barely three months old, already thrust into this hungry frenzy.

"Damnit," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "Bastards."

A voice cuts through my haze. "Mr. Ryder? Your car, sir."

I blink, realizing I've walked right past my valet and the sleek black Audi. Shaking my head, I turn back.

"Thanks, Jake. I'll take it from here."

Jake hesitates, keys still in hand. "Are you sure, sir? You seem a bit... distracted."

I fix him with a hard stare. "I said I'll take it from here."

He quickly hands over the keys, backing away. "Of course, Mr. Ryder. Have a good day."

I slide into the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel tight.

I need a plan. Anger makes me exhale loudly. There isn’t much I can do if Destiny had already left. Who knows how long ago those pictures were taken?

My phone buzzes again. Another news alert. I snatch it up. It's more predictions about my company's AI projects.

"Useless," I growl, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat.

I start the car, the engine purring to life. As I pull out of the parking garage, my mind races. How did they even find out about Avery? We've been so careful.

A honk jolts me back to reality. I've nearly run a red light. Cursing under my breath, I slam on the brakes. The car behind me lays on the horn again.

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, waving an apologetic hand out the window.

I need to focus. Being sloppy isn’t my style.

The light turns green, and I accelerate, leaving the angry driver behind.

I grip the steering wheel, knuckles white, as I speed through traffic. I have to act. I make a call. The phone rings through the car's Bluetooth, each tone grating on my nerves.

"Adam, what can I do for you?" My lawyer’s calm voice grates on my nerves.

"Destiny's been spotted at the airport with Avery. I think it’s possible they left the country. What the fuck can we do about it?"

A pause. "Are you certain she's leaving the country?"

"There are damned pictures of her with suitcases. What more do you need?"

"Adam, take a breath. We can't jump to conclusions. Suitcases don't necessarily mean-"

"Don't tell me to take a breath," I snarl, cutting him off. "My daughter could be halfway across the world by now."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Have you tried contacting Destiny?"

I grit my teeth and resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Of course I have. She's not answering."

"Alright. Well, unfortunately, we can't take any legal action until we have concrete proof that she's actually left with Avery."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I slam my hand against the steering wheel. "What about some kind of restraining order? Something to keep her in the country?"

"Adam, listen to me. We have no grounds for that. Destiny has every right to travel with her child. Unless we can prove she intends to permanently relocate without your consent, our hands are tied."

I curse under my breath. "So what, I'm just supposed to sit here and do nothing while she potentially kidnaps my daughter?"

"I understand you're frustrated, but we need to approach this rationally. Have you considered that there might be a perfectly innocent explanation?"

"Like what?" I snap.

"A business trip, perhaps? Or a trip to see family? Destiny's clothing line is doing well, isn't it? She could be traveling for business, or have taken time off to visit family she hasn't seen in a while."

I fall silent, my mind racing. He's right, damn it. But the thought of Destiny taking Avery away, even temporarily, makes my blood boil.

"Fine," I growl. "But I want you to start preparing for the worst-case scenario. If she's really trying to leave, I want to be ready."

"Of course. I'll start looking into our options. In the meantime, try to reach out to Destiny again. Calmly, Adam. We don't want to escalate the situation unnecessarily."

I hang up without another word, my foot pressing harder on the accelerator. I don’t know where I’m going but I’m going there fast.

A few miles later, the tires squeal as I hit the breaks and pull over to the side of the road. My heart pounds, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I need to think clearly.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down and consider the situation rationally. Maybe I really am overreacting.

Destiny could have mentioned a trip, and I was too preoccupied to remember. It wouldn't be the first time my work consumed me.

I grab my phone again, scrolling through our recent messages. Nothing about a trip. My finger hovers over her contact, hesitating for a split second before I hit call.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Come on, Destiny," I growl, tapping my fingers impatiently against the dashboard. "Pick up the damn phone."

Voicemail. Again.

I toss the phone onto the passenger seat, frustration bubbling up inside me. This isn't like her. Even when things were at their worst between us, she never ignored my calls completely.

"Think, Adam," I mutter to myself. "Where else could she be going?"

My mind races through possibilities. None of it feels right. The suitcases, the secrecy—it all seems to point to something bigger.

I grab my phone again, this time dialing my assistant.

"Mr. Ryder?" she answers on the first ring.

"I need you to clear my schedule for the next few days," I say, already putting the car in drive.

"Of course, sir. May I ask-"

"No, you may not," I cut her off. "Just get it done."

I hang up, irritated by my frustration. I don’t know what to do and the lack of control irks me beyond words.

The most important thing for me is knowing that Avery and Destiny are safe.

I take a deep breath, my fingers drumming against my knee. The urge to speed off to the airport, to confront Destiny, to demand answers— it's overwhelming.

But I know better. Acting on impulse now could make things worse. They may be long gone by now anyway.

"Such bullshit," I mutter, leaning back in my seat. The leather creaks beneath me as I close my eyes, forcing myself to think rationally.

My phone buzzes. For a split second, hope surges through me. Destiny? But no, it's just my PR rep.

"Talk to me," I answer, my voice clipped.

"Mr. Ryder, we're working on containing the situation. No major outlets have picked up the story yet, but-"

"I don't want to hear about 'buts'. Make it disappear."

"Yes, sir. We're on it."

I end the call, staring at the darkening screen. The silence in the car is deafening. I'm used to action, to solving problems head-on. This waiting game? It's torture.

Still, I know it's the right move. My team is the best in the business. If anyone can handle this, they can.

I start the engine, the familiar purr doing little to calm my nerves. As I pull back onto the road, I force myself to focus on the drive home. One turn at a time. One traffic light after another.

By the time I pull into my driveway, I've managed to regain full control of myself. The house looms before me, suddenly feeling too big, too empty.

Inside, I head straight for my home office. If I'm going to wait, I might as well be productive. I fire up my laptop, determined to lose myself in work until I hear something—anything—about Destiny and Avery.

The clock on my desk ticks away, each second an eternity. But I resist the urge to check my phone every five minutes. I've given my orders. Now, I just have to trust my people to do their jobs.

And hope that wherever Destiny is, whatever she's doing, she hasn't forgotten that Avery is my daughter too.