Chapter 15 Miss Emily Disappeared
Panic pricked at him as he stumbled further onto the street. The night air bit at his skin, sharp and cold. Streetlights buzzed faintly overhead, casting pools of yellow light onto the empty pavement. His gaze darted everywhere—left, right, down the block. Nothing.
Then, suddenly— crack . His shoe crushed something brittle underfoot. He froze, stomach lurching, before glancing down.
Shards glittered faintly beneath the lamplight. He bent forward, heart pounding, and lifted the object. A phone. Blue cover, silver stars. His breath caught.
It was Emily’s phone. The screen was spiderwebbed, glass splintering into tiny pieces.
Cold dread washed through him, leaving his hands trembling. He fumbled with his own phone, almost dropping it, before finally punching in Sebastian’s number with unsteady fingers.
At home, Sebastian had set the table with dinner, the warm dishes untouched as his eyes kept flicking toward the door, waiting for Emily to appear.
But the silence in the house stretched heavy, and there was still no sign of her.
With a sigh, he poured himself a glass of water, lifting it halfway to his lips—when a sudden, frantic pounding rattled the front door.
He froze. The glass clinked against the table as he set it down and strode to the door. The moment he yanked it open, Harold stood there, breathless, his face drained of color, panic carved into every line of it.
“Sebastian—” Harold’s voice cracked, frantic. “Where is your phone? I’ve been calling you! Did Miss Emily come home? I couldn’t find her at the theater. Miss Emily’s disappeared!”
For the briefest second, Sebastian’s body went rigid, his eyes hollowing with shock. Then, like a switch, he straightened sharply, every muscle alive with urgency. He spun on his heel, rushing back inside, his footsteps thunderous on the staircase as he took the steps two at a time.
He stormed into his study, snatched his phone from the desk, and punched Leon’s number with shaking but precise fingers.
“Leon,” he barked, voice like steel. “Track the location of Emily’s phone. Right now!”
Harold, who had trailed him upstairs, fumbled into his coat pocket and pulled out Emily’s broken phone. His voice shook as he thrust it forward. “No… no need to track. The phone—it was on the ground. I picked it up.”
Sebastian snatched it from his hand. The fractured screen flickered faintly, jagged lines of light splitting through the glass.
For a split second, his heart seemed to stop.
His thumb brushed over the cracks as if the cold shards could somehow tell him what had happened.
He swallowed hard, jaw tight, before lifting the phone back to his ear.
“Leon,” his voice dropped into a dangerous calm. “She went to the movie theatre today. Pull the surveillance. Every angle, every camera. I want to know what happened and who was there. Get on it—now.”
***
Emily’s eyes fluttered open to the blurred shapes of a ceiling and the sour tang of stale air. Voices—rough, distant—drifted in, indistinct at first until her mind cleared enough to catch the words that made her blood run cold.
“Where did you pick this one up?” a voice sneered. “She’s so thin—think her organs are worth anything?”
“She’s from a fat-money family. Top-notch condition,” the other man answered.
A cold, electric fear ripped through Emily.
She was tied to a chair. It looked like an empty warehouse.
Her head slowly lifted toward the sound of voices.
Two men loomed over her: one short and fat, the other taller, with sun-dark skin and shoes the exact deep blue she recognized like a jolt to the memory.
The man in the blue shoes was the same one who had attacked her with a hammer and tried to run her over.
“Hurry up! Bring the tools. Let’s cut her up and toss her off a bridge before anyone finds her,” the thin man ordered.
The tall man in the blue shoes began to step away. The fat man moved closer, a knife flashing in his hand.
“I don’t have much time,” he sneered. “Otherwise, I’d have had my fun with you first before slicing you up.”
Emily trembled in panic, her body shaking violently. She fought against the ropes biting into her wrists, panic lending strength to her movements.
For a heartbeat, the tall man returned unexpectedly, reaching out and undoing the bindings at her back. She lunged and struggled, trying to push him away, but the fat man and his companion overpowered her.
The scuffle turned brutal immediately. Hands grabbed at her arms; a blade nicked her skin as she twisted free, pain flaring sharp and hot across her palms. Blood welled on the surface, sticky and startling. Her heart thundered; breath came in ragged pulls.
Just as one of the men lifted the knife to strike her, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the empty space.
The two men froze, startled by the sudden intrusion, their eyes darting at each other as if to plan an escape. But before they could even think to flee, shadows swarmed in. Sebastian charged forward, fury carved across his face, his men following.
Within seconds, the captors were on the ground, restrained and dragged away.
Emily sat upright on the cold ground, her entire body trembling violently, sobs breaking out of her lips. Her vision blurred with tears, every breath sharp and painful.
Sebastian’s gaze swept over her in an instant—his eyes catching on the angry red marks across her skin, the scratches on her wrists, the terror etched into her face.
His chest constricted. In the next heartbeat, he was beside her, scooping her into his arms as if he couldn’t bear the distance of a single inch.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice rough yet threaded with fierce tenderness. “I’m here.”
Emily clung to him, her fists gripping the fabric of his shirt. He rose swiftly, holding her close against him, her trembling frame pressed to his chest.
His strides were long, fast, carrying her toward the waiting car. His jaw was tight, his expression carved in stone, but when his gaze flicked to Leon standing beside the vehicle, his eyes burned with lethal fury.
“Lock them up. I want answers,” he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
“Yes, Mr. Graves,” Leon replied grimly, immediately stepping aside to open the car door.
Sebastian slid inside carefully, Emily still in his arms. She curled into him instinctively, her face buried against his chest, her small hands clutching at him. Her tears had stopped, but her trembling hadn’t. His arms tightened protectively around her.
The car shot forward, tearing down the darkened streets toward a hospital. Sebastian lowered his head, his lips brushing her hair.
An hour later, once the doctors had checked her and confirmed she was unharmed beyond the cuts and bruises, they returned home.
Sebastian carried her upstairs to the bedroom.
Gently, he laid her down on the bed. But even there, safe and warm, she was still trembling, her fear raw and fresh.
Only a few months ago, she had already brushed against death’s hand.
And now, it had come for her again. The fear of it pressed heavily on her soul, leaving her fragile, aching, and unbearably weary.
Sebastian sat at her side, his hand stroking her hair back, his gaze fixed on her pale, shaken face. “Take a hot bath, baby,” he murmured. “Then I’ll put you to sleep.”
Emily’s lips quivered as she nodded, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Sebastian brushed them away with his thumb, his touch achingly tender, before lifting her in his arms and carrying her to the bathroom.
He helped her with the bath, his hands steady even though rage still burned inside him.
When she was warm and clean, he wrapped her in a towel and carried her back.
He laid her down, tucked her in, then slipped in beside her, his bare chest warm against her as he held her close, dressed only in his trousers.
His arms wrapped around her, his body a quiet shield against the world.
“Sleep,” he whispered into her hair, his breath warm. “I’m here.”
But Emily trembled, her body shaking as though the memory itself clawed at her. She buried her face into his chest, her voice breaking.
“That man,” she whispered shakily. “The one with the blue shoes. He… he was the same man who tried to kill me months ago. He hit me with a hammer first, then tried to run me over with a car.”
Sebastian’s arms tightened around her. His body stiffened, eyes flashing with fury, but he kept his touch gentle. He stroked the back of her head, forcing his voice low and soothing. “I’ll take care of it, baby. Rest. I’ll stay right here.”
But Emily shook her head, her tears wetting his shirt.
“I don’t want to sleep,” she whispered brokenly. “I don’t want to close my eyes.”
Sebastian cupped her face, his thumb brushing her damp cheek. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.
Her tears softened, her gaze searching his face.
With trembling need, Emily cupped his jaw and pressed her lips to his.
The kiss was hesitant at first, almost fragile, but when Sebastian felt her mouth move against his, all restraint shattered.
He pulled her into his arms, devouring her lips with a raw hunger that spoke of desperation and longing.
He shifted her quickly, guiding her upper body across his lap, pulling her thighs close until she was draped completely against him.
Her body responded to him, every nerve sparking under his touch. His hands roamed her legs, stroking from ankle to thigh in slow, possessive sweeps.
“You smell so sweet,” he muttered against her skin, burying his face in her thighs as if he couldn’t get enough.
His mouth on hers turned demanding, his tongue stroking past her lips in a consuming rhythm. His palm cradled her face, holding her still so he could kiss her the way he wanted.
His breath ghosted over the inside of her thigh, making her tremble. Instinctively, Emily’s hands buried in his hair, clinging to him.
Sebastian’s hand slid up, cupping her breast through her robe. The moment his fingertips brushed over her tightened peak, she arched against him with a moan that vibrated in his mouth.
He groaned softly in pleasure, then tugged at the knot of her robe, loosening it until one side slipped open, revealing her soft skin. His fingers tangled in her hair as his other arm pulled her flush into his lap, keeping her completely under his control.
Their eyes met, his dark gaze heavy with desire and unspoken love. Then his mouth was back on hers, unrestrained and fervent. His hand gripped her nape, holding her in place as if he couldn’t bear to let her move an inch.
After a breathless kiss, he lowered his head, his lips tracing down the curve of her neck, over her collarbone, and lower still. His kisses turned into open-mouthed caresses along her thighs.
Sebastian laid her back against the bed, climbing over her with a strength that made her feel both fragile and cherished beneath him. His large hand cupped her breast, squeezing gently before sliding to the other, kneading and caressing as though he had been starved for her touch.
His palms glided over her waist, her hips, down her thighs, and finally pressed between them, squeezing the tender flesh that hid her most sensitive spot.
Emily’s body jolted at the sensation, sharp sparks of pleasure shooting through her core.
“Mmmh…” she whimpered, squirming against him, her legs trying to close against the unbearable teasing.
Sebastian caught Emily’s legs with his own, keeping them parted as he continued to torment her with feather-light touches.
Her hands slid down to push at him, but he caught both of her wrists and pinned them above her head against the bed’s headrest with one strong hand.
“Stop squirming, baby,” he murmured, his nails skimming down her skin—so close to her aching heat yet never touching.
A broken sound left her lips, muffled against his kiss. He had her trapped beneath him, refusing to let her free.