Chapter Eighty-Four
Marcus
I ’m woken by fur and a cold, wet nose pressing against my face. Slowly coming out of my sleepy haze, I realize I’d passed out on the couch with Ethel sprawled across my chest. She’s head-butting me persistently, her subtle way of demanding food.
“If you want breakfast, you need to get off me,” I grumble.
With a dramatic leap, she catapults off my chest and trots toward the kitchen. I roll to my side and grab my phone, noticing Gigi never responded to my text last night. That’s unusual. Normally, one text from me means twelve from her. I hit the call button, but it rings without an answer. My chest tightens a bit.
It’s just after eight, so Melonie is probably up with Millie by now. I dial her number.
“Hey, Marcus,” she greets, and I hear a tiny squeal in the background.
“Morning, Melonie. Sounds like Millie’s already up.”
“I just gave her some blueberries. Are you all set for today? Linc’s in the shower.”
“I guess so. Just wanted to check what time you’re meeting G at the hotel.”
“Audrey and I should be there around nine-thirty or ten. Why?”
“Gigi didn’t answer my texts last night. And when I called her just now, no answer, either.”
“That’s odd. Want us to check on her?”
“Could you? I’d go myself, but if it turns out to be nothing and she sees me, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Melonie laughs. “Yeah, don’t want you in the doghouse on your wedding day. I’ll call Audrey, and we’ll head over soon.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ll call you back soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
We hang up, and I fill Ethel’s dish before starting the coffee maker. I pour myself a cup and head to my room to get ready. As the shower water runs over me, I try to push away the unease gnawing at me, but no matter how hot the water is, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. I shut off the water, wrapping a towel around me when my phone rings.
“Hey, Audrey.”
“Marcus, what room is Gigi in?”
“Twelve-twenty-one. Why?”
“She’s not answering the door.”
A cold knot of panic forms in my stomach. “I’m going to call the front desk and have them give you a key. I’m coming over now.”
“Maybe she’s just sleeping.”
“Maybe, but this doesn’t feel right. I need to see her with my own eyes.”
“Okay, we’ll head down to the lobby. Text me once you’ve spoken to someone.”
“I will. See you soon.”
At this point, I don’t care what I’m wearing and superstitions can fuck off. I yank on some jeans and a hoodie and leave the house.
I step off the elevator on the twelfth floor, my heart pounding in my chest, and rush to Gigi’s room. Melonie answers the door before I can knock.
“Is she here?” My voice cracks with panic.
A pained look crosses Melonie’s face. “No, Marcus. She’s not.”
Audrey steps toward me, trying to stay calm. “Take a breath. We’ll figure this out.”
I push past them both, heading straight into the room, searching for anything that might explain where Gigi is. “Where is she?”
The women follow me, their presence barely registering as I frantically scan the room. If it weren’t for her luggage and all her makeup, it looks untouched. “Marcus,” Melonie says softly, “maybe we should call the police.”
I pull out my phone, hands trembling. “They won’t do anything. She hasn’t been gone long enough for them to care.” I find Rory’s contact and dial.
“Marcus?” he answers.
“Gigi’s missing. She didn’t answer a text last night, and now she’s not at the hotel. Bed hasn’t even been slept in.”
“And you’re thinking—”
“How could I not?” I snap, pacing toward the windows.
“Did she mention meeting anyone?” Rory asks, his voice low and cautious.
“No. She was supposed to be getting ready for the wedding, here at the hotel.”
“I’m calling in some favors. Don’t do anything reckless, Marcus.”
The line goes dead, and I drop my hand, phone hanging limp by my side. Audrey’s voice cuts through the silence. “Who was that?”
“Rory. He’s an old college friend who’s a detective out in Rochester. He’s going to make some calls.”
Melonie’s face pales. “What aren’t you telling us, Marcus?” Her eyes are red-rimmed, fear creeping into her voice.
I run a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the truth. “The woman who claims to be Gigi’s mother? She’s not.”
Audrey’s head snaps toward me, confusion clouding her face. “What the hell do you mean?”
“I had Rory look into her,” I explain, my voice strained. “The phone number, the picture you took of her with Gigi… Her name’s Grace Murphy.”
Melonie’s brow furrows. “Why would someone pretend to be Gigi’s mother?”
“That’s what we were trying to figure out,” I say, frustration mounting. “Rory gave me all the info last night, but I didn’t get the chance to tell Gigi.”
“You think this Grace woman has something to do with her not being here?” Audrey asks, her tone sharp.
“I can’t help but think it’s connected,” I reply, my voice tight with anger. “Grace has a record; she’s far from a saint.”
I slump onto the couch, the silence between us heavy and suffocating. My mind is racing with a thousand worst-case scenarios, each one more terrifying than the last. I can feel anger bubbling just beneath the surface, but I force myself to take deep, measured breaths, trying to keep the fear at bay.
Audrey sits beside me. “You know Gigi is smart and tough as hell, right?” she says, her voice steady but gentle.
I nod, swallowing hard. “I love that about her.”
Melonie offers a small, reassuring smile from across the room. “We know you do.”
Just as she finishes speaking, my phone buzzes in my hand. I glance at the screen, my blood running cold. An unknown number.
Unknown: Mr. Holt, we have your wife. Don’t reach out to anyone. In 30 minutes, you’ll receive an address. Meet us there by 12 PM. Before that, transfer $5 million to the account we’ll send. If you don’t, you’ll never see her again. This is your only warning.
I stand abruptly, rage flooding through me. My wife is being held by some psychopath, and I have no idea if she’s safe. She could be scared, hurt—and I’m not there to protect her. My breath comes in ragged bursts as I hand Audrey the phone.
“Holy fuck,” she whispers as she reads it.
Melonie’s eyes dart between us. “What? Is it from Gigi?”
Audrey hands her the phone, and Melonie’s face goes pale as she reads. “Oh my God. Marcus, five million dollars?”
I barely hear her as I screenshot the message and send it to Rory. “I don’t care about the money. I just want her back. And I want this woman to pay for doing this to her.”