CHAPTER FORTY SIX
“Evidence.”
The lift couldn't move fast enough.
By the time Malik reached the lobby, Marcus was already standing outside with two police officers.
Blue lights flashed across the apartment building.
Residents gathered behind the security barriers, whispering amongst themselves.
A crime scene photographer crouched beside a black leather handbag lying on the pavement.
Lena's handbag.
There were dark red stains across one side.
Malik stopped walking.
His chest tightened.
Marcus immediately stepped in front of him.
"Don't go any closer."
"What happened?"
"We don't know."
"Who found it?"
"A dog walker."
Malik looked around.
"There are cameras everywhere."
Marcus nodded.
"There are."
"But whoever did this knew exactly where the blind spots were."
Detective Alvarez arrived moments later.
She looked exhausted.
"Mr. Carter."
"Detective."
She held up a gloved hand.
"I need to ask you something."
"I'm listening."
"Were you expecting Lena to come here tonight?"
"No."
"Did she know where you lived?"
"Yes."
"Has she ever been here?"
"No."
The detective studied his face carefully.
"You understand why I'm asking."
"I do."
She nodded.
"Good."
Because this investigation had just changed.
Upstairs, Zara watched everything unfold from the apartment window.
She couldn't hear the conversations.
Only see them.
Police.
Ambulances.
Crime scene tape.
Reporters arriving one after another.
She wrapped her cardigan tighter around herself.
Something about seeing Lena's handbag outside their home made everything feel different.
Whoever was behind this...
Had stopped watching from a distance.
They had come to them.
An hour later, Marcus finally returned upstairs.
His expression was unreadable.
Zara met him at the door.
"Is she..."
She couldn't finish the sentence.
Marcus shook his head.
"We still don't know where Lena is."
Relief washed over her.
Briefly.
"But..."
He looked towards Malik.
"The blood has been sent for testing."
The apartment fell silent.
The following morning was chaos.
Every news channel carried the same story.
MISSING WOMAN INVESTIGATION ESCALATES
HANDBAG FOUND OUTSIDE BUSINESSMAN'S HOME
The reporters never said Malik's name outright.
They didn't have to.
The photographs did it for them.
Outside Bellamy & Co., two photographers waited across the street.
Camille immediately called everyone into the conference room.
"No one speaks to the press."
"No comments."
"No social media."
She looked directly at Zara.
"You hear me?"
Zara nodded.
"I do."
Camille softened.
"This isn't your fault."
"I know."
"But it feels like my whole life is becoming someone else's headline."
By lunchtime, Detective Alvarez called Malik back to the station.
Marcus insisted on coming.
The detective closed the interview room door behind them.
"We've received the preliminary forensic report."
Malik sat forward.
"And?"
"The blood..."
She looked down at the file.
"...belongs to Lena."
The room became completely still.
Marcus lowered his head.
Malik couldn't speak.
The detective continued.
"It isn't enough blood to conclude she's dead."
"But it's enough to confirm she was injured."
Malik closed his eyes.
Devon had crossed a line.
As Malik left the police station, his phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
He answered immediately.
"Hello?"
Static.
Then...
A woman's voice.
Weak.
Barely audible.
"...Malik..."
His entire body froze.
"Lena?"
Heavy breathing filled the line.
"I..."
The sound cut out.
Then came another voice.
Cold.
Calm.
Dangerously familiar.
"You've always had a hero complex."
Malik's grip tightened around the phone.
"Devon."
A soft chuckle.
"You finally recognised me."
"What do you want?"
"What I've always wanted."
"And what's that?"
A pause.
Then—
"I want you to lose everything."
The line went dead.
That evening, Zara sat alone in the apartment.
Malik still hadn't returned from the police station.
She switched off the television.
Silence filled the room.
Her phone vibrated.
An email.
No subject line.
No sender name.
Just one attachment.
Her heart raced.
Slowly...
She opened it.
A video.
Grainy security footage.
A timestamp from two nights earlier.
She pressed play.
The footage showed the entrance to a hotel in Midtown Manhattan.
People walked in and out.
Taxis stopped.
Doormen greeted guests.
Nothing unusual.
Until...
A familiar black Range Rover pulled into the driveway.
Zara leaned closer to the screen.
Malik stepped out.
Her breathing slowed.
"It's probably old..."
she whispered to herself.
Then...
The passenger door opened.
A woman climbed out.
The camera quality was poor.
Her face wasn't clear.
But the cream coat...
The dark hair...
The height...
Everything about her looked like Lena.
Zara stared at the screen in disbelief.
The footage continued.
Malik placed a hand gently against the woman's back.
Together...
They walked into the hotel.
The video ended.
No date.
No explanation.
No context.
Just silence.
A second email arrived immediately afterwards.
This one contained only a single sentence.
Ask him why he never told you about the hotel.
Zara looked up as she heard keys turning in the front door.
Malik was home.
She slowly closed her laptop.
Her hands were trembling.
The apartment door opened.
"Hey..."
Malik called softly.
"I'm home."
Zara stood up.
Neither of them spoke.
She simply turned the laptop around.
Pressed play again.
And watched Malik's face as the video began.
End of Chapter Forty-Six