The Promotion

Chapter Sixty-One

Alexander's POV

Eight hours and forty-five minutes.

That was how long it had been since Louisa walked out of my office and disappeared from my sight. Eight hours and forty-five minutes of silence, unanswered calls, and a growing dread that wrapped itself tighter around my chest with every passing minute.

The clock crept toward nine.

Outside, the city had slipped into darkness, streetlights glowing faintly through the glass, but inside the office everything felt too bright, too still—like the world had paused, waiting for something terrible to happen.

I paced again, my shoes scuffing the carpet as if wearing a groove into the floor might somehow bring her back. Every step echoed with the same thought:

I should have stopped her.

I'd replayed that moment a hundred times—the way her voice cracked, the way her eyes shone with hurt she tried to mask as anger. When she said I hate you, I'd seen the regret hit her instantly, like she wanted to snatch the words back and swallow them whole.

She hadn't meant it.

I knew that.

But knowing didn't change the fact that she'd walked out, and I'd let her go.

Maggie had been calling me every hour, just like I asked. Each call was the same, delivered gently but relentlessly.

"She hasn't come home yet, Alexander."

Every time I heard it, my chest tightened. It felt like being slowly crushed from the inside.

I called Jason again, my hand trembling as I held the phone to my ear.

"Anything?" I asked the second he picked up.

There was a pause. Too long.

"Not yet," Jason said quietly. "Rose and I are checking everywhere. We've split up. We'll find her."

The certainty in his voice was the only thing keeping me upright.

"Please," I murmured, before ending the call.

I sank onto the sofa, elbows on my knees, head bowed. The office smelled faintly of coffee and paper—familiar, usually comforting—but now it felt wrong. Empty.

My phone buzzed again.

Lily.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

Those words alone nearly broke me.

"We need to go to the police," I said, desperation creeping into my voice.

"I know," she replied carefully. "But it hasn't been twenty-four hours yet."

"It's been eight hours and fifty minutes," I snapped, glancing at the clock. "That's eight hours too long."

"I know," Lily repeated. "Just... call me if anything changes."

When the call ended, the silence pressed in harder than before.

I stared at the door.

If I left, what if Louisa came back looking for me?

If I stayed, what if she needed me somewhere else?

There was no right answer. Only fear.

A knock broke through my thoughts.

My heart leapt violently. For one foolish second, I believed—

I rushed to the door.

It wasn't Louisa.

Lucinda stood there instead.