Cleo Miranda Adams is a part-time clerk at a small antique shop and an aspiring guitarist. Music has been part of her life since birth. After a tough loss, she focuses on building a name for herself and doing what she loves.
Billionaire and perfecti...
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Something is wrong. It's been twenty, and she isn't back yet. Why isn't she back yet?
My feet have a mind of their own when they walk to the bathroom. "Cleo?" I knock on the door, but no answer.
"Cleo?" I knock again. This time the sound matched my heartbeat. Where is she?
I push the door open slightly. "Cleo?" No one answers. This doesn't feel right.
I push open every stall to see empty toilets when my eyes catch something gold laying on the floor. I walked to pick it up, and I instantly recognize it. It's Cleo's cutch. But where is she? "Cleo?!" I call again, and again I'm met with the deafening silence.
I storm out of the bathroom and head straight for security. "What's going on?" I meet a concerned Mateo with a dishevelled Gia on his arm. I'm too worried about Cleo to comment on their state.
"Cleo is missing. She went to the bathroom, but she didn't come back," I say without stopping. I hear Gia gasp.
I finally get to the security desk. "Mr. Moretti?" the guard looked at me with fear in his eyes. Good.
I slam the clutch against the desk. "Would you like to tell me why my woman vanished into thin air from your bathroom and all I found was her bag?" My throat burns.
"I'm sorry?"
"Are you deaf? My girl is missing! The last place she went was the bathroom! Is your security so poor that you don't see a woman vanish? What kind of organization are you running?" My volume increases causing all eyes to fall on me. Luca and his wife rush out to see the commotion.
His face tightens when he sees my state. He walks over with cautious eyes. "What is going on?"
"Cleo is missing," the words burn me. Luca stops breathing. "What?" I just nod. Gia and Kendra hug each other while I try to figure out what the hell is going on. Mateo and Luca stand on either side of me, looking at the head of security who finally shows up and takes over the situation.
The guard finally bucks up and checks the footage from the time she left. We round the desk and my eyes immediately burn into the screen for anything out of the ordinary.
Then I see it...
Brandon Taylor. He walks into the bathroom. He's wearing an all-black ensemble with his hand glued to his pocket. Ten minutes later, he walks out with my girl hanging, unconsciously, over his shoulder like a sack of rice. They head down the hallway but vanish after going through a fire escape.
I can't breathe. Why can't I breathe? My heart races in my chest as I try to wrap my mind around it. I should have gone with her. He threatened her and I let my guard down. I should have followed her. I should have told her about the threat. It's my fault.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby," I say over and over, praying she magically appears. Safe and sound, in my arms. I'd rather be pinching my cheeks now than be in the hands of this bastard.
I hear voices around me but they sound far away. My head spins. This can't be happening.
All I feel are strong hands shaking me before I hit the floor.
