Zac's POV
The panic was clawing at my chest, threatening to choke me as each hour passed without any sign of Fatima. It wasn't like her to disappear, not without a word, not without someone knowing where she was. The entire production had come to a halt, with the cast and crew combing through the set and nearby areas. But every corner we turned, every trailer we searched, came up empty.
I couldn't shake the feeling deep in my gut. Something was wrong. This wasn't just her being late or needing a break—this was something bigger, something dangerous. And the thought of her out there, scared, or hurt, made me feel like I was losing my mind.
"Zac," Nico called out, jogging up to me. His face was grim, matching the tension that hung in the air. "Still no word. The PA said the last time anyone saw her was at her trailer earlier today."
I ran a hand over my face, trying to think, trying to piece it all together. "That doesn't make sense, man. Fatima wouldn't just disappear like this. Someone must've seen something."
Nico nodded, his jaw tight. "I know. We've been checking the security cameras on set, but so far, nothing. It's like she just... vanished."
Vanished. The word sent a cold chill down my spine. No, I couldn't accept that. Not Fatima. She was strong, smart, always aware of her surroundings. She wouldn't just vanish.
I turned toward one of the PAs. "Go check the security cameras again. Look for anyone suspicious. I don't care how small it seems—if someone even looked at her wrong, I want to know about it."
The PA nodded and rushed off. I turned back to Nico, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. "Man, I can't just stand here. We need to do something. We need to find her."
Nico put a hand on my shoulder, grounding me for just a second. "We will, Zac. But you need to keep your head straight. Fatima's tough—she's not going down without a fight."
I nodded, clinging to those words, but the truth was, I was barely holding it together. The thought of Fatima being hurt, scared, or worse, was too much to bear. I clenched my fists, my anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
"Whoever did this," I said through gritted teeth, "is going to regret it. I don't care who it is. When I find them, they're done."
Nico nodded, his own expression hardening. "Let's keep looking. Someone on this set has to know something."
I followed him, my mind racing.
I stepped into the conference room, my stomach already churning. I thought I'd be walking into some footage from the cameras or news about Fatima. Instead, Taj was standing there, leaning against the table with a look I couldn't quite read—some mix of smugness and nervous energy.
"What the hell is this, Taj?" I barked, my patience hanging by a thread. "I thought I was here for answers, not to talk to you."
He crossed his arms, tilting his head as if he was sizing me up. "I wanted to talk to you, Zac. Man to man."
I took a step closer, my fists clenching instinctively. "If you've got something to say, you'd better make it quick. My woman is missing, and I don't have time for your bullshit."
He smirked, and it took everything in me not to swing on him right then and there. "Your woman, huh?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You sure about that? Because last time I checked, Fatima was her own person. She didn't belong to anyone. Least of all you."
"What the fuck are you even talking about, Taj?" I snapped, my voice rising. "This isn't the time for your jealousy or whatever the hell this is. If you know something about Fatima, you'd better start talking. Now."
He stood up straighter, his smirk fading as his expression turned cold. "You think you're so perfect, don't you, Zac? Like you're the only one who could ever love her, the only one who could ever protect her. But you're not. You don't deserve her."
