Chapter 12
In the hospital VIP room, the scent of antiseptic was masked by lilies arranged nearby.
Dominic sat beside the bed, holding a steaming bowl of chicken soup, the spoon making delicate tapping sounds against the rim.
“Stella, just one more sip.” He brought the spoon to her lips, his voice dripping tenderness. “I simmered it for four hours, skimmed off all the fat.”
Stella’s pale face flushed as she sipped from his hand, her eyelashes casting shadows in the light: “Dominic, staying
here with me… won’t Emma…”
“She won’t mind,” Dominic interrupted, his tone suggesting he was convincing himself. “Emma understands.”
But as he set down the bowl, the porcelain spoon clinked against the glass table, creating a jarring sound that seemed to pierce his temple.
Three days–three days without word from Emma.
He pulled out his phone, the lock screen displaying Emma’s peaceful sleeping face.
[5:03 PM: Baby, I’ll be back later]
[10:47 PM: Still angry?]
[Next day 9:15 AM: Emma, answer your phone.]
The last message remained from this morning, a lonely green bubble at the top of their conversation.
“I need to make a call,” he abruptly stood, knocking over a stool with his pant leg.
In the fire escape stairwell at the corridor’s end, Dominic pressed the dial button for the third time.
A mechanical female voice repeated [Currently unavailable] in dual languages, creating an eerie echo in the empty
stairwell.
He called his assistant next:
“Jackson, go to the mansion right now,” he paused, not admitting he wanted to confirm Emma’s whereabouts, instead claiming he needed to check the security system.
About half an hour later, his assistant replied:
“Mr. Chase, all security systems are functioning normally, except…”
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Just a Stand In?! My Billionaire Hubby’s OTHER Wife.
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Chapter 12
“Except what?”
“The kitchen waste disposal hasn’t been activated for three days. The smart home log shows it was last used the day you left.”
Dominic’s breathing hitched momentarily.
Emma was fastidious–she’d never leave kitchen waste overnight.
With that thought, he rushed back to the mansion.
The fingerprint lock emitted its familiar beep, and the entryway sensor lights illuminated.
But darkness stretched before him–no lights had been left on, and since opening the door, the mansion had remained completely silent.
“Emma?” His voice echoed in the high–ceilinged living room.
But no response.
The faint scent of roses that usually permeated the air had completely dissipated, replaced by a cold emptiness.
Dominic stood at their master bedroom doorway, his heart inexplicably racing, panic rising.
When he slowly pushed open the door, the sight before him made his eyes widen involuntarily.
The closet stood open, her clothes completely gone. The dressing table was bare–her perfumes and jewelry boxes
lad vanished.
The photographs that once adorned her nightstand had disappeared, leaving only an empty frame.
His heart plummeted as he rushed to the study, yanking open drawers–passport, bank cards… everything proving
er existence was gone.
Only two items remained on the coffee table–a necklace and a stack of yellowed love letters.
Dominic lifted the necklace with trembling hands–he’d given it to Emma on her eighteenth birthday, and in all hese years, she had never taken it off.
But now Emma was nowhere to be found, and this necklace lay abandoned.
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