David let out a slow, satisfied breath as he crossed the plush carpet toward the master bedroom. His eyes adjusted to the deep shadows. He expected to see exactly what he had left behind: the soft, familiar, obedient curve of his wife’s body buried deep under the heavy silk duvet.
But as he reached the edge of the massive king-sized mattress, the arrogant smirk violently dropped off his face.
The duvet was thrown back in a messy, careless heap. The crisp white sheets were exposed to the cool air.
The bed was completely, terrifyingly empty.
David froze. A cold, creeping dread began to uncoil in the pit of his stomach, wrapping its icy fingers tightly around his throat.
“Rose?” he whispered. The word sounded harsh and entirely too loud in the absolute, dead silence of the room.
No answer.
He moved quickly, his pulse picking up a frantic, uneven rhythm. He pushed open the frosted glass door of the massive en-suite bathroom. Pitch black. He strode across the room and ripped back the heavy velvet curtains, unlocking the sliding glass doors to check the private terrace.
Empty. Only the cold ocean wind greeted him.
The air was suddenly sucked completely out of the suite. A sickening, visceral panic seized his chest. He rushed back to the bed, dropping to his knees to look under the mattress, checking the walk-in closet, his sophisticated veneer completely shattering.
Where the hell was she?
His hands were visibly shaking as he scrambled across the mattress, grabbing his burner phone from where he had hidden it beneath his pillow. He quickly dialed Rosália’s number, holding his breath as he pressed the speaker to his ear, begging for the line to connect.
Ring.
A sudden, sharp vibration shattered the quiet of the bedroom.
Ring.
David’s head snapped toward the opposite side of the bed. A bright, glaring white square of light illuminated the mahogany nightstand. Rosália’s cell phone was sitting right there, buzzing aggressively against the wood, mocking him.
She had left it behind.
The blood drained entirely from David’s face. She hadn’t just gone down to the lobby for a late-night tea while scrolling through her emails. She had left her phone. It was deliberate. It was a panicked, sudden departure.
His breathing turned ragged. He immediately ended the call and dialed Katherine’s number, his thumb pressing the screen so hard it almost cracked.
She picked up on the second ring, her voice thick, languid, and dripping with lazy satisfaction. “Miss me already, David?”
“Is Sean in your suite?” David demanded. His voice was a harsh, terrified rasp that completely shattered her post-coital bliss.
“What?” Katherine mumbled, entirely confused. “David, you’re being paranoid. I told you, he’s a heavy sleeper—”
“Check right fucking now, Katherine!” David hissed, the panic clawing violently up his throat, choking him. “Check the bed!”
He heard a sharp intake of breath over the line, followed by the rustle of heavy hotel sheets and the frantic padding of bare feet against hardwood.
A long, agonizing silence stretched between them. It pulled David’s nerves entirely taut, stretching them until he thought he might physically snap in half. He squeezed his eyes shut, a cold sweat breaking across his forehead.Please let the old man be asleep,he prayed desperately to a God he didn’t believe in.Please.
When Katherine finally spoke again, her voice trembled so violently it was barely recognizable. The arrogant confidence had been entirely stripped away.
“David...” she whispered, a raw, terrifying tremor in her tone. “He’s not here. The bed is completely cold. He’s been gone for a while.”
The world violently tilted on its axis. The floor seemed to drop out from beneath David’s feet.
“Rosália is gone too,” David ground out, his lungs burning as he dragged in oxygen.
“What? What do you mean she’s gone?” Katherine’s voice pitched up into a shrill, hysterical squeak. “David, where are they? Are they together? Did he find out—oh my god, David, what if he knows?”
