While Zane had Damien continue the search after the housekeeper confirmed Selina still hadn't returned, he found himself back at the mansion.
He told himself she might come back on her own—after hours of searching through every place in the city he could think of.
Beneath the chandelier's pale glow on the front porch, Zane stood motionless while the rest of the mansion lay cloaked in darkness. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, a posture that barely concealed the tension coiling inside him.
His eyes remained fixed on the long driveway leading to the main gate, waiting for headlights that never appeared.
Minutes dragged by as he checked the time on his wristwatch.
Past eleven.
Still nothing.
A heavy, unfamiliar pressure settled against his ribs. She should have been back by now.
Has something happened? Was she stranded somewhere? Hurt?
The questions crowded in relentlessly, each one tightening around his chest.
Zane clicked his tongue in irritation—mostly at himself. Why was she still out? Why wasn't she answering her phone?
Why did the night feel like it was stretching endlessly to spite him?
Then another thought intruded, sharp and unsettling. What if she fled? What if she had left the city?
Where could she even go?
He shut his eyes briefly, as if that might silence the noise in his head. It didn't.
The worry lingered—too persistent, too real, and far beyond his control.
He couldn't be at ease, not after she had left in that shattered state.
Where are you, Selina? He muttered inwardly, frustration tightening his jaw.
Eloise, passing by to check if her madam had returned so she could close the front door, stopped short when she noticed him still standing there. She had assumed he'd already left, as he often did, as though something dreadful chased him away from the house.
Still, the sight before her was unfamiliar. In all her years of service, she had never seen her young master this restless.
"Master Zane," Eloise said gently, "you'll catch a cold if you stay out here. Should I bring you something warm?"
Without looking at her, Zane replied, "I'm not that fragile. Have you been able to reach Selina?"
Eloise glanced down at her phone, her fingers tightening around it. "I'm still unable to reach her. Her phone's been off for hours, and she hasn't replied to my messages either. I hope she's fine… wherever she is."
Zane's jaw tightened.
"Does Selina have any friends?" he asked after a pause. "Someone she might go to?"
The question weighed heavily—an admission of how little he knew about her life.
Eloise hesitated before answering quietly, "She has no friends. No one in the city to run to."
Something shifted behind Zane's eyes.
"You should get some rest," he said, his tone dismissive. "I'll handle everything."
Eloise nodded and turned away without another word.
Zane pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he found Damien's number.
He dialed, and it went through twice.
"Damien," he said the moment the call connected. "Any updates?"
Damien's voice came through steady but strained. "I'm hitting a wall. Her signal keeps flickering. The last GPS ping places her at a mini bar in the west district. I think she's there."
"A bar?" Zane muttered as the call ended. "Is she drinking alone… at this hour?"
The thought sent a hot rush of panic through him. What if there were dangerous people there?
Without hesitation, Zane strode down the tiled steps, fumbling for his car keys in his pocket as he approached his sedan nearby.
As he slipped inside, his car tore down the mansion's driveway at full speed, disappearing into the night.
Zane drove straight to the bar where Damien tracked her, but he found the place closed. He couldn't find any other place open, nor anyone around to ask about her.
He surged from one district to the next, a frantic, rhythmic hunt that yielded nothing. Each futile turn pierced him deeper, his chest tightening with a physical, suffocating feeling.
He hoped she wasn't in danger because of him. He knew he wouldn't be able to live with such a thing, nor could he bear the thought of returning to the mansion alone.
As he sped toward the city's edge, the traffic light ahead bled red. Zane slammed on the brakes, the car lurching to a halt at the pedestrian crossing.
His fingers drummed a frantic, uneven beat against the steering wheel while his other hand white-knuckled the leather. He looked between the lights and checked his phone for an update from Damien that never came.
Time ticked like an unreachable thread around him. Then a blur of motion caught the corner of his eye. caught sight of a car stopping beside him. A car pulled up beside him in a smooth, sudden glide.
Zane snapped his head toward it, and through the open tinted window, he saw her.
Selina.
His breath hitched, snagging in his throat.
She wasn't alone. She was slumped in the rear seat, her head resting on a stranger's shoulder, her eyes closed in a fragile sleep.
The young man turned, and their gazes collided—a brief, electric shock of unspoken words.
Zane was paralyzed for a heartbeat, stunned by the man's identity.
He fumbled for the door release, the lock clicking open with a sharp thud. But before he could step out, the other car roared to life and zoomed into the intersection.
"Damn!" Zane hissed, his eyes flying to the signal. Green.
With a surge of adrenaline, he slammed the car into gear. The engine roared as he gave chase, weaving through the sparse traffic until he saw the sleek SUV ahead.
With a reckless jerk of the wheel, Zane pulled a sharp maneuver, screeching his car horizontally across the road.
The sedan behind him slammed on its brakes, stopping inches from his door.
The violent jolt startled Selina. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glazed, fixed on the familiar figure stepping out of the car blocking their path.
Why is he here? she thought, the world tilting on its axis.
Zane strode to her side of the car, his movements predatory and swift. He rapped his knuckles against the glass.