Emma
Standing in the dimly lit living room, the weight of the evening settles around me like a heavy shroud as I gaze out at the twinkling lights of New York City.
Today was supposed to be the day I finally opened up to Asher about my past and my father, but now my mind is clouded with uncertainty, a thick fog obscuring my thoughts.
He was supposed to be home hours ago, but there's been no sign of him. He called earlier, explaining he had a last-minute business appointment that couldn't be rescheduled and that he would be a little late.
It all sounded plausible at first.
But it's been almost three hours since then, and my attempts to reach him have gone unanswered.
I try to push away the creeping sense of worry, but there's an undercurrent of unease tugging at my heart that won't go away.
Where could he be? Is he okay?
The rational part of me knows how busy he's been lately. So, I want to believe that he's okay and just wrapping up the details of the merger with that Japanese company he mentioned earlier.
The thing is, I can't silence the nagging voice in the back of my mind, whispering worst-case scenarios.
My phone sits in my trembling hand, its screen a constant source of disappointment as I refresh it for any sign of communication from him. But there's nothing—just an oppressive silence that seems to amplify my growing dread.
Where the hell are you, Asher?
As the hours drag on and there's no word from him, a growing sense of panic begins to take hold.
I reach for my phone and dial Asher's number once again. It rings and rings, but there's no answer. My heart sinks with each unanswered ring, a knot of panic tightening in my chest.
By eleven-thirty pm, I can no longer contain my anxiety. With trembling fingers, I dial Max's number, my heart pounding in my chest as I wait for him to pick up.
"Emma?" Max's voice is filled with surprise as he answers the phone—a fleeting moment of comfort amidst the chaos swirling around me.
"Max, have you heard from Asher?" I blurt out; my words rushed and breathless as I explain to him what is going on.
There's a brief pause on the other end of the line before Max responds, his voice grave. "I haven't talked to him since lunch...." he says, his tone tinged with worry. "But I'll look into it, see if I can find out anything."
"Thank you," I whisper before hanging up.
As the night drags on, each passing minute feels like an eternity. When I hear the ding of the elevator, hope flares within me like a flickering candle in the darkness, only to be dashed when I see it's Max and his security team.
"Max?" I call out, my voice wavering with fear as he steps inside. "What's happening?"
"My people are tracking his car down," he says, making his way into the living room. "How are you doing?"
"I'm scared..." I look at him, and his eyes soften.
"We'll find him." He motions for me to sit on the couch and asks his men to wait for him in the kitchen. Once I'm settled, he turns on the TV and I give him a small smile.
"Thank you for being here," I say, feeling my whole body shaking.
His phone rings, and he gives me an apologetic smile. "It's the guys trying to track his car," he says, wheeling his chair and heading to the kitchen.
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