Chapter 69

Chapter 69
CHAPTER 69
HADES

The late afternoon sun was beginning to dip, casting long, sharp shadows across my corner office. I stood behind my desk, holding my phone tightly against my ear as I paced slowly.

"Where are the photos?" I demanded, my voice low and laced with an edge that made the man on the other end clear his throat nervously.

"We're pulling them up right now, Boss," the Head of Marketing and CSR replied, his breath ragged. "During the field outreach program and immersion in the countryside, our documentation team took hundreds of candid shots. When I caught a glimpse of one of the local volunteers, I nearly stopped breathing. My digital team is extracting those raw files right now and sending them straight to your personal email—"

Before he could even finish his sentence, the sharp ping of an incoming encrypted file echoed through my computer speakers.

"They're in your inbox now, sir," the marketing head added quickly. "Please... take a look."

I ended the call without another word, my heart thumping against my ribs like a sledgehammer. I walked over to my desk and clicked open the email. Three stolen, candid photos loaded onto the screen.

The moment the images fully rendered, I froze. Shock—pure, paralyzing shock—rippled through every nerve in my body.

The woman in the photos had short hair, soft and reaching just above her shoulders. She was wearing oversized eyeglasses, plain canvas sneakers, and a casual, laid-back dress—completely devoid of the sharp, high-end designer attire she used to wear. She looked so simple. So remarkably grounded. So entirely different from the woman who used to stand by my side in the corporate spotlight.

For a split second, doubt crept into my chest. Is it really her?

I zoomed in on her face, studying the curve of her jaw, the delicate tilt of her chin, and the undeniable softness in her eyes as she handed a lunch box to a toddler.

The shock transformed into a fierce, possessive ache.

It was her. It was Maddie.

No matter how short her hair was, no matter how much she disguised herself under oversized glasses and humble clothes, I would know my wife anywhere. I wouldn't miss this chance. I couldn't miss it.

I leaned back in my leather chair, staring at her face, my fingers gripping the edge of the desk until my knuckles turned white. All the games, the manipulation, the cold control, and the absolute hell I had put her through—it had cost me everything. It had driven her into hiding. But I had changed. The past months without her had been their own form of torture, breaking me down until I realized what actually mattered.

I didn't want her to be afraid of me anymore. I didn't want to be the monster lurking in her nightmares. I wanted to make things right this time. Despite everything we went through, I trusted her. And deep down, beneath all the pain and the fear I caused her, I knew she still loved me. I was going to win her back—not through force, not through fear, but by earning her heart all over again, the right way.

The heavy mahogany door to my office clicked open, interrupting my thoughts. Marcus stepped inside, carrying a thick leather folder. He placed it squarely on my desk.

"Everything on Oakridge, Boss," Marcus said neutrally. "Maps, local establishments, property records, and the full dossier on every prominent figure in that town."

I flipped open the folder. The top page held a newly created local profile.

Name: Sofia Collins.

Occupation: Daycare Assistant, Oakridge Little Sprouts Daycare.

I scanned the attached pages, taking in every piece of intelligence. Marcus had mapped out her entire world down to the smallest detail. She had arrived in Oakridge just a month ago—a quiet, tight-knit town where everyone knew everybody, making it the perfect hideout for someone trying to blend into a close community.

I flipped through photos of the local townspeople surrounding her. Annie, the head of the daycare; the Smiths, a retired couple who owned the daycare lot and generously let them use it for free; and Julian, a local mechanic who owned a repair shop down the street and seemed to pop up far too often in her vicinity.

I skimmed through the remaining sheets in the folder—brief profile summaries of the kids at the daycare and their local families, detailing their backgrounds and daily routines. Marcus had left no stone unturned.

Marcus leaned over the desk slightly, his expression stern. "We have eight men on standby in the garage, Boss. The motorcade is ready. Do you want us to head down to Oakridge right now, secure the perimeter, and bring her back?"

My hand froze over her picture.

Months ago, I wouldn't have hesitated. I would have sent three teams, cordoned off the entire town, dragged her out of Oakridge Little Sprouts Daycare, and locked her in the estate until she accepted her place beside me.

But as I looked at her smiling face in those stolen photos—a genuine, unforced smile I hadn't seen on her in years—the urge to unleash force evaporated.

If I used violence now, if I dragged her back kicking and screaming, she would only see the tyrant she ran away from. I would lose her forever.

"No," I said, my voice quiet, cold, and final.

Marcus blinked, caught off guard. "Boss?"

"Cancel the retrieval team," I ordered, closing the folder with a slow, deliberate motion. "We are not raiding that town. We are not causing a scene."

"Sir, if she realizes we found her, she might run again—"

"She won't know," I cut him off, my gaze locking onto Marcus with dangerous intensity. "Send a small detail. Three men, strictly covert. Plain clothes, unmarked vehicles. Tell them to stay lowkey and keep their distance. I want them observing from afar—no trailing her too closely, no lingering around Oakridge Little Sprouts Daycare, and absolutely no interaction with her or the locals."

I stood up, walking toward the window and looking out over the city skyline.

"I want daily reports," I continued softly. "Her schedule, her tasks, who she talks to, what time she opens that daycare, and when she goes home. Every detail. But they do not touch her, Marcus. Not yet. I am going to win her back, and I need to do this right."

Marcus stared at me for a long moment before giving a sharp, respectful nod. "Understood, Boss. I'll deploy the surveillance team immediately."

As Marcus exited the room, I picked up my personal phone and found Lizzie’s direct line. I pressed dial, holding the phone to my ear. It rang four times before she picked up, trying to sound completely casual.

"Hades? What's up?"

"I found her, Lizzie," I said simply.

A sharp intake of breath echoed through the receiver, followed by a sudden, heavy silence. She was genuinely stunned—completely caught off guard because she genuinely had no idea Maddie was even alive, let alone where she was.

"You... you found her?" Lizzie gasped, her voice trembling as sheer relief and disbelief flooded through the line. "Oh, thank God... Thank God she's alive! Where is she, Hades? How is she doing?"

She paused, her tone shifting into a deeply emotional, desperate plea. "Hades, please... if she's really out there, please don't push her. Do you have any idea how terrified and broken she was before she vanished? She was living in constant fear! If you really care about her, please just go easy on her. Don't destroy whatever peace she's trying to rebuild."

I listened quietly, my chest tightening at the genuine panic and concern in her voice.

"I'm not going to hurt her, Lizzie," I replied, my tone soft yet resolute. "I'm not bringing her back by force. I just needed you to know that I found her. And this time, I'm doing things right."

Before she could say anything else, I ended the call.

I picked up the desk phone and speed-dialed another contact. It picked up on the second ring.

"Boss?"

"Connect me to our Property Acquisition Manager," I commanded, my voice turning smooth and calculated once more. "I want him to look into Oakridge immediately. Have him search for a prime commercial lot or an existing property in a good area within the town. We're launching a new development project there."

There was a slight pause on the line, followed by the rustling of papers on the manager's end.

"Oakridge, sir? Actually, Boss, our development team has been eyeing a prime lot down there for a while now," the manager explained carefully. "It's an ideal location for a development project, but based on our preliminary research, acquiring it is going to be extremely difficult."

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "Why?"

"The local residents were all born and raised there, sir," he continued, sounding hesitant. "They're fiercely protective of their land and deeply attached to their town. Money alone won't convince them to sell. That’s actually why our Marketing and CSR teams have been conducting field immersions and community outreach activities there—to gain their trust and win their hearts before we even make a formal pitch."

A slow, deliberate smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I looked back down at Maddie's picture on my desk. Everything was falling perfectly into place.

"Keep those CSR initiatives going," I said softly, my voice dropping to a decisive, dangerous hush. "In fact, expand them. Increase the budget for those outreach programs. I will personally oversee the entire development project myself."

"Understood, Boss. I'll send over the project files and location details right away."

I hung up, resting my fingertips on the frame of her photograph. If she was building a life in Oakridge, then I would build my way into her world—brick by brick, until she had no choice but to see that I was staying.