Chapter 22 24 hours
“Elena! Elena—answer me!”
Jaxon’s voice rang out in desperation, but the line had gone dead. His blood turned cold.His heart dancing inside him.
He immediately redialed her number. Once. Twice. Three times.
No connection.
A wave of dread crashed into him. Something was wrong—terribly wrong.
Without another word, he shot up from his chair, causing heads to turn in the boardroom. The meeting was in full swing, but he didn’t care. His sudden movement silenced the entire room.
“Mr. Wentworth?” one of the executives asked, confused.
Jaxon ignored them.
He was already halfway to the door when he barked into his phone, “Damon, call Vivienne—now. Ask her where Elena went.”
Damon didn’t ask questions. He quickly dialed Vivienne Montclair.
“Hello, Mrs. Montclair,” he said as the call connected.
“Damon, is everything alright?” Vivienne’s voice came, calm and unsuspecting.
“Yes, ma’am. I just needed to ask—where did Elena go this morning?”
“Oh, she said she was heading over to see Brielle. Something about meeting Brielle to finalize the décor layout for the engagement hall,” Vivienne replied warmly.
“Alright, thank you,” Damon said and ended the call.
He turned just in time to see Jaxon stepping into the elevator, the doors sliding shut.
“She went to see Brielle,” Damon relayed through the Bluetooth.
“Then something’s wrong,” Jaxon muttered, jaw clenched. “She never made it to her office.”
The elevator dinged at the lobby. Jaxon stormed out, heading straight to the underground parking lot. He had never driven himself before—his driver usually handled that—but today, he didn't care.
He needed to move. Fast.
He jumped into one of his black sports cars, hands trembling slightly as he started the ignition. His phone was already on speaker as he shouted into it, “Damon, go to Elena’s office. Ask everyone. Confirm if she got there. I’m heading to Brielle’s.”
“On it.”
Jaxon slammed the car into gear and sped out of the building. His heart was racing—too fast.
He tried calling Brielle.
No answer.
Again.
Still nothing.
He growled, slamming his palm against the steering wheel. “Damn it! Where are you, Elena?”
Elena sat in darkness. Her wrists were bound tightly behind her back, the ropes biting into her skin. A thick blindfold covered her eyes, and duct tape pressed against her lips.
Her breathing was sharp and panicked.
She didn’t know where she was, or how long she had been there. But the space smelled like damp concrete. The air was cold. She could hear the faint hum of a generator and the occasional thud of footsteps outside.
Voices echoed faintly.
“Make sure she doesn’t escape,” a woman’s voice commanded. “No mistakes. Feed her. Watch her. Don’t let her scream.”
The door creaked open.
Someone stepped inside. Elena tensed.
The same voice spoke again—cold and laced with bitterness.
“Well, well… Look what we have here,” the woman sneered.
Though blindfolded, Elena could feel the presence. Whoever it was stood close, watching her.
Then, without another word, the person turned and walked away. The door shut behind them.
Outside the room, the woman pulled out her phone and dialed a number.
“She’s here,” she said.
Caleb’s voice answered, smooth and satisfied.
“Good. Make sure she stays there. That engagement… will never happen.”
The call ended.
Maya slid her phone back into her pocket, a cruel smile tugging at her lips.
Back in the city, Jaxon pulled up in front of Brielle’s apartment. At that same moment, Damon’s car parked behind him.
Jaxon stormed up to the door just as Damon called out.
“She never showed up at the office,” Damon said, panting slightly. “Her staff confirmed she hasn’t been in since she went on leave.”
Jaxon cursed under his breath and rang the doorbell.
Brielle answered moments later, dressed in a pajama set, a plate of waffles in her hand and a TV show playing in the background.
“Jaxon?” she blinked. “What’s going on?”
“Where’s Elena?” he demanded.
Brielle froze. “She’s… at home, right?”
“She’s not,” he replied sharply. “She’s not at work either.”
“Maybe she went shopping or something…” Brielle trailed off, grabbing her phone off the couch.
“She called me,” Jaxon said. “She sounded scared. And then I heard screaming before the call cut off.”
Brielle’s eyes widened in shock. “What?!”
She quickly unlocked her phone. Missed calls. Dozens of unread messages.
Her eyes scanned through them rapidly.
“Elena texted me,” she muttered. “She said she was heading to work… and—wait…”
She paused, holding up the screen.
“She asked me, ‘What’s the emergency about, Brielle?’”
Jaxon’s face hardened. “You sent her a message?”
Brielle shook her head violently. “No! I didn’t send her anything this morning. I’ve been here the whole time!”
Realization hit them both like a punch to the chest.
Someone had used Brielle’s identity to lure Elena out.
Brielle scrolled back, her hands trembling. “These messages weren’t from me. Someone else must’ve sent them.”
“Let me see it,” Jaxon said, taking the phone.
He read the messages, jaw tightening with every word.
“Damon, trace these messages. I want to know who sent them. Clone the number if you have to.”
“I’m already on it,” Damon replied, pulling out a secondary device.
Jaxon turned to Brielle. “You don’t say a word of this to Elena’s parents. Not yet. Not until we find her.”
“Okay,” Brielle nodded quickly, her voice shaky. “Oh God, Jaxon, what if something—what if something really bad happened to her?”
Jaxon’s eyes were filled with fire.
“She’s out there,” he said. “And I swear I’ll find her before tomorrow.”
He looked out the window, fists clenched.
They had twenty-four hours before the engagement.
And someone was determined to tear it all apart.