CHAPTER 149

CHAPTER 149
Dual POV

Before Celine's arrival....

Outside the restroom, Antonio stood patiently by the door with his hands crossed over his chest, waiting for Celine to finish up so they could head back.

He lifted his wrist and looked at the watch on it with a furrowed forehead, wondering why she wasn't out yet.

About 25 minutes had stretched by and he was beginning to get worried.

Unable to contain his concern, he faced the door, giving it a light knock. “Celine,” he called out. 

No response.

“Celine,” he called out again, then he heard a crash; a crash that was a little faint, but still loud enough to be heard, which seemed to have come from the other side, causing his eyes to widen slightly in alarm.

“Celine,” he said in a slightly raised voice, subtle panic flickering in his eyes as he grabbed onto the door handle, twisting it open two consecutive times. But it opened just a tad bit, the mopstick on the other side, hindering it from opening fully.

He balled his fist and rested it on the door, peeping into the space at the side of it, but it was too little to clearly see anything happening on the inside.

“Celine!” he called out yet again, the urgency in his tone reflecting on how loudly the door shook as he repeatedly banged on it like his life depended on it.

Then he arched his shoulder and slammed it against the door, pausing instantaneously as he felt a wetness on top of his socks.

He looked down, his gaze landing on the rush of water flowing out from the little space underneath the door, all the way beneath his Oxford shoes.

Convinced that something wasn't definitely right, he moved a few steps backwards and raised one leg, aggressively shoving his shoe against the door.

It swung open on impact and he hastily barged in, his hurried steps descending to a dragged pace as he beheld the sight before him in utter confusion.

The mop stick she'd used in wedging the door had snapped into two, and the unclean water from the mop bucket had tumbled and spilled all over the tiled floor, mixing with the one overflowing from the filled up sink.

“Celine,” he whispered under his breath, his widened and anxious eyes frantically darting around in search of her, but there was no sign of Celine. Then his gaze handed on the open window, as well as the trash can she'd used in climbing out, resting just by the wall.

He jumped over the mop bucket laying on the floor and rushed over to the window side, his fear rising to an almost choking point as he shoved his head through the limited space, looking out into the open surroundings, yet no sign of his wife.

He pulled his head back and walked towards the sink bowl and turned off the running faucet, pulling the stopper so that the water that had built up in it would drain out through the hole.

Then his gaze landed on Celine’s wet bag laying on the floor, as well as the diamond ring resting on top of it.

He leaned over and grabbed the ring together with her bag, his face turning slightly pale and ghostly. Thereafter, he stood upright slowly, a strained exhale escaping his parted lips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed repeatedly under his breath, squeezing the bag tightly in one hand, and clenching the ring in-between the palm of his other hand, as a pissed frown formed on his face.

He knew the ring was the only way of tracking her exact location, but it being here meant that he would have a hard time doing that.

More importantly, he feared for what might have happened to her and what condition she was in. And even more regrettably, he blamed himself for letting this happen right under his watch.

He pushed his hair back in frustration and quickly whipped around, marching out of the restroom. But he was brought to an abrupt halt as his phone rang in his pocket.

He reached into it and pulled the phone out, swiping up to answer.

“Boss, there's a problem,” Pedro blurted out from across the line, his tone bearing a sense of urgency as he swerved through cars driving through the busy road. “I just saw…”

The rest of his words drowned out as the network fluctuated, static sounds echoing from the speakers.

“What was that?” Antonio asked, squinting his ear.

“I said that I just saw Celine getting into an unknown Taxi.”

“What?!” Antonio said in a raised voice, his forehead creasing together to form multiple lines. “Where?”

“At first I wasn't sure whether to follow her when I saw her by chance sneaking towards the vineyard, when I went to run an errand for Matteo,” he explained. “But then I went back just in time to see her get into a black Taxi. I'm following them now. We're somewhere along the…”

“Where, Pedro?” he interrupted impatiently, scurrying towards the lawn behind the building annexing the main one. “You know what, just text me the address. I'm on my way. I don't care what you do, but do not let them get away at any cost.”

“You got it, boss,” he replied, the engine of his car growling noisily as he slammed his foot against the gas pedal. “I'll send you the fastest route to their location right now.”

Antonio hung up and hurriedly marched up to where Matteo stood and placed his hand on his shoulder, pulling him aside from the midst of the gentlemen and ladies he was cheerfully chatting and laughing with.

“Is something wrong?” Matteo asked with a concerned scowl, sensing the agitation on his hardened face.

“Just come with me,” Antonio said, looking down at the message notification from Pedro that had just popped up on his phone. 

“I'll explain everything on the way,” he added, and Matteo nodded vehemently, following him out.

They exited the building using the elevator and got into Antonio's car as they reached the parking lot; with Matteo in the passenger's seat and Antonio behind the wheel.