Chapter 161 Unable to Find Her
Chapter 161 Unable to Find Her
The gut-wrenching coughs cut through the quiet cabin like a knife.
Elodie opened her palm.
Pooled in her hand was a dark red clot of blood — a shocking, ugly sight.
The disease was moving faster than she'd expected.
She pulled out a wet wipe and slowly cleaned her hand, then dropped the bloody tissue into a trash bag.
No fear. No despair.
Elodie leaned back in her seat, looked out at the blinding sunlight, and let out a long, slow breath.
She was finally free.
No more facing Adrian's cold stares. No more playing games with Chloe's schemes. No more being trapped in that cage called "Mrs. Stewart."
One billion to buy her way out of the past.
A fair trade.
---
Half a month later.
Harbor City.
The Stewart Group headquarters. Top floor. CEO's office.
Adrian sat behind his large desk, flipping through a quarterly report.
A knock at the door. His assistant walked in with a stack of files.
"Mr. Stewart, about Chloe..." the assistant said carefully. "She's been on a hunger strike for two days at Westside Villa. She's demanding to see you. The bodyguards say she's getting unstable — she's smashed quite a few things."
Adrian's hand paused on the report. His brow furrowed.
"Tell the bodyguards to make sure she doesn't starve to death. Otherwise, leave her alone."
The assistant nodded, set the files on the desk, but didn't leave.
Adrian looked up. "Something else?"
"About Ms. Turner..." The assistant swallowed. "She hasn't been back to Garden Vista Estates in the past two weeks. Our people checked all her usual spots. No sign of her."
Adrian closed the report and leaned back in his chair.
Two weeks.
Since coming back from the cruise, he hadn't seen Elodie once.
He figured she needed time — time to process taking that billion, time to get over the humiliation of nearly drowning.
He'd given her two weeks to cool down.
He hadn't reached out. He'd even deliberately kept his distance from Chloe, just to make his position clear.
She should be over it by now.
Adrian pulled open his drawer and took out a deep blue velvet jewelry box.
Inside lay a dazzling pink diamond necklace — the centerpiece a full twenty carats, a rare piece he'd won at auction just two days ago.
"Get the car ready." Adrian stood and buttoned his jacket. "We're going to Lucas's firm."
When a woman threw a fit, she always needed an out to back down gracefully.
He'd pick her up from work himself, hand her this priceless necklace. He was already being more than generous.
Thirty minutes later.
A black Maybach pulled up outside a downtown CBD office tower.
Adrian walked into the lobby with the jewelry box, took the elevator straight to the 28th floor, and stepped into Blackstone Law Group.
The office was quiet. A few assistants were sorting through case files.
Adrian walked directly to the front desk.
"Where's Elodie?" He tapped the marble counter, his tone matter-of-fact. "Tell her to pack up. I'm here to take her home."
The receptionist looked up, saw who it was, and froze.
"Mr. Stewart?" She looked confused. "You didn't know? Ms. Turner resigned."
Adrian's fingers stopped mid-tap.
"Resigned?" His eyes narrowed. "When?"
"About two weeks ago. The day after the cruise team-building trip." The receptionist answered honestly. "Ms. Turner cleared out her entire office."
Adrian's expression darkened instantly.
He didn't buy it.
He knew better than anyone how much that job meant to Elodie. How many all-nighters had she pulled just to get nominated for senior partner? She wouldn't just walk away like that.
Adrian pushed through the reception gate and headed straight into the office area.
"Mr. Stewart! You can't just go back there!" The receptionist panicked and rushed after him.
He ignored her, found Elodie's private office from memory, and shoved open the glass door.
The room was empty.
No files on the desk. No computer. No pothos plant she'd been growing for years.
Even the drawers were hanging open — spotless inside, not so much as a sticky note left behind.
Adrian stood in the doorway, staring at the office stripped of every trace of her, and felt a strange, restless irritation rise in his chest.
"What brings Mr. Stewart to my firm?"
A cool male voice came from behind him.
Adrian turned around.
Lucas stood in the hallway in a sharp dark grey suit, a manila envelope in hand, watching him.
"Where's Elodie?" Adrian walked toward him, his gaze bearing down hard. "Don't tell me she actually quit. What's her problem now?"
Lucas adjusted his glasses and gave a thin, humorless smile.
"Her problem?" he said with contempt. "Mr. Stewart, you think a little too highly of yourself."
He stepped forward and slapped the manila envelope against Adrian's chest.
"Elodie asked me to give you this before she left."
Adrian grabbed it and tore it open.
Inside was a signed divorce agreement.
Elodie's signature was clean and decisive.
Adrian stared at her name. His breath caught.
"Where is she?" His knuckles went white around the paper, his voice dropping low and rough.
"Gone." Lucas stood with his hands in his pockets, his tone flat. "She asked me to pass along a message."
Adrian snapped his head up and locked eyes with Lucas.
"The deal is done." Lucas held his gaze and said it slowly, word by word. "In life or in death — we will not meet again."
In life or in death — we will not meet again.
The words hit like a hammer blow, straight to his temple.
"Bullshit!" Adrian tore the divorce agreement in half on the spot and threw it to the ground. "She takes a billion from me and thinks she can just disappear? Dream on!"
He yanked out his phone and called his assistant.
"Find her!" Adrian barked into the phone. "Pull up everything on Elodie — flights, trains, hotels, every transaction. I don't care if she's crawled into a hole in the ground. Dig her out!"
He hung up, chest heaving.
He didn't believe she could get far.
A woman, carrying a billion in cash — where could she hide? As long as she was still in Astoria, he'd drag her back.
Lucas watched him unravel with cold, detached eyes, said nothing, and walked back to his office.
The hallway fell dead silent.
Adrian stood there, the jewelry box crushed out of shape in his grip.
Three minutes later.
His phone buzzed.
Adrian answered immediately. "Where is she?"
On the other end, his assistant's voice was shaking. Frantic keyboard sounds filled the background.
"Mr. Stewart..." The assistant swallowed. He felt the blood draining from his body. "We can't find her."
"What do you mean you can't find her?"
"There's no trace of Ms. Turner in any system." The assistant wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. "No flight records. No train records. Her bank accounts and phone numbers in Astoria were all cancelled two weeks ago."
Adrian felt suddenly, completely lost.
"Keep looking — find her entry records!" he said through gritted teeth. "Even if she snuck out, there's always a trail!"
"We did look..." The assistant's voice got smaller. "Mr. Stewart, customs just flagged something unusual."
"Tell me."
"Two weeks ago, a private jet departed from the harbor city. Destination: Eldoria. Ms. Turner's name was not on the passenger manifest."
Adrian let out a sharp, furious laugh. "Then why are you telling me about it?"
"But..." The assistant took a deep breath. "That jet was a registered emergency medical transport flight under the International Red Cross. Destination: St. Gallen Cancer Research Center."
Adrian's breath stopped cold.
"And..." The assistant's voice cracked. "Before takeoff, they loaded the cabin with a large amount of... emergency medical equipment. And blood plasma."
The jewelry box slipped from Adrian's hand and hit the marble floor.
The box burst open. The priceless pink diamond necklace spilled out and rolled across the cold floor, scattering sharp, brilliant light.
Emergency medical transport.
Cancer research center.
Resuscitation equipment. Blood plasma.
Adrian stood alone in the empty hallway. The air around him seemed to vanish all at once. An invisible hand closed around his heart, and even breathing felt hard.