Chapter 232: Island Rumor (Part 1)

Jasmine's POV

The next day, we watched on the security feed as Alan checked out of his hotel and headed to JFK. Our team followed, maintaining surveillance until his flight departed.

"He's gone," Marcus confirmed as the plane took off. "Back to Prague."

I felt hollow, disappointed. After months of waiting, of hoping for some break, some connection that would lead to justice for Louis, we were left with nothing.

"So what now?" I asked.

"We continue watching him," Marcus said. "And we expand our investigation. Look deeper into his life in Prague, his business connections, his finances."

"And if we find nothing?" I pressed. "If he really has just... moved on?"

Richard's expression was grim. "Then we make a decision. About how to proceed."

I knew what he meant. If justice couldn't be found through legal channels, through investigation and evidence, there were other methods. Methods I'd once found unthinkable but now... now I wasn't so sure.

Two days later, I was at the Mitchell estate, helping Grace with a puzzle, when my phone rang. It was Marcus, his voice tight with urgency.

"Come to the house. Now. Bring Grace."

"What is it? What's happened?"

"Not over the phone. Just come."

Heart racing, I gathered Grace and her things, making up a story about a surprise visit to see her grandfather. Within the hour, we were at the Russo mansion, Grace happily ensconced in the kitchen with Isabella and cookies, while I hurried to Marcus's study.

Richard was already there, pacing the floor like a caged animal. Marcus sat behind his desk, his face pale.

"What's going on?" I demanded, fear clawing at my throat.

"Alan never went back to Prague," Marcus said without preamble. "He got off the plane during a layover in Paris and disappeared."

I sank into a chair. "Disappeared? How? Our people were watching him."

"He slipped them at Charles de Gaulle. It was well-planned—he must have known he was being followed."

Richard slammed his fist against the wall. "Dammit! We had him!"

"That's not all," Marcus continued, his voice carefully controlled. "We've received a report from one of our contacts in Switzerland. A man matching Alan's description was spotted in the same region where Louis disappeared."

The room seemed to tilt around me. "Switzerland? He went back there? Why would he—"

I broke off as a terrible thought occurred to me. A possibility so horrifying, so impossible, that I'd never allowed myself to consider it.

"What if Louis isn't dead?" I whispered, the words scarcely audible. "What if Alan kept him somewhere all this time?"

The silence that followed was deafening. It was Richard who finally broke it, his voice rough with emotion.

"It's been four years, Jasmine. If Louis were alive, held somewhere..."

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. The thought of Louis suffering for four years, perhaps believing we'd abandoned him, was unbearable.

"We need to send people to Switzerland," I said, rising from my chair. "Now. Today."

Marcus was already reaching for his phone. "I'll arrange it. And I'll contact our connections with the Swiss authorities."

"I'm going too," I announced, surprising even myself with the certainty in my voice.

Both men turned to stare at me.

"Jasmine, that's not—" Marcus began.

"I'm going," I repeated firmly. "Grace can stay with you and Isabella. I need to be there."

Richard's expression softened slightly. "It could be nothing, Jasmine. A mistaken identity, a coincidence."

"And if it's not?" I challenged. "If there's even the slightest chance that Louis... that he's..."

I couldn't say it, couldn't voice the hope that was taking root in my heart despite all logic and reason.

Richard and Marcus exchanged glances, communicating silently in that way longtime friends often do.

"Alright," Marcus conceded finally. "We'll all go. But Jasmine—" his voice grew gentle "—prepare yourself for disappointment. The odds that Louis has been alive all this time..."

"I know," I said quietly. "I know it's almost certainly not true. But I have to see for myself. I have to know."

As I left to explain to Grace that I'd be going away for a few days, I felt something I hadn't experienced in years—a wild, desperate hope. Logic told me it was impossible, that Louis couldn't have survived. But my heart, the part of me that had never fully accepted his death.

What if? What if he was out there, waiting for us to find him? What if, after all this time, we could bring him home?

The small seaplane descended toward the turquoise waters surrounding the island, bringing with it memories I'd spent years trying to suppress. The last time I'd been in Switzerland, I'd been pregnant with Grace, desperately searching for Louis in the mountains where he'd disappeared.

Now, four years later, I was back, chasing what might be nothing more than a shadow, a coincidence, or worse—a trap.

Marcus sat beside me, his expression grim. Richard and Daniel had taken another flight, approaching from a different direction in case we were being watched. The reports of Alan's presence in the region were vague—a sighting at a small hotel in a lakeside village, then nothing. But it was enough to bring us all rushing back to the country where we'd lost Louis.

"Remember what we agreed," Marcus said as the plane prepared to land. "We maintain a low profile. We follow the leads methodically. And we don't take unnecessary risks."

I nodded, though I wasn't sure I could keep that promise if it meant the difference between finding Louis and losing him again.

The seaplane touched down on the crystal-clear water, sending up a spray that momentarily obscured the view of the small island ahead. As it cleared, I saw a pristine sandy beach and, beyond it, lush vegetation climbing gentle slopes to a central peak.

"The island is privately owned," Marcus explained as the plane taxied toward a small wooden dock. "The owner is a business associate of mine, but he rarely uses the place. It's maintained by a small staff year-round."

"And Alan was seen here?" I asked, scanning the shoreline for any sign of human presence.

"Not on the island itself. In the village on the mainland, asking questions about the island. That's what caught our contact's attention."

My heart quickened. Why would Alan be interested in this remote island? What could possibly be here?