Chapter 275
Midnight draped the mountain festival grounds in velvet darkness, the kind that made even luxury feel secretive. Rafael and Eliana’s tent—less “temporary shelter” and more “royal delusion made of canvas”—lay hushed beneath towering pines. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called, sounding far too judgmental for the hour, while the wind whispered through the trees like it knew things it wasn’t sharing.
Rafael Vexley shifted beneath silk sheets, his body moving on instinct long before his mind caught up. One steel-grey eye cracked open as nature made its very unromantic demand. He reached out lazily, fingers searching for familiar warmth of his wife.
Nothing.
Cold silk greeted his palm.
That did it.
Rafael pushed himself upright, sleep evaporating in an instant. “Eliana?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, threaded with the dry sarcasm he used when he didn’t want to admit he was uneasy. His dark, wavy hair stood in rebellious disarray as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and rose. The wooden floor creaked softly beneath his bare feet, protesting his existence at such an ungodly hour.
He took care of his business quickly in the en-suite toilet, but his mind was already elsewhere, racing ahead of him. Eliana wasn’t the wandering-off-at-3-a.m. type. She was the kind-hearted, loyal sort. Organized. Thoughtful. Pregnant. Very pregnant. The woman carried snacks in her bag like survival gear, and that bag was as he could see, sitting on a desk near the bed—she didn’t just disappear into the night.
He stepped back into the tent and scanned the dim interior. The bed was rumpled, pillows scattered like casualties. A lantern flickered near the velvet chaise in the sitting area. Her vanity table stood cluttered with bottles and brushes, exactly as she’d left it. No long, curly black hair draped over a chair. No familiar hint of vanilla lingering in the air.
“Eliana,” he called again, louder this time. The word bounced off the canvas walls, returning to him empty and unhelpful.
His jaw tightened.
He moved fast now, checking the wardrobe where her clothes hung in orderly rows, peering behind partitions, even glancing into corners no sane person could hide in. Still nothing. The unease in his chest sharpened, twisting into something far less polite.
This wasn’t right.
A hard thud echoed in his ears—his heart, suddenly forgetting how to behave. Panic crept in, unwelcome and very much uninvited. Rafael snatched his phone from the bedside table and unlocked it with fingers that were no longer as steady as he liked to pretend they were.
James.
Of course it was James. Dependable, level-headed James, who probably slept in a perfectly pressed shirt just out of spite.
The call connected after two rings.
“Rafael?” James answered, voice thick with sleep but already sharpening with concern. “It’s three in the morning. Everything okay p>
“No,” Rafael snapped, the ice in his tone cracking clean through. “Eliana’s gone. I woke up and she’s not here. I’ve checked the entire damn tent. Where the hell is she p>
There was a brief pause on the line—just long enough to be unsettling—then the unmistakable sound of sheets rustling as James sat bolt upright.
“Gone?” he echoed, all traces of sleep evaporating. “What do you mean gone? She was with you the last time I checked in. Hold on—I’m alerting the men. Stay where you are. I’m on my way p>
The call ended, and Rafael didn’t waste a second. He opened the group line for his personal security detail—Oliver, Will, Liam, Kai, Viktor, and Jax. Six men handpicked for loyalty, precision, and the comforting ability to ruin someone’s life efficiently if necessary. They weren’t just bodyguards; they were muscle with brains and an alarming lack of mercy.
The conference line clicked alive.
“Boss?” Jax answered immediately, voice sharp, awake, and entirely too prepared for chaos—as if he’d been expecting the universe to misbehave.
“Eliana’s missing,” Rafael said, each word clipped and cold. “I woke up and she wasn’t in the tent. Where are you all? Has anyone seen her p>
The responses came fast and overlapping.
“Negative,” Oliver murmured from outside his post, already moving.
“Haven’t seen her,” Will growled.
“Last sighting was dinner, sir,” Liam added, calm but analytical.
“No visual,” Kai said flatly.
“I’ve seen nothing unusual on patrol,” Viktor confirmed, steady as ever.
Jax took control. “We’re assembling now, boss. Two minutes p>
“Make it one,” Rafael snapped and cut the line.
He began pacing, long strides tearing through the plush tent like a caged predator. His mind spiraled through possibilities, each worse than the last. His family—the venomous Vexleys, with Mirabel at the helm—had tried to kill him once already, staging the crash that was supposed to leave him broken and obedient. Was this another move on the board?
Or Jason Asher—Eliana’s charmingly persistent ex—hovering around the festival like a curse no one bothered to lift. And then there was Sarai Monroe, the so-called best friend, and Bianca—two smiling vipers wrapped in couture. Eliana trusted too easily. Saw the good in everyone. It was beautiful. It was dangerous. And tonight, it might cost her everything.
The tent flap flew open.
James rushed in, glasses crooked, shirt half-tucked, hair doing something rebellious it had no right to do. Behind him, the bodyguards fell into formation, instinctively creating a protective semicircle around Rafael.
Oliver faded into the background even here, eyes constantly moving. Will flexed his hands, metal softly clinking beneath his sleeves. Liam studied Rafael with unsettling accuracy, reading every tight muscle and clipped breath. Kai stood poised like a loaded weapon. Viktor remained calm, hands folded. Jax gave a short nod—ready to act.
“Report,” Rafael demanded, his voice sharp enough to draw blood. “When was the last time any of you saw her p>
Jax stepped forward. “I had eyes on her around ten, boss. She moved toward the side flap about five hours ago. Thought she was just getting some air. Oliver was shadowing her but lost her near the pines p>
Oliver stiffened. “She moved like she knew exactly where she was going, sir. Slipped through the tents, cut past the boulders. I doubled back when she didn’t reappear. Assumed she’d returned to the tent p>
Rafael’s steel eyes flashed, his composure finally cracking. “Vanished?” His voice dropped, dangerous and raw. “You let my pregnant wife vanish into the woods? What exactly am I paying you for—decorative presence p>
He dragged a hand through his hair, breath sharp, his entire frame vibrating with barely restrained fury. “James. Security. Now p>
Already moving, James grabbed the secure landline reserved for VIP emergencies. “This is James Harlow, assistant to Rafael Vexley. We have a situation. Mrs. Vexley is missing. Last seen heading toward the hiking trails. Pregnant. Slender build. Brown skin. Curly black hair. Mobilize all search teams immediately p>
The reply crackled with urgency. “Understood, Mr. Harlow. All units are being alerted. Guests will be woken if necessary—this qualifies as a high-priority disappearance p>
Rafael snatched the phone from James. “This is Rafael Vexley. My wife is out there, alone in these mountains. If anything happens to her or our child, I’ll hold this entire conference accountable. Get everyone out—guests, staff, everyone. Now p>
He slammed the receiver down, his breath coming in sharp bursts. Panic clawed deeper, his cold heart thawing into raw fear. Eliana—his light, the one who saw through his bitterness, who made him want to trust and live again. If she was hurt… “Find her,” he growled to his men. “Spread out. Oliver, take the trails; Will, check the ditches; Liam, read the crowds for whispers; Kai, shadows; Viktor, vehicles; Jax, coordinate with security p>
To be continued p>