Alexander spent the next two hours pacing his office like an angry animal, checking his phone every thirty seconds.
Every notification made his heart jump.
Every silence made his jaw clench tighter.
Finally, two hours later, his phone rang.
He snatched it up.
“Tell me.” “I found out what happened after Miss Kelly left the company yesterday,” the investigator said, his voice flat and professional.
“She took a cab to St.
Louis General Hospital.
She was inside for about twenty minutes,” the investigator continued.
“Then she was seen being thrown into the back of a van and taken to an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district.” Alexander’s grip on the phone tightened until his palms turned red.
“An abandoned warehouse?” “Yes, sir.
The warehouse has been vacant for years.
It’s owned by a shell company that I’m still trying to trace.
But I was able to confirm that she was assaulted there by a man named Marcus Fernandez.” Alexander’s blood boiled.
The name was unfamiliar, but it didn’t matter.
Whoever this Marcus Fernandez was, he had laid his hands on something that belonged to Alexander Morrowgate.
And that was a crime that could not go unpunished.
“What happened next?” “Miss Kelly left the warehouse alone and took a cab to a bar called The Rusty Nail.
She was there for several hours, drinking heavily.
Then, around two hours later, King Morrowgate arrived at the same bar.” Alexander’s eyes narrowed.
“Did King have any business to attend there or around the area?” “I checked but there was none, sir,” he said.
“He walked in, spoke to Miss Kelly for a moment, and it was obvious she was drunk.
Then he scooped her into his arms.
Judging by what happened next, he intended to take her home…
until you showed up.” Alexander nodded slowly.
That part, at least, he already knew.
But the bigger question remained.
“Why did she go to the hospital?
What was she doing there?” The investigator hesitated.
“That’s…
where it gets complicated, sir.” “Complicated how?” “Someone has blocked the hospital’s records.
I can’t access anything related to Miss Kelly’s visit.
It’s like the information never existed.
Whoever did this has significant resources—this isn’t the work of some low-level hacker.
This is professional-grade data scrubbing.” Alexander’s mind raced.
Who would go to such lengths to hide why Kelly had gone to the hospital?
And why?
“What about Marcus Fernandez?” Alexander asked, his voice low and dangerous.
“Where is he now?” “Missing.” Alexander’s jaw tightened.
“What do you mean, missing?” “I mean he’s vanished, sir.
I’ve checked his known addresses, his usual hangouts, his family’s homes.
No one has seen him since last night.
His phone is off.
His social media has gone dark.
It’s like he’s disappeared from the face of the earth.” Alexander was silent for a long moment, processing the information.
Someone had beaten Kelly.
Someone had taken her to a warehouse and assaulted her.
Then, that same night, Marcus Fernandez—the man responsible—had vanished without a trace.
And on top of that, someone had blocked Kelly’s hospital records, hiding why she had gone there in the first place.
None of this made sense.
And Alexander hated not understanding things.
“Keep digging,” he ordered.
“I want to know who scrubbed those records.
I want to know where Marcus Fernandez is.
And I want to know everything there is to know about Kelly—her past, her family, her connections.
Leave no stone unturned.” “Yes, sir.” The line went dead.
Alexander stood by the window, staring out at the city, his reflection ghostly in the glass.
The pieces of the puzzle were scattered in front of him, but he couldn’t see how they fit together.
‘Who are you, Kelly?
What are you hiding?
And why do I care so damn much?’ He didn’t have answers.
But he knew one thing for certain: he wasn’t going to get any work done today.
He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
He needed to go home.
He needed to see Kelly.
He needed to look into those defiant eyes and demand the truth.
****** The drive back to the estate was a blur of traffic and red lights.
Alexander’s mind was churning with questions, theories, suspicions.
By the time he pulled through the gates of his mansion, his patience was hanging by a thread.
He strode through the front doors, his footsteps echoing against the marble floors.
Mrs.
Ahn appeared almost instantly, as if she had been waiting for him.
“Mr.
Alexander, welcome back.
I wasn’t expecting you until—” “Where is Kelly?” Alexander interrupted, his voice sharp.
Mrs.
Ahn blinked, taken aback by his urgency.
“She’s in her room, sir.
She’s been sleeping most of the day.
She came down with a fever this morning, so I’ve been bringing her food and medicine and letting her rest.” A flicker of concern cut through Alexander’s frustration.
“A fever?” “Yes, sir.
It’s not too high, but she’s clearly unwell.
I think the stress and the injuries from last night caught up with her.” Alexander nodded curtly and headed toward the staircase without another word.
His long legs took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding with an urgency he didn’t want to examine too closely.
He reached Kelly’s door and raised his hand to knock.
‘Knock.
Knock.’ Silence.
He knocked again, harder this time.
“Kelly?
Open the door.” Nothing.
His jaw tightened.
Was she ignoring him?
Had she passed out?
Had something happened?
“I’m coming in,” he announced, and turned the handle.
The door swung open.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn, covering everything in a soft, sleepy twilight.
And there, in the center of the bed, was Kelly.
She was curled up under the covers, her wig slightly askew, a few strands of dark hair peeking out from beneath it.
Her face was flushed with fever, her cheeks pink, her lips slightly parted.
She looked fragile.
Vulnerable.
Nothing like the fiery woman who had slapped him last night.
Alexander’s breath caught in his throat.
He stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him.
He walked to the edge of the bed and looked down at her, his chest tightening with an emotion he didn’t recognize.
She whimpered in her sleep, shifting restlessly, her brow furrowing as if she was in pain.
A thin sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead.
Alexander’s hand moved before his brain could stop it.
He reached down and gently brushed the hair from her face, his fingers grazing her warm skin.
She leaned into his touch instinctively, seeking comfort even in sleep.
‘She’s burning up.’ He pulled out his phone and dialed his family doctor, his voice low and commanding.
“Dr.
Gavin?
I need you to come to the estate immediately.
It’s urgent.” He hung up and turned back to Kelly.
His eyes traced the lines of her face—the bruises that stained her skin, the cut on her eyebrow, the swollen curve of her lip.
Someone had done this to her.
Someone had hurt her.
And Alexander found himself wanting to find that person and make them pay.
But more than that, he found himself wanting to protect her.
‘What is wrong with me?’ He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand still resting against her cheek.
She was so small like this.
So breakable.
The image of her standing up to him, eyes blazing with defiance, seemed like a distant memory now.
“You’re a mystery, Kelly,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a gentle path across her cheekbone.
“And I’m going to figure you out.” His eyes drifted down to her lips.
They were chapped, slightly parted, pink even without lipstick.
He shouldn’t.
He really, really shouldn’t.
But before he could stop himself, Alexander leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss was soft.
Gentle.
Barely a brush of skin against skin.
But it sent a jolt of electricity through his entire body, lighting up nerve endings he didn’t know he had.
Her lips were warm and soft, and for a single, perfect moment, the world stopped spinning.
And then Kelly’s eyes flew open.