Chapter 6 The Night of Reckoning

Ethan stirred from his half-sleep.

He hadn't truly been resting - his body had simply surrendered to exhaustion after hours of relentless thought.

His head rested against the leather chair in his office, the darkness around him broken only by the dim glow of his phone screen,

vibrating again and again with messages he didn't want to read.

He rose slowly, running a tired hand over his face.

Across the room, his bodyguard stood stiffly, hesitant to speak.

"No news yet?"

Ethan's voice came out rough - the kind of sound carved from anger and fear mixed together.

The man lowered his gaze, guilt shadowing his features.

"I'm sorry, sir. Nothing yet... no reports from any hospitals or police stations."

Ethan's hand trembled as he pressed it against the desk.

He didn't know what hurt more - that she had vanished,

or that she might be out there, scared and alone, while he could do nothing to reach her.

"Am I supposed to wait until something happens to her?!"

His roar thundered through the office, shaking the air.

The guard flinched, too afraid to reply.

Silence fell.

Only the sound of Ethan's uneven breathing filled the room - heavy, sharp, suffocating.

His eyes burned with a desperation that only deepened as the seconds slipped away.

⸻

Elsewhere,

Amelia stood before a large mirror, staring at the reflection that didn't feel like hers.

The innocent girl with simple clothes and soft eyes was gone.

In her place stood a stranger -

a woman in a revealing dress, cut low at the chest and scandalously short,

the fabric clinging to every curve as if it wanted to expose her to the world.

Her fingers trembled as she touched the fabric,

and a quiet gasp escaped her lips.

"Is this... me?" she whispered.

"How did I end up here?"

The sudden ring of her phone snapped her from her thoughts.

She glanced at the screen - Emma.

Her heart sank. She stepped back instinctively.

She couldn't answer.

How could she explain something she herself didn't understand?

She pressed the phone to her chest, eyes closing as a whisper left her trembling lips.

"I'm sorry, Emma... please, just give me time."

She sank onto the edge of the bed, staring at the floor,

the weight of shame and confusion pressing down on her chest.

Outside the door, footsteps echoed softly -

Sophia's.

Each step came closer,

carrying with it the promise of something new...

or perhaps, the beginning of a fall she would never escape.

Hours passed like centuries for Ethan.

Every tick of the clock dug deeper into his chest, pressing against his lungs, suffocating him slowly.

He sat in his office, slouched in the leather chair, his tie loosened, eyes hollow.

He hadn't really slept - it wasn't rest, it was surrender.

A momentary collapse of a man who had forgotten what peace felt like.

His phone buzzed, slicing through the silence.

He lifted his head slowly, half afraid, half desperate -

and then froze when he heard the voice on the other end.

"Sir... we found something. The girl - she's been spotted. There's a party tonight. She'll be there... in less than an hour."

For a heartbeat, Ethan couldn't breathe.

Then came the exhale - deep, heavy, and filled with the fire of relief and rage.

Finally.

Finally, he had a trace of her.

He shot up from his chair, his palm slamming against the desk.

The papers scattered, and his eyes burned like stormlight.

"Find out everything," he ordered, his tone sharp as a blade.

"The place, the host, the guests - every single detail.

Leave nothing unseen."

The bodyguard nodded and hurried away.

Ethan remained still for a moment, his reflection flickering in the window before him - a man torn between fury and fear.

And then the report came back... one name that made his blood run cold.

Sophia.

He knew her too well.

A woman without conscience - a broker of sin wrapped in perfume and silk.

Once beneath his feet, now apparently risen from the filth she ruled.

If Amelia had fallen into her hands...

He clenched his jaw until it hurt.

No. He wouldn't allow it.

Just then, his phone rang again - an unfamiliar number, but his instincts told him exactly who it was.

He stared at the screen for a second, eyes narrowing, then answered.

"Ethan," came a soft, sultry voice, smooth like honey and twice as poisonous.

"I hope you'll come to my birthday party tonight. I promise it'll be worth your time.

I've prepared something special... just for you."

He said nothing for a moment, reading the meaning behind her tone - every pause, every purr, every hidden trap.

There was something in her voice that set off every alarm in his head.

But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm - cold, polished steel beneath velvet.

"Of course I'll come, Sophia," he said.

"How could I ever miss your little celebration?

And I'll bring you a gift you'll never forget."

When the line went dead, the silence that followed felt heavier than thunder.

Ethan stood before the glass wall of his office, his reflection dark and sharp - a man no longer bound by reason.

Tonight wouldn't be Sophia's celebration.

It would be her reckoning.