Chapter 19
Charles didn’t say it–but they all knew the odds were slim.
Still, hope was better than death.
When they found Rhett that night, half–conscious and curled on the floor of the VIP suite, they’d
thought he wouldn’t make it.
Luckily, the stomach pump saved his life.
Barely.
After confirming he was out of danger, the others left quietly.
The room fell silent.
Only Rhett remained.
Alone.
He couldn’t sit still.
Rhett grabbed his phone and called his assistant.
“Any news on Vivian’s family?”
There was a long pause on the other end before Zhang sighed heavily.
“Mr. Sinclair… after Miss Vivian and her family canceled their identities, they boarded an international flight. She changed her name and has been moving frequently ever since. We’ve only been able to track a few cities where they briefly stayed. But their current location… still unknown.”
“The Sinclair family’s power overseas is limited. Tracking them down is like finding a needle in a haystack. It will take time.”
Rhett pinched the bridge of his nose, his temples throbbing.
“Then increase the manpower. And prep all in–person meetings–I want everything done within the next three days. After that, switch all operations to remote.”
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“I’m flying abroad. I’m going to find her myself.”
Assistant Henry didn’t question it–he could hear the resolve in Rhett’s voice.
For the next three days, Rhett worked around the clock from his hospital bed, finishing every task
like a machine.
He couldn’t afford to delay–not when Caleb had already been abroad for weeks.
He was already late.
He couldn’t be later.
As soon as the last file was signed, he packed a small suitcase and boarded the earliest flight to France–the last place Vivian had been spotted.
The plane cut across the sky, leaving a sharp white line behind it.
On the Champs–Élysées, Rhett wandered.
Aimlessly.
Desperately.
He had no idea where to start.
le visited every place she’d once mentioned she wanted to see.
Every last one.
Nothing.
No sign of her.
The tension in his heart slowly deflated into despair.
One day… five… two weeks…
He lost count of the days.
His face was thinner, his skin tanned from the sun, but there was a deadness in his eyes that no light could reach.
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The dark circles beneath them were like bruises–permanent.
He couldn’t sleep.
Not without her.
It was torture–far worse than any physical pain.
If she appeared right now, even if she beat him bloody–he’d take it. Gladly.
Anything was better than this endless silence.
This was what it felt like… to wait for someone who might never return.
He truly regretted it now.
If he could go back, he’d tear his past self apart with his own hands.
He moved like a ghost, eyes hollow, hope flickering.
Until-
His eyes seemed to flash over a back that was very similar to Vivian’s.
She was also holding a man!
His heart plunged into acid.
Without thinking, Rhett sprinted forward and punched the man–hard.
“Let go of my wife!”
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