Just Before My Wedding: Trapped By My Ruthless Boss novel Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

OCEANS.

“What the fuck do you mean he doesn’t know?”

I pressed the phone to my ear and kept my voice even, because the alternative was putting my fist through the mirror I was standing in front of.

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“He said he found a girl, sir. She was conscious but barely. Begged him not to take her to a hospital or contact the authorities.” Reeves paused. “He said she was specific about that. Insistent, even given the state she was in. He agreed, gave her what first aid he could, and when he checked on her an hour later, she was gone. He never saw her again and never heard from her.”

I set the towel down on the bathroom counter.

So she had been coherent enough to make decisions. Coherent enough to be afraid of hospitals, police presence, and anyone who might log her name somewhere. Which meant the wound hadn’t been as bad as I had spent six years imagining it. Which should have been a relief.

It wasn’t.

Fuck.

“Didn’t she have an ID on her? A bag? Anything at all that could have given up her name, at least?” I asked.

“Nothing. He said he couldn’t find any identification on her. He didn’t search her thoroughly his words. He was trying to keep her calm.” He paused again. “He did say the wound was a graze. The bullet didn’t embed. It just tore the surface and exited. He said she was lucky.”

“How the fuck is that supposed to help me?” I hissed and turned away from the mirror.

It’s been six years of Reeves running every thread available to a man with my resources, and the most substantive thing we had come back with was that she’d been lucky and she’d walked away on her own.

We were quiet for a while, as I processed everything I just heard.

I had to find her before the bastard who texted me gets her first. This would be the biggest unsolved mystery I’ve ever encountered.

The attempt on my life.

No trace of who wanted and still wants me dead.

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Chapter 19

No trace of the woman I had so much gratitude to give.

And now, the bastard is back again, and not only are they after my life, but they want her to pay the price.

I won’t let that happen.

“Set another meeting with him.” I said after a moment, “I want to see him.”

“Okay, sir. When will it be convenient for you?” He asked.

“Tomorrow. 7 PM.”

I ended the call and dialed Jeff’s line. He answered on the second ring.

“Tell me you’ve got something,” I asked, running my finger through my hair, hoping I’ll get something positive from him.

“I’ve got something,” Jeff said. “Not what you wanted. But something.”

I walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. “Go.”

“The text.” He pulled a breath, “I couldn’t trace the sender. He used a routing tool that strips every identifying marker before the message even leaves his end. No IP, no location, nothing.” He paused. “But the tool itself is the interesting part. It’s not something you just download. It’s privately built – custom code. I’ve only ever seen this specific signature used once before, about two years ago, in a different situation entirely. Whoever this person is, they either built this themselves or they know someone who did.”

“Narrow that down.”

“I’m already on it. The people capable of writing something like this are on a very short list. I just need time to cross–reference the signature against known work.”

“You have 48 hours,” I said and dropped the call.

*

KISAREL.

I snuck out of the room to make a call the second he went in to have a shower.

Jace had been calling nonstop, and the more I ignored his calls, the more persistent they became. I had to turn off my phone at some point.

“Babe. I thought we were over this?” He sounded frustrated, tired, worried, and everything that made my heart ache. “Are you still upset with me?”

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“No. It’s not that. I’ve just been… I’ve been busy.” I replied, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Busy with what?” He asked.

“Work.”

“It’s a weekend. Who are you kidding?” He scoffed.

“I just got promoted, Jace. The workload doesn’t observe weekends.” I pinched the bridge of

my nose.

“You didn’t sleep at home. I called last night.” He said, and I sincerely hadn’t prepared myself for that question.

I should have known that he’d call home to ask after me.

“I had things to sort out,” I replied calmly, so my guilt doesn’t give me away.

“Are you at the office?”

“Jace.”

“I’m just asking.”

“I know you are.” I kept my voice warm. “I have a lot on my plate right now. Can we talk properly tomorrow?”

“Arel… I can feel it. Something is not right with you.” He exhaled. “Is this still about Moon? Because if it is, I need you to know that-”

“Don’t, Jace. Don’t go there. Please. I’ve gone past that,” I cut him off immediately.

“Okay. Okay. It’s fine, baby. Just…” He paused for a second, “Can I see you tomorrow? Perhaps you could spend the night at my place?”

“I don’t know. It depends on my work schedule,” I replied, not exactly thrilled by the idea of spending the night with him.

–

Once upon a time, that had always been my greatest joy – whenever he invited me over, I always went through the whole day, looking forward to it.

But right now, all I felt was… Nothing.

“Tell me. Is your boss working you too hard? Because I could say something to him. Ask him to ease up a little.” He asked, and I felt something down my stomach that I shouldn’t be

feeling right now.

‘Ease up on me…

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My brain interpreted something entirely different, and for one silly second, I almost laughed.

“Jace. I’ll see you tomorrow. Just take care.”

He hesitated, “Okay, sweetheart. I love you.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

I dropped the call. And sincerely, it felt more like an obligation I had just carried out.

I scrolled through and called Elgin. He picked on the third ring.

“Arel!” His voice came through the phone like a burst of sunlight. “Mon Dieu. You call me back now? After yesterday? After you just poof – disappeared into thin air like a magician’s assistant with no explanation and no callback and no…”

“Elgin.”

my best “…and I sat here, alone, in this city that still smells nothing like Paris, wondering if friend had been kidnapped or if she had simply decided that six years of friendship meant nothing to her anymore and…”

“Elgin.” I laughed despite myself, pressing my palm over my mouth to muffle it. “I’m sorry. I genuinely am. Something came up and I couldn’t—”

“Something.” He said the word. “Something came up. Arel, I know your voice. I have known your voice since Gerald dragged me to meet the strange, quiet girl who had refused to go to a hospital despite having a-

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“Elgin.” I glanced toward the hallway. “I don’t have much time right now. I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything tomorrow, I promise. Can we meet after work? We’ll spend the whole evening together. It won’t be a bad idea to see Gerald again. It’s been almost a year since I dropped by to see him. We’ll go out after that. Anywhere of your choice. My treat.”

The silence that followed had texture to it. I could picture him exactly – lips pressed together, head tilted, weighing whether his grievance outweighed his curiosity.

“The whole evening,” he repeated.

“The whole evening.”

“Because I have questions, Arel. Many questions. Structured questions. With follow–ups.”

“I know you do.”

“And you will answer all of them.”

“Most of them,” I said honestly.”

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基

He made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Fine. Tomorrow. But I want to go somewhere nice. Somewhere with good wine. French wine specifically because this country’s relationship with wine is deeply problematic, and I have been suffering quietly about it since I landed.”

I smiled, and it was the first one all morning that didn’t require any effort. “French wine.

Done.”

“Good.”

AD