NEXT MORNING

Fred paced in his office, glancing at the clock. Two hours had passed, and he still hadn’t heard from Bethany.

She was supposed to leave for her meeting abroad, but something about it felt... off.

His mind raced, clouded with regret over the harsh words he'd thrown at her the previous night.

It had distracted him so much that he hadn’t questioned the details of her sudden trip.

But now, as he pressed the matter, little inconsistencies surfaced: she hadn’t taken any money for a flight, nor had she submitted the client documents for the England deal.

The knot in his chest tightened. He hadn’t seen Stacy, his...