Chapter 345

"I nearly strangled her. Was that too extreme?" Ethan demanded.

"Depends on how you look at it."

Nathan, the neutral observer, weighed in. "Given your track record, strangulation isn't the worst I've seen from you. But hurting Vivian? That crossed a line."

In all their years of friendship, Nathan had never witnessed the usually composed Ethan so unraveled. Though frustrated by his actions, the raw anguish in Ethan's eyes made him soften his tone.

"She had it coming!" Ethan's calm shattered like thin ice, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "A life for a life—that's justice."

Nathan recoiled, exchanging a glance with Dominic before sighing. "Fine, it's fair. So we're wasting resources tracking her down just so you can finish the job?"

Ethan's glare could've frozen lava. "We'll discuss her punishment once she's back where she belongs."

The two men shared another knowing look. They understood Ethan better than anyone.

Beneath that icy exterior was a man who felt too deeply—and hated himself for it.

"Enough delays. Let's find her."

Dominic pulled up a holographic map, tracing Vivian's last known movements. "According to the data, she was at Lockhart Manor, West Hill Cemetery, Lockhart Enterprises headquarters, Blackwood Group HQ... and finally, Blackwood Villa."

Ethan's jaw tightened. "So she vanished from our home?"

"Fifty-one hours ago, yes." Dominic projected the timeline onto the screen.

Nathan cracked his knuckles. "Two days is manageable. We'll find her—she can't have gone far."

A sudden thought struck him. "What if she's still there? Vivian's clever enough to hide right under our noses, waiting for us to drop our guard."

Dominic nodded. "Plausible. We should sweep the villa again with more manpower."

Ethan studied the glowing trail of Vivian's whereabouts, his expression unreadable. "Do it."

The thought of her slipping through his fingers was unacceptable.

Blackwood Villa sprawled across acres of land. The trio split up—Ethan took the interior while Nathan and Dominic combed the grounds.

Ethan stormed upstairs to Vivian's bedroom. The moment he opened the door, her signature gardenia scent enveloped him.

He didn't know when he'd first noticed that fragrance. They said love had a smell—this was hers.

Whether he loved her or not didn't matter. That scent was his anchor, the only thing that ever calmed the storm inside him.

The empty room mocked him. His fingers curled into fists. "Vivian," he growled to the silence, "where the hell are you hiding?"