---- Chapter 9 Killian POV: The woman in my arms was soft, pliant, and smelled of expensive perfume, but all | felt was a gnawing unease. Dallas was tracing patterns on my chest with her painted nails, murmuring about a new handbag she wanted, but her voice was just background noise. Something was wrong. A strange, unfamiliar anxiety had taken root in my chest, a cold knot that tightened with every passing second. It felt like | was standing on the edge of a cliff | hadn't seen. "| have to go," | said abruptly, pushing her away. | sat up, the silk sheets sliding off my bare chest. | felt a sudden, desperate need to see Emily, to smooth things over, to see her look at me with that old, familiar adoration again. This game with Dallas had gone on long enough. It was starting to feel... out of control. "What?" Dallas pouted, sitting up as well. "Killy, baby, don't go. We were having fun." She wrapped her arms around my waist from behind, pressing herself against my back. | pried her hands off me. "I have work to do," | lied, pulling on ---- my pants. Her pout turned into a full-blown tantrum. "Work? It's the middle of the night! You're going to her, aren't you?" Tears welled up in her eyes, the weapon she wielded with such expert precision. "After everything I've done for you, after how much I've put up with her attitude..." | paused, my hand on the doorknob. Her words, though manipulative, struck a chord. Emily had been difficult lately. The constant arguments, the cold silences, the way she looked at me now, as if | were a stranger. It was exhausting. Dallas must have sensed my hesitation. She changed tactics, her voice becoming soft and understanding. "I get it, Killy. She's been with you a long time. You feel responsible for her." She came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my chest. "Why don't we go see her together? Show her we can all be mature about this." It was a preposterous idea, but my mind was too clouded with this strange sense of impending doom to think clearly. "Fine," | clipped, shrugging her off. "Get dressed." As my driver sped through the night, we passed a taxi heading in the opposite direction, toward the airport. For a fleeting moment, | thought | saw a familiar profile in the backseat, a silhouette of dark hair against the window. But it was gone in a flash, and | dismissed it. | used my key to let myself into the mansion. The house was silent, but that wasn't unusual. What was unusual was the ---- sense of... stillness. It felt less like a home and more like a museum. But when | walked into our bedroom, everything looked the same. Her clothes were still in the closet, her favorite book was on the nightstand, her ridiculously expensive face creams were lined up on the bathroom counter. | let out a breath | didn't realize I'd been holding. See? | told myself. You were overreacting. She's not going anywhere. Where would she go? | had built this world for her. She was a waitress when | met her. Everything she had, she had because of me. She couldn't survive without me. | picked up the silver picture frame from my nightstand. It was a photo of us from three years ago, on the island I' d bought her. We were smiling, tan and happy. Her head was thrown back in laughter, and | was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. Because she was. A faint, uneasy feeling pricked at me again, but | shoved it down. "So this is where the magic happens," Dallas purred, walking into the room. Her eyes, greedy and envious, swept over the expansive space, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the priceless art on the walls. "It's nice. But a little... cold." She ran a hand over the fur throw on the bed. "You know, my family is cutting my allowance again. It's barely enough to cover my Amex bill. It's why | need a man like you, Killy. A man who can take care of me." ---- | frowned. | had never cared for her blatant avarice. Emily had never asked me for anything, not even in the beginning when we had nothing. Dallas had never been a serious contender for Emily's place. She was a diversion. An amusement. | had never considered for a moment that anyone could truly replace Emily. "| wonder where she's run off to this time," Dallas said with a dismissive laugh. "Probably crying at some friend's house. She's so dramatic." The bubble of my self-assurance finally burst. Something was very, very wrong. She wasn't at a friend's house. | knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that she was gone.