Chapter 6

Brandon's POV

7:00 AM, the Vance mansion.

Normally by this hour, Nina would have been busy in the open kitchen on the first floor. Because Evelyn suffered from mild gastritis, Nina had made it a point for ten years to wake up early and hand-cook an oatmeal congee, meticulously adjusting the temperature until it was perfectly palatable.

Today, however, the kitchen was dead cold.

"Where is Nina? What time does she think it is, not making breakfast? Does she really think she's a victim who needs the whole family begging her?" Evelyn descended the stairs in her silk robe, her face pinched with impatience.

A maid rushed down from the upstairs hallway, clutching a dust rag, her face pale. "Ma'am! Bad news... Miss Nina's room is completely empty!"

"What do you mean, empty?" Evelyn stopped dead.

"I mean... Miss Nina's clothes, her luggage—everything is gone! Even her toothbrush is missing!"

Evelyn shoved past the maid and hurried up to the guest room at the end of the hall, throwing the door open.

The room remained in the state Chloe had left it the night before, closet doors wide open. But every single cheap outfit belonging to Nina was gone. The bed was stripped and bare, ice-cold to the touch. Most glaring of all was the desk—the framed engagement photo that Nina had treasured and wiped down daily lay facedown, discarded like garbage.

Evelyn scoffed stubbornly, "So she thinks she can run away? She's a penniless orphan! Where could she possibly go? Leave her alone. Once she starves out on the streets, she'll crawl back begging for forgiveness!"

The maid dialed my number to report what had just happened at the Vance house.

At that moment, I was on the top floor of the Hayes Tower in the heart of the Manhattan financial district.

When the maid relayed the news, I barely paid attention.

Sitting in my high-backed executive chair, I was listening to my assistant's morning briefing. Suddenly, my personal phone buzzed on the blotter with a new notification.

I glanced down, and my breath caught in my throat.

The sender was Nina.

*Brandon Hayes: The engagement is terminated, effective immediately. Formal documentation and the return of gifts will be handled by my legal counsel. Do not contact me again.*

Brief. Clinical. No accusations, no tears, no dramatic tantrums. She had written it like an ordinary corporate cancellation notice.

My pupils contracted, my heart seized as if gripped by an iron claw. I grabbed the phone and dialed back instantly, only to be met with the flat, mechanical automated operator: *The number you are calling has blocked you.*

"Unbelievable!" I slammed the phone onto the heavy desk with a deafening crack. My assistant flinched violently, clamping his mouth shut in terror.

I yanked at my tie, pacing to the floor-to-ceiling windows in a storm of irritation. In my eyes, Nina was throwing a childish tantrum. Just because I didn't announce our wedding date at the gala? Because I wiped wine off Chloe's hand? When had she become so petty?

Did she really think playing hard-to-get would force my hand? Cheap tricks like this only made her look pathetic.

Half an hour later, Julian Vance’s car and mine pulled into the Vance driveway at the same time.

The three of us gathered in the living room under an oppressive, suffocating atmosphere. Chloe sat tucked in the corner of the sofa, wringing her sweater hem, wearing her trademark fragile expression.

"Julian, did she block your number too? Has she lost her mind?!" Evelyn’s face was green with anger.

I slumped into a single armchair, radiating a dangerous, volatile pressure. "She texted me to break off our engagement. Mrs. Vance, what did you people do to her last night?"

"What could we possibly have done to her?! She made a mistake and couldn't stand Chloe!" Evelyn fired back defensively, though her eyes darted away.

Julian rubbed his temples in frustration. "Now isn't the time for pointing fingers. We need to locate her first. I've already dispatched men to pull the surveillance footage from the transit stations and airports—"

Right then, the eighty-four-inch television playing quietly in the corner suddenly cut its morning entertainment broadcast. A stark red breaking news banner flashed across the screen.

*We interrupt this broadcast with breaking news. The apex titan of Wall Street and global commerce, the Hayes Group, issued an emergency bulletin earlier this morning. The sole legitimate heiress of the Hayes dynasty, missing for fifteen years, was officially recovered late last night! The Hayes family will hold an international press conference at Hayes Tower in thirty minutes to officially present their grand heiress to the public...*

The news anchor’s voice was electric with shock.

The living room froze as if struck by lightning. The Hayes heiress? That was the true royal bloodline of New York high society. Missing for fifteen years, and suddenly found?!

The live broadcast cut to the plaza outside Hayes Tower, where hundreds of journalists from around the globe were swarming like locusts. For a split second, the broadcast camera caught a glimpse of a figure standing behind the glass of the second-floor VIP suite.

It was a young woman in a sharply tailored black power suit. Even though it was merely a fleeting, blurred silhouette from the side, she radiated an aura of unshakeable nobility and cold command.

*Smash.*

The crystal tumbler in Julian’s hand slipped, shattering against the marble table, water splashing everywhere.

My eyes glued onto that fleeting silhouette on the screen, every drop of color draining from my face until I was as pale as a corpse.

Julian’s lips trembled uncontrollably, a strangled gasp tearing from his throat.

"Julian, what's wrong with you?" Evelyn shrieked, startled.

"That silhouette..." Julian’s voice shook violently as he whipped his head toward me, his eyes wide with raw, unfathomable horror. "Brandon... that woman... doesn't she look... doesn't she look exactly like Nina?!"

I stared at the screen, my knuckles turning bone-white as I gripped the armrest so hard the leather cracked.