**Chapter 50: Missing** **Rowan** I’m a coward. No other way to put it. Two damn months have slipped by, yet I still can’t summon the courage to confront Ava, to even whisper a word to her. What could I say? What could I possibly tell the woman I once accused of deception, only to discover, too late, that she was never at fault? The shame weighs heavy on my chest. I’m ashamed of the heartache I caused her, ashamed that I let her shoulder the blame all alone. I stand by, motionless, as others mistreated her, convinced in my ignorance that she deserved it. Now, faced with these realities, I find myself paralyzed. How could I ever meet her gaze again? How could I offer an apology when the very concept feels foreign? I’ve prided myself on being infallible, always in the right—except when it comes to Ava. I take a sip of whiskey, trying to drown this guilt swirling inside of me. For just a moment, that amber liquid gives me solace, allowing me to pretend that my world hasn't been turned upside down by the truth. “Sir, Mr. Sharp is here to see you. He looks somewhat distressed,” my housekeeper’s voice breaks through my fog of self-pity. “Let him in,” I respond curtly, turning away as I hear the door open. The truth had surfaced like a tidal wave. Gabe, unable to hold back any longer, shared the evidence with everyone. Both families now know that Ava had been honest—she truly was drunk when everything fell apart. Guilt rippled through everyone, save for Emma. She clings to her grudges, convinced that Ava’s actions are unforgivable, a betrayal that trumps all. My relationship with Emma remains a minefield, with her relentless pushing only sending me further away. It’s as if something inside me is twisted and broken, preventing me from embracing the future I thought I wanted with her. When Travis steps into my office, his distress is palpable. “What’s going on?” I inquire, noticing his discomfort. “I don’t know, but I need your help.” He runs a hand through his hair, his panic palpable. “I’m freaking out.” I rise from my desk and settle on the edge, pouring a glass of whiskey for him. “Calm down, and tell me what happened.” He takes a deep breath, anxiety shadowing his features. “I just got an unexpected call from Ava. But right before she could say anything, I heard a scream, then silence. I tried calling back, but she didn’t answer. I reached out to Letty, since they were together, but I can’t reach her either. It’s been almost two hours!” My heart races at his words. Ava wouldn’t reach out to Travis unless something was very wrong. “Do you know where they went?” I ask, my fingers wrapping tightly around my phone. “No. Letty didn’t tell me.” I hit dial on Drake’s number, my mind racing. He answers on the first ring. “Get me the location of Ava’s car.” “On it.” The line clicks dead, and I focus my thoughts, praying for good news. Unbeknownst to her, I’d placed a tracker on her car—an invasive measure, perhaps, but I just had to keep her safe, especially after she insisted on dismissing her security details. A few tense moments pass before I receive the location. It’s parked near one of my clubs. “Let’s go,” I say, determination coursing through me as Travis and I rush out the door. Within minutes, we arrive. The club’s pulsing music hits us like a wall as we step inside. I show a bartender a photo of Ava and Letty, and he nods, guiding us to the private booth they chose. “Both their purses are still here, along with Letty’s phone,” Travis notes, rummaging through Letty’s bag. “Have you seen them since they arrived?” I ask the bartender, narrowing my eyes. “No,” he replies, the urgency evident in his voice. “They ordered drinks, chatted for a bit, and then the girl with black hair stood up, went to the bathroom, and then left. The brunette followed shortly after. They never came back.” Fury ignites within me, twisting my insides. “You didn’t think to check on them?” I roar, forcing the bartender against the wall. He gasps in fear, wide-eyed. “I didn’t notice! It’s been so busy today, I swear!” “What the hell is going on here?” My manager, Francis, strides toward us, confusion etched on his face. I turn to him, exasperated. “What kind of idiots are you hiring, Francis?” “Wh—what do you mean, Mr. Woods?” he stutters, going pale as he realizes the gravity of the situation. “Explain to him, Travis,” I snap, pacing as my mind spirals into chaos. “I can’t be responsible for the explosion I’m about to create if I have to spell it out for him myself.” As Travis explains, I watch Francis’s expression morph into one of horror. “You said they both went outside?” I whirl back to the bartender. He nods, trembling. “Get me the CCTV footage,” I order, bolts of urgency coursing through me as I exit through the back door. Outside, I scan for any sign of them, but the shadows yield no clues. Frustrated, I kick something beneath my foot. Looking down, I see it: a phone. Not just any phone, but Ava’s—the same one I’d gifted her. Just then, Travis emerges with a tablet. “You have to see this,” he urges, urgency etched across his features. As the video plays, dread washes over me. Ava appears, emerging from the club, only to be struck by a man who subsequently hauls her unconscious body into a getaway car. Panic grips me tighter—Ava has been kidnapped! But what about Letty? “At least we got a clear view of the bastard’s face and the car’s registration number,” Travis says, trying to inject a note of hope. Ignoring him, I dial Gabe’s number, knowing he’s got the resources we need. “I need you to track someone down for me,” I instruct, relaying the details and sending over the video footage. “Don’t worry, Ava. I’m coming for you,” I whisper under my breath, the weight of my promise echoing in my chest.