Chapter 100: Need for Answers
James entered the study with a measured stride, his face etched with lines of concern that deepened the shadows under his eyes. The room, once a bastion of calculated power, now felt suffocating under the weight of unspoken revelations. Rafael, still seated behind his massive oak desk, looked up sharply, his grey eyes narrowing like storm clouds gathering force. The air was thick with the acrid scent of spilled whiskey, shards of crystal glinting on the floor like fallen stars.
"Sir," James began, his voice steady but laced with gravity, "I’ve started on the footage pulls—they’ll take time. But there’s something else. Urgent."
Rafael looked up, steeling himself. "What?"
"Frank Bennett—Eliana’s father. He’s been transferred out of the private hospital you placed him in. No records, no authorization. Vanished, just like her. No one knows who took him."
Rafael’s world tilted, disbelief crashing over him like a wave. "What? That’s impossible. I secured that place myself. Guards, protocols—"
James held up a hand, his voice grave. "I couldn’t believe it either, sir. But there’s more news. Not only has Frank Bennett vanished from the hospital, but his entire file—medical records, admission logs, even the billing statements—has been scrubbed clean. It’s as if he never set foot in that facility. Whoever did this wanted to erase any trace of his existence there."
Rafael’s hands clenched into fists on the desk, the knuckles paling like bone under taut skin. He leaned forward, his chiseled jaw tightening as disbelief crashed over him like a rogue wave. "Erased? James, that’s impossible. My friend handpicked that hospital himself—top-tier security, encrypted systems, guards at every entrance. Who the hell could pull this off? And why go to such lengths?"
James nodded solemnly, stepping closer and lowering his voice as if the walls themselves might betray them. "Exactly, sir. It’s professional work. No amateur hacker could manage this without leaving digital footprints. Someone with resources, connections—perhaps even inside access."
Rafael’s mind raced, fragments of suspicion swirling like debris in a tornado. He pushed back from the desk, standing abruptly, pacing the room with the restless energy of a caged predator. His dark wavy hair fell into his eyes, and he raked it back with a frustrated hand. "Who could be backing her, James? Eliana... she was alone in this world. No family, no allies—just her sickly father and that quiet resilience of hers. I gave her everything: a job, security, even hope for her old man. And now this? It doesn’t add up."
James watched his employer carefully, his own expression a mask of unwavering loyalty. "Sir, if I may... you’ve always been cautious. Perhaps Mirabel’s involved. She’s got the pull in high places—board members, lawyers, tech experts on retainer. She could orchestrate something like this to cover her tracks."
Rafael stopped pacing, turning to face James with a haunted gaze. The room’s dim lamplight cast dramatic shadows across his handsome features, highlighting the torment etched there. "Mirabel? Taking Frank? But why the erasure, James? Why go through the hassle of wiping him from the system? If she’s pulling the strings, she’d want leverage, not oblivion. Unless... unless it’s to cut Eliana off from me completely, make me desperate in finding her while they continue spinning whatever web she’s creating. God, what if this is all part of some larger game? Eliana as the pawn, Mirabel as the queen."
James opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his phone erupted in a sharp ringtone that sliced through the tension like a knife. He glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing. "It’s my contact—the one handling the CCTV pulls. Excuse me, sir."
Rafael waved a hand impatiently, sinking back into his chair as James answered the call, putting it on speaker for transparency. The voice on the other end was gruff, laced with the weariness of a man who’d spent too many nights staring at screens in dimly lit rooms.
"James, you bastard, this better be worth it," the man grumbled, his tone a mix of exasperation and reluctant camaraderie. "You have no idea the hoops I jumped through for this. Hacking into city grids, dodging firewalls—hell, I had to call in favors from guys I haven’t spoken to since the old days. You owe me big time. Dinner at that steakhouse downtown, and don’t skimp on the wine."
James allowed a faint, dry smile to tug at his lips, a rare crack in his stoic facade. "Noted, Elliott. You’ll get your feast. Now, what do you have? Did you find the footage?"
Elliott chuckled, the sound rough like gravel under tires. "Oh, I found it alright. Gold mine, my friend. Sent it to your secure email—two clips, crystal clear. First one’s from a residential cam a few blocks from the mansion. Shows your girl waiting on the roadside, barefoot like she bolted in a hurry. Got her box with her, looking all lost and vulnerable. Hails a cab, heads to some hole-in-the-wall coffee shop downtown."
Rafael’s heart twisted at the description, a pang of unwanted empathy piercing his armor of rage. He leaned forward, his voice cutting in sharply. "And the second clip? What happens next?"
There was a pause on the line, Elliott’s surprise evident. "Who’s that? The boss man himself? Alright, alright—second one’s from the shop’s exterior feed. Black SUV pulls up, sleek model, tinted windows. Guy gets out—tall, sharp-dressed, looks like he knows his way around a gym. Takes her box like it’s no big deal, opens the door for her. She slides in without a fuss, like she’s known him forever. No struggle, no hesitation. Sent the files over. Now, about that steak—"
James interrupted smoothly, his tone firm. "Appreciated, Elliott. We’ll settle up soon." He ended the call and immediately pulled up his email on a tablet, his fingers flying across the screen. "Here, sir. Let me play them for you."
The first video flickered to life on the tablet’s high-definition display, the timestamp glowing in the corner: just hours after Eliana’s abrupt departure. The camera angle was from a neighbor’s security system, overlooking a quiet, tree-lined street bathed in the soft glow of streetlamps. There she was—Eliana, slender and ethereal in the morning light, her warm brown skin illuminated faintly as she stood barefoot on the cool pavement. Her hair hidden inside a hoody, she looked rough from her hasty escape. She clutched a battered box to her chest, her expressive eyes darting nervously, full lips pressed into a thin line of determination mixed with fear. Her modest cloths, worn and slightly rumpled, fluttered in the evening breeze, accentuating her natural elegance even in distress.
Rafael’s breath caught, his piercing eyes fixed on the screen as if he could will her back through sheer force. "Look at her, James," he murmured, his voice thick with a cocktail of anger and aching longing. "Barefoot, alone... what was she thinking? Running like that. Why did she feel the need to run if she hadn’t done something wrong."
The video continued: Eliana raised a trembling hand, hailing a passing cab with a wave that spoke of quiet desperation. The yellow taxi slowed, its brakes squeaking softly, and she climbed in, the door slamming with a finality that echoed in Rafael’s chest. The cab pulled away, vanishing into the urban sprawl.
James swiped to the next clip without a word, the scene shifting to the front of a quaint coffee shop, its neon sign buzzing faintly: "Brew Haven." The black SUV rolled up smoothly, its polished exterior reflecting the shop’s warm lights like a dark mirror. The door opened, and out stepped a man—tall, with an athletic grace, sharp features softened by warm eyes that scanned the area with quiet vigilance. His handsome face held a reserved kindness, his attire casual yet expensive: a fitted jacket over a crisp shirt, exuding the subtle confidence of someone from wealth.
He approached Eliana, who emerged from the shop’s shadows, her box in hand. She looked up at him, and in that moment, her face softened—recognition, trust, perhaps even relief washing over her features. The man took the box effortlessly, his movements gentle, almost protective, then held the car door open with a nod. Eliana hesitated for a split second, her honey-brown eyes flickering with unspoken emotions, before sliding into the passenger seat. The door closed with a soft thud, and the SUV glided away into the night.
Rafael slammed a fist on the desk, the impact rattling the remaining items. "Damn it! The plate—it’s obscured. Angle’s all wrong, shadows hiding it. Who is he, James? She looked... comfortable with him. Like he was no stranger."
James set the tablet down carefully, his voice calm amid the storm. "I noticed that too, sir. No fear in her posture. I’ll dig deeper—run facial recognition through our databases, check traffic cams for better angles. We’ll find out who he is, and what his connection to her is."
Rafael rose again, his athletic build tense, every muscle coiled with frustration. He turned to the window, staring out at the sprawling estate grounds shrouded in darkness, the manicured lawns mocking his inner chaos. "Do it, James. Spare no resource. I need answers—yesterday. But God help me, I don’t want to believe it. Eliana... betraying me on every level? Playing with my feelings like some game? After everything—the way she looked at me, the softness in her touch... was it all a lie?"
James placed a reassuring hand on Rafael’s shoulder, a brief gesture of solidarity. "We’ll uncover the truth, sir. One way or another."
Rafael nodded, his voice dropping to a whisper laced with raw vulnerability. "Make it fast. Because if she’s innocent... if this is all some twisted misunderstanding... I don’t know if I can forgive myself for doubting her."
The study fell silent once more, the weight of unspoken fears hanging heavy, as the two men plotted their next move in the shadows of betrayal.