17
The villa was unusually quiet that morning. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, but it couldn't fully dispel the tension that still lingered in the air. Adrian sat at his desk, documents spread across the polished surface, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the wood. Elena hovered beside him, notebook in hand, her eyes scanning reports, photos, and security footage from the past days.
Emma was in the living room, quietly drawing, though even she seemed subdued, as if sensing the heaviness lingering between her parents.
Adrian exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Every piece… every single piece has to make sense. There are gaps in Vincent's plan I can't ignore. Why now? Why the sudden escalation?"
Elena leaned over the desk, pointing at a series of surveillance images. "Look here—these images were from three nights before Emma was taken. See the van parked near the park? It wasn't there randomly. Vincent's men were watching, waiting for the right moment."
