Chapter 8
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Ella slowly but gently could feel her body.
But before she could even try to open her eyes, memories rushed into her head.
Henry's voice.
"Ella… please excuse us."
She remembered the way she forced a smile… even though it hurt.
She remembered walking away, pretending everything was fine.
"I need some fresh air…"
She had whispered that to herself.
The quiet hallway.
Her heels echoing softly.
Then the terrace.
Cold.
Empty.
Too quiet.
"Is someone there?"
No response.
Then suddenly—
A cloth covered her nose.
Her eyes widened.
She struggled.
She tried to scream—
"Henry!"
Her body weakened.
Her earrings slipped from her ears… falling to the ground.
Her legs gave out.
Everything went black.
Then—
Cold.
A sharp chill ran down her spine.
That was when Ella finally opened her eyes.
"Is she awake now?" a woman in her late thirties said.
Ella could not see her clearly at first. Her eyes slowly moved around the whole area.
She could feel the breeze.
Then suddenly, a huge light illuminated from behind.
Ella looked back.
Her eyes widened.
A huge lightbox.
Her sister's face.
She remembered—her elder sister was an ambassador of Rose Luxury.
One of her brows raised slightly.
"What is that thing doing here…?"
Then her eyes slowly moved downward.
She froze.
Dozens of cars moved at the same time.
The streets were filled with light.
It felt like her spirit had left her body as sweat began to roll down her face.
The sudden cold returned.
Then Ella screamed at the top of her voice.
The woman walked toward her.
Her face alone was enough to tell anyone she was here for business.
Her dark lips didn't match the cold aura she carried.
Ella didn't need her to say anything before she kept quiet instantly.
That was when she noticed them.
About sixteen huge men in black tuxedos and glasses stood at every corner of the terrace.
Each one holding a gun.
Ella gently gulped and forced a small smile.
"Hi… I think you kidnapped the wrong person."
She tried to move her body.
That was when she realized—
She was tied.
Her hands.
Her legs.
Even her waist.
She froze.
The chair moved slightly.
Wheels.
Ella didn't dare move again.
Behind her—
Nothing.
No support.
Just empty air.
They were at the top of a ten-story building.
Any small movement—
She would fall.
Her hands began to sweat badly.
Her heart raced wildly.
The woman said nothing. She only whispered something to one of the men in a tuxedo.
He nodded, then sent Ella a cold stare.
Ella felt heat rise in her body despite the cold wind.
She didn't say another word.
One rule she had been taught while growing up in a high-reputed family—
If you are ever kidnapped, never annoy them.
Stay calm.
Breathe carefully.
Immediately she tried to inhale.
But her eyes landed on the guns in their hands.
Her heartbeat sped up even more.
It felt like it wanted to escape her chest.
Her thoughts became completely confused.
She couldn't think straight.
Only one thing filled her mind—
Fear.
One of the men brought a file.
The scary-looking lady with a dark aura opened it and searched through it in less than a minute.
Then her eyes lowered to Ella.
Ella looked back, mustering all the courage in herself. She was definitely not ready to leave this earth.
"Are you Ella Henry's new girlfriend?"
Although Ella knew what she said, she still looked confused.
"Hm?"
The woman's face turned dead serious.
"Don't make me repeat myself."
Ella gave a wary smile.
"Emm… no… I… I mean yes."
She swallowed hard.
Is it because of Henry that these people kidnapped me?
Ella thought as she sighed.
"What a way to end a horrible night… being kidnapped because of the guy who asked his girlfriend to walk away so he could speak to his ex," she mumbled under her breath.
(Meanwhile – Henry's POV)
Henry looked into Xendaire's eyes, his gaze lowering slightly.
"So why do you want to speak with me?"
Xendaire exhaled softly, as if she had been holding it in for a long time. Her fingers tightened slightly around the glass in her hand.
"I'll be honest," she said. "I didn't come here for the ball."
Henry said nothing.
"I came… because of you."
His expression didn't change.
"I've had time to think, Henry," she continued, her voice softer now. "About everything. About us."
She paused.
"I was wrong."
That made his brows shift slightly.
"I shouldn't have left the way I did. I shouldn't have treated you like that." Her voice trembled just a little, but she kept her composure. "And I'm sorry."
Henry remained silent, his face unreadable.
"I've forgiven you too," she added quickly. "For everything that happened between us."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"I want us to try again," she said, stepping a little closer. "We were good together. We still can be."
Silence.
Heavy.
Then—
"I can't."
The words were simple.
Cold.
Final.
Xendaire froze.
"…What?"
"I've moved on."
Her eyes hardened instantly.
"To her?" she asked, her voice sharper now.
Henry didn't answer.
But his silence was enough.
A small, bitter laugh escaped her lips.
"You're choosing a girl you barely know… over me?"
Before he could respond—
Something felt wrong.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
Just a slight shift in the air.
Henry's eyes instinctively turned.
He looked toward where Ella had been standing earlier.
She wasn't there.
His brows furrowed.
He scanned the hall again.
More carefully this time.
Nothing.
"…Henry?" Xendaire called, irritation creeping into her voice.
He didn't respond.
His chest tightened slightly.
"She wouldn't just leave…" he muttered under his breath.
He looked again.
Guests were laughing.
Dancing.
Everything looked normal.
But it didn't feel normal.
"Have you seen Ella?" he asked suddenly.
Xendaire frowned.
"No. And why does it matter right now? I'm talking to you."
Henry's hand moved to his collar, adjusting it slightly. His breathing wasn't as steady anymore.
Something was off.
"I need to check something."
Xendaire's expression darkened.
"Are you serious right now?" she said, her voice rising slightly. "I'm apologizing to you and you're worried about her?"
He didn't answer.
And that silence angered her more.
"This is unbelievable."
But Henry had already stepped away.
The moment he entered the crowd, his composure began to crack.
His eyes moved quickly.
From face to face.
Searching.
Nothing.
He pulled out his phone.
Dialed.
No answer.
His jaw tightened.
He called again.
Still nothing.
That uneasy feeling in his chest grew stronger.
This wasn't like her.
Not after everything tonight.
Then—
He made another call.
The line connected instantly.
"Yes, sir."
"Where are you?" Henry asked, his voice lower now.
"Outside, sir."
"Good. I want every exit sealed. No one leaves."
There was a brief pause.
"…Sir?"
"I said now."
"Yes, sir."
He ended the call.
His grip on his phone tightened.
Outside, the cool night air hit him, but it did nothing to calm him.
His men were already moving.
Black tuxedos blending into the shadows.
"Search everywhere," Henry ordered. "Every corner. Don't miss anything."
"Yes, sir."
They spread out immediately.
Henry ran a hand through his hair, his movements sharper now. His shirt felt tighter, suffocating almost. He adjusted it again unconsciously.
His eyes scanned the surroundings.
Then—
They stopped.
The veranda.
Far from the ballroom.
Too far.
His brows furrowed.
Why would she go there?
It didn't make sense.
That area was quiet.
Isolated.
He didn't like it.
"…Check there," he said at first.
But his eyes didn't leave that direction.
Something about it felt wrong.
Very wrong.
A second passed.
Then another.
His jaw tightened.
"No… I'll go."
The further he walked, the quieter it became.
The music faded behind him.
The lights grew dimmer.
His steps slowed.
"Ella?" he called.
No response.
His chest tightened even more.
He kept moving forward.
Then—
He stopped.
Something caught his eye.
On the ground.
Small.
Shimmering under the faint light.
Henry frowned and bent down slowly.
His fingers picked it up.
An earring.
Silver.
Delicate.
His breath stilled.
A memory flashed in his mind—
The school hall.
Ella standing there.
From head to toe—stunning.
Her dress fitting perfectly, her posture soft yet confident.
Her dark hair falling gently over her shoulders.
And those earrings—
Catching the light every time she moved.
Simple.
But impossible to ignore.
Beautiful.
Just like her.
Henry's grip tightened slightly around it.
His brows drew together, his expression darkening.
His voice dropped—
Low.
Controlled.
But dangerous.
"…Is this not Ella's?"
AUTHORS NOTE:
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