The house was unusually quiet that morning, a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the past week. Milan was sitting in the kitchen, sipping his coffee as he scrolled through his phone. The damage control from the latest warehouse raid was nearly complete, and he finally felt like they were getting ahead of Vivienne’s attacks. He looked up when Enzo walked in, his phone to his ear.
“Everything’s in place,” Enzo said, hanging up and giving Milan a nod. “Shipment secured. No issues so far.”
Milan grunted in approval. “Good. That’s one less thing to worry about.”
He glanced at the clock. It was early, but Jade was usually up by now. Milan had spent the night mulling over her frustration and decided it was time to ease up. She needed a break, and as much as he hated taking any risks, he figured letting her go to the beach with Enzo and Thiago tomorrow would show her they weren’t trying to control her.
“I’ll go tell Jade about tomorrow,” Milan said, standing up. He left the kitchen and headed upstairs, his footsteps steady as he approached her room. He raised a hand to knock, but paused when he noticed the door was slightly ajar. Frowning, he pushed it open.
The room was empty. Her bed was neatly made, and her phone wasn’t on the nightstand where it usually sat. A small, nagging feeling of unease crept over him. He checked the bathroom—empty. He called her name, his voice echoing through the house, but there was no response.
Milan’s eyes narrowed, and his stomach dropped. “Enzo! Thiago!” he bellowed, storming back downstairs.
Thiago appeared from the study, a look of concern on his face. “What’s with the shouting?”
“Jade’s gone,” Milan said, his tone cold and sharp.
Enzo straightened from where he was leaning against the kitchen counter. “Gone? What do you mean, gone?”
“Her room’s empty. She’s not answering, and her phone isn’t here,” Milan snapped, running a hand through his hair. “She’s gone.”
Thiago frowned, exchanging a glance with Enzo. “You sure she didn’t just step out to the garden or something?”
Milan’s glare could have cut through steel. “She didn’t just step out. She escaped.”
Enzo’s phone buzzed, and he grabbed it quickly, his jaw tightening as he read the message. “She left a note,” he said grimly, holding up his phone.
Milan snatched it from his hand, reading the short, hastily typed message: I’m fine. I needed a break. Don’t come looking for me.
The words felt like a slap to the face. Milan’s lips curled into a snarl as he cursed under his breath. “Dio mio… What was she thinking?”
“She was thinking we’ve been locking her up for a week,” Thiago said, though his tone was edged with frustration. “She’s been dying to go out, and we kept saying no.”
Milan turned on him, his eyes blazing. “And you think this is acceptable? That she just leaves without a word to anyone, while Vivienne’s out there, waiting for an opportunity?”
Thiago held up his hands. “I didn’t say it was smart. I’m just saying she’s been climbing the walls, man. You knew this was coming.”
Milan cursed again, this time switching languages. His string of expletives flowed seamlessly from Italian to Russian to French, his frustration boiling over. Enzo raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed despite the tension in the room.
“Well, at least we know he’s multilingual,” Thiago muttered, earning a glare from Milan.
“Where could she have gone?” Milan demanded, pacing the room.