Richard's POV
The ringing from inside doesn't dissipate my concern. My face is still etched and furrowed with concern.
Since last night, that ringing has been going on and off. I can't even figure out if it is her phone or an alarm clock.
No one has come out of the apartment, either. Not Daisy. Not her. I also can't hear any sounds, no matter how hard I place my ears on the door.
My insides are in disarray. A horrible feeling is stirring inside of me, as though something is wrong or about to happen.
It's been two days since we went out, and I haven't set my eyes on her. The fact that the ringing is becoming more persistent and nonstop increases my curiosity.
That guy—I don't trust him. He was here two nights ago. They must have had an argument, and it makes me wonder what he did to her.
If she isn't in, then where is she?
Frustrated, I stalk back inside, hurrying to grab my phone. I dial her number and wait till it begins to ring. A part of me is relieved that her phone is going through, at least.
It stops ringing, and I try again, watching with dread as it goes to voicemail.
I keep calling until I've called five different times before dialing another number.
Leo’s.
If there is anyone to find her, then it is him. When she left seven years ago, the real reason we couldn't find her anywhere around the world was because she changed her identity.
It never crossed my or my mother's mind.
We were all searching for Arabel Cooper. It never occurred to us that she was going to change that name and be an entirely different person.
Finding her by that name was like searching for someone who had just disappeared into thin air.
Leo was able to track her movement from my home to the airport, but after that, we couldn't find anything else on her.
She was wise enough to do that. If she hadn't, perhaps we would have gone past this stage, and I would have been forgiven and given a chance to be in my child's life.
It showed just how much she had endured. Just how hurt she was and how disappointed she was by me. She was resolute in her decision to never associate with me again.
However, fate played a fast trick on us both. Despite the unexpected turn of events, I am confident that she will make every effort to escape once more, but I refuse to allow it.
This time, I will find her. I will beg her. I will do all it takes to seek her forgiveness. If that makes her feel better, I will let her hit me. I will promise to be a better man. I will do anything.
“Hi, boss,” Leo's voice breaks into my thoughts, easing the frown on my face.
“Find Bella Portillo. I want to know if she is still here in New York or back in London. A ringing sound keeps coming from her apartment, and no one is answering the door. Track her phone or do anything to give me answers ASAP.”
“Sure, boss.”
I don't need more elaboration. He knows who Bella Portillo is.
Since she returned to New York, he has been on her trail. As soon as I found evidence that she was indeed my ex-wife, I stopped him from being on her trail.
Now, I am beginning to regret it. For a moment, I'm thinking about hiring a secret bodyguard for her.
I don't trust that guy.
He likes her, and I am sure he will do anything to have her, even if it means exerting force. I promise that if anything happens to her and it traces back to him, he will rot in jail.
Arrogant jerk!
I wonder where Arabel knows him and how they met.
I tap my foot impatiently, striding to the sofa to sit on.
When I remembered how I saw them both acting lovey-dovey some months ago when he dropped her off at the company, I thought he was her husband, boyfriend, or lover. I was filled with jealousy.
But now, it is evident they are not together, and that is exactly what he wants. Before I lose another opportunity to make things right, isn't it better I come out clean without waiting for her to do so first?
Apparently, Arabel will never reveal her identity. She'd never give me the satisfaction of watching her change the narratives about her real identity. She would rather keep up with the pretense till our contract expires, and then she will disappear again.
I won't let that happen.
I pick up my phone again, ignoring the trembling in my hand. I am not patient enough to wait for his call; I should call Leo again.
Before I can dial his number, his call comes in. I pick it immediately.
“Bella Portillo is not in New York,” he announces as I lean forward with eagerness.
“Ok. So she is back in London, right?” I demand, knowing full well that is where she will be. Her home is in London. If she isn't here, she must be there.
“No,” Leo mutters after a moment of hesitation.
“What? What do you mean she is not in London?!” I almost scream in frustration, my mind racing with wild imaginations.
If she isn't in New York or London, does it mean that the jerk took her away against her will? What about Daisy?
“She is not in London, boss,” he repeats.
“Then find her!” I snap in anger, shooting to my feet at the unsettling feeling in my heart.
Leo is a professional. I know he will find her.
When he couldn't find her for years, I assumed he was unprofessional and hired someone else. It was still the same. They couldn't find her.
When I saw her at the company's anniversary that morning, disguising herself under a different name, it occurred to me that I underrated Leo.
I sit down again, the regret of a thousand missed opportunities trickling through my veins.
Frustration chafed at my skin as I stare at my phone with my jaws clenched.
Finally, it rings again, and I pick it instantly.
“Leo, where is she?”
“Germany.”
“What, Germany? What the hell is she doing there?!” I ask in frustration, knowing full well that he is not the right person to ask.
The only person who can answer that question is Arabel, and I hope this has nothing to do with Alex.
“Thank you, Leo,” I mutter derisively before disconnecting the call and dialing a number on my favorite list.
Mother.
I walk to my bedroom, my phone glued to my ears, mentally noting that I should also call Ashley.
“I was just about to call you…”
“Mom?” I cut her short. Whatever it is she wants to call me for, this is more important. “Arabel is in Germany.”
What I receive from the other end is complete silence. I stop walking and furrow my brows, taking the phone away to see if the call is still connected.
“I hope you are already on a plane,” she says, her tone a bit loud and harsh.
A smile forms on my lips as I reply back with confidence. “I will be on a plane in thirty minutes.”