CHAPTER 2: THEY DIDN'T WANT THE PHONE... THEY WANTED THE WITNESS
The doorknob turned one slow click at a time.
Emily's heart slammed against her ribs so violently she thought whoever stood outside could hear it.
She instinctively backed away, clutching her phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
Another click.
The metal handle lowered completely.
The service room door burst open.
Three men in black suits stormed inside.
Not hotel security.
Not police.
Private security.
Each wore a tiny silver eagle pin on the lapel of his jacket.
Emily had noticed the same pin earlier on the men standing behind Marcus Blackwell during the ceremony.
Blackwell Security.
The most elite private protection team money could buy.
The tallest guard scanned the room in less than a second.
"She's gone."
Emily held her breath.
She was hidden behind a towering rolling rack stacked with freshly pressed tablecloths, squeezed into a narrow gap between the wall and dozens of hanging white linens.
One cough.
One shuffle.
One vibrating phone.
Any of those would end everything.
Another guard crouched near the floor.
"Emergency exit."
The steel door behind the room swayed ever so slightly.
"She escaped this way."
Without another word, the three men sprinted out.
Emily waited.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Twenty.
Still nothing.
Only then did she dare inhale.
Her lungs burned from holding her breath.
She slowly slid out from behind the linen rack.
"They're searching every exit..."
"They're not giving up."
She glanced at the emergency door.
Outside lay a maze of service corridors connecting the luxury hotel to the underground parking garage.
If she reached the street...
Maybe she could disappear.
Maybe.
Her phone buzzed again.
This time it wasn't a notification.
An unknown number.
Emily stared at the screen.
No caller ID.
No location.
She almost ignored it.
Instead...
She answered.
"...Hello?"
Silence.
Then a calm male voice.
"Do not run to the parking garage."
Emily froze.
"What?"
"They're waiting there."
Her blood turned to ice.
"Who is this?"
"You have exactly four minutes."
"Who are you?"
"They don't know about the backup."
Emily frowned.
"What backup?"
The man paused.
"The automatic cloud upload."
Emily's eyes widened.
Cloud upload?
She looked down at her phone.
Earlier that morning she'd enabled automatic synchronization after running out of storage.
She had completely forgotten.
The mysterious caller continued.
"If they destroy your phone..."
"...the video still exists."
Emily's knees nearly gave out.
"So..."
"They can't erase it?"
"They don't know that."
The line went silent.
"Listen carefully."
"Someone inside this building is helping Isabella."
"Trust no one wearing a hotel badge."
Click.
The call ended.
Emily stared at the blank screen.
How did he know?
Who was he?
And why was he helping her?
Questions raced through her mind.
None mattered right now.
She hurried through the emergency exit.
The concrete stairwell echoed with distant footsteps.
Voices drifted from above.
"They're checking the elevators!"
"Seal the loading dock!"
Emily descended three flights.
Every step felt louder than the last.
At the bottom...
She pushed open another steel door.
The underground service tunnel stretched ahead.
Dim fluorescent lights flickered overhead.
Laundry carts.
Food deliveries.
Industrial freezers.
Nobody in sight.
She started running.
Halfway down the corridor...
Someone grabbed her arm.
Emily screamed.
A rough hand yanked her into a storage closet.
The door slammed shut.
She spun around, ready to fight.
Instead...
She found herself staring into Marcus Blackwell's eyes.
The billionaire groom pressed one finger against his lips.
"Quiet."
Emily couldn't believe it.
"You..."
"They're looking for you."
"No kidding!"
Marcus ignored the sarcasm.
"Show me the phone."
Emily stepped backward.
"No."
"I said..."
"No."
Marcus sighed.
"I don't have time for this."
"You think I'm giving you the only evidence I have?"
"I don't want to destroy it."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I expect nothing."
He looked exhausted.
Not angry.
Not frightened.
Broken.
He rubbed a hand across his face before speaking again.
"I know Isabella."
Emily laughed bitterly.
"No."
"You know the woman she pretends to be."
Marcus looked away.
His silence said everything.
Emily frowned.
"You knew."
"I suspected."
"You married her anyway?"
His jaw tightened.
"There were reasons."
"What reasons are worth marrying a monster?"
Marcus looked directly at her.
"My six-year-old sister."
Emily blinked.
"What?"
"They kidnapped her three months ago."
The words landed like a hammer.
Marcus continued quietly.
"Every ransom demand came from anonymous accounts."
"No money."
"Only one instruction."
"Marry Isabella."
Emily couldn't speak.
"My sister disappears forever if I refuse."
He swallowed hard.
"I've spent ninety-one days pretending to love the woman who destroyed my family."
Emily searched his face.
There were no tears.
Only exhaustion.
Only rage buried beneath absolute control.
"Why didn't you tell the police?"
"I did."
"They found nothing."
"No fingerprints."
"No recordings."
"No witnesses."
He looked at the phone in Emily's trembling hand.
"Until now."
Before Emily could respond...
The storage room door rattled violently.
Someone outside.
A woman's voice.
Sweet.
Soft.
Terrifying.
"Marcus?"
Silence.
"I know you're in there."
Emily's pulse exploded.
Isabella.
Marcus whispered,
"Don't make a sound."
The handle moved.
Once.
Twice.
Then stopped.
"I know she's with you."
Emily stared at Marcus.
His expression never changed.
Isabella continued speaking through the door.
"Do you really think she's the first?"
Emily frowned.
"What does she mean?"
Marcus closed his eyes.
As if he already knew the answer.
Outside...
Isabella laughed.
A quiet laugh.
The kind that belonged in nightmares.
"You always choose the wrong girls."
Emily felt a chill crawl down her spine.
Wrong girls?
Isabella spoke again.
"The waitress from Chicago."
"The nurse from Boston."
"The journalist in Miami."
"Do you remember them?"
Marcus's face turned pale.
Emily whispered,
"...Who are they?"
He answered so quietly she barely heard him.
"They're dead."
Emily's stomach twisted.
Outside...
Isabella gently knocked three times.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
"They all believed they had evidence too."
Silence.
Then...
"They all disappeared before sunrise."
The hallway became completely quiet.
No footsteps.
No breathing.
Nothing.
Marcus slowly reached for the door handle.
Emily grabbed his wrist.
"Don't."
He listened.
Nothing.
He carefully opened the door just enough to peek outside.
The hallway was empty.
Completely empty.
Only one object rested on the floor.
A white bridal rose.
Marcus picked it up.
Wrapped around the stem was a tiny handwritten note.
He unfolded it.
His face lost all color.
Emily snatched it from his hand.
Only six words were written in elegant black ink.
YOUR SISTER HAS ONLY TWELVE HOURS LEFT.
Marcus didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Then...
For the first time all night...
The billionaire completely lost control.
The note slipped from his trembling fingers.
May you like
And somewhere deep inside the hotel...
A little girl's terrified scream echoed through the ventilation system.
