When Valerie returned to their table, Victor was the only one there.
The music had grown louder, guests drifting toward the dance floor or gathering in small circles across the hall. Their table sat tucked into a corner.
"Vicky, where is Roman?"
Victor swirled the drink in his glass before glancing at her. "Roman? I thought his name was Roe."
'Roe,' was what he was called. Officially, he was Ronan Sinclair, but that name lived only on documents.
Her fingers curled slowly at her sides. "This isn't funny. Where is my son?"
"He ran off somewhere. Marco went after him." He took a casual sip. "He's overly sensitive. Stormed off over a simple comment."
The strange unease crept up her spine.
"Ran off?" Her voice lowered. "Vicky, why would he run off? What did you say to him?"
Victor met her gaze without flinching. "I corrected him about his name. That's all."
Anxiety flooded her so suddenly that it made her dizzy. Her son had almost been lost in a busy street in Paris once, and she had never let him out of her sight since.
"You... you left him alone?" Her voice trembled.
"Come on, Vivi! He isn't going to vanish," Victor replied coolly. "It's a luxury hotel."
Her heart began pounding violently.
"You...!" She gritted her teeth, "How could you...!"
She did not waste another second arguing. She turned and moved quickly through the hall, scanning every table, corridor, and every passing face.
"Marc!" she called when she spotted him near the entrance. "Did you find him?"
Marco's expression shifted the moment he saw her. "Not yet. I checked the restrooms and the lounge area."
The last bit of color drained from her face.
"Vivi, calm down." Marco stepped closer, gripping her shoulders gently. "We'll find him, maybe left the floor. Let's go to security."
She nodded, unable to trust her voice.
They hurried down the corridor toward the security office, her mind racing with every possible nightmare.
Marco spoke to the staff while she stood beside him, barely hearing the explanation as footage from the cameras began appearing on the monitor.
Her hands trembled as she leaned forward. The ballroom entrance came into view. Guests moved in and out of frame.
Then she saw him. Little Roe. His head lowered as he wiped his face with his sleeve. Her breath caught painfully in her throat.
"There he is! Follow that camera." Marco said.
The footage switched angles, tracking him through the corridor, past the grand staircase, toward the lobby. Each step he took felt like a blade sliding under her ribs.
The screen changed again. She gasped in disbelief. He was going out of the hotel through the revolving doors, looking panicked as if searching for her!
He pushed through them and stepped onto the hotel driveway, bright headlights flashing past beyond the gates.
"My God!" Valerie felt her heart lurch as if it were torn from her chest.
...
Six hours had passed.
The quiet grand lobby had long fallen quiet. Valerie sat on the velvet sofa near the entrance.
Police cars lined the driveway outside, their red and blue lights flashing in endless rotation. Officers moved in and out, radios crackling, shoes striking the stone in hurried rhythm. They had searched the surrounding streets, checked nearby shops, questioned staff, and reviewed the cameras repeatedly.
There was still no news of Roe.
Valerie clutched her dress as tears streamed down her face.
Marco stood a short distance away, speaking with one of the officers in low, urgent tones. His jaw was tight, strained with restrained panic. Every few moments, he glanced back at her as if to make sure she was still there.
Behind him, Victor shouted on his phone.
The revolving doors opened again, making her flinch, but Victor stepped inside.
For the first time that night, he did not look composed. His tie was loosened, his hair slightly disheveled, his phone still in his hand from yet another call.
He walked toward her slowly. He removed his suit jacket and draped it over her trembling shoulders.
Valerie jerked as though burned. The jacket slid to the floor.
"Stay the fuck away from me!"
Victor froze.
He had never heard his sister swear. Not once. Valerie had always been the soft one out of the two.
His little sister.
"Leave me alone," she said, pushing him hard in the chest. He stumbled back a step, from shock. "Leave me alone like you left Roe!"
Valerie and Victor... since his parents died, it had been them against the world for him.
"Vivi—"
"Don't!" Her voice broke. "How could you do this to me! He is all I have!"
Victor's lips twitched. She used to say, 'All we have is each other.'
"I.."
"It's your fault!"
Several officers glanced over but quickly looked away.
"Yes, it is." Victor stared at her, stunned. "And we are doing everything we can to solve-"
"You hurt him when I have never even scolded him!" Her words trembled. "You made him cry, measuring dicks with a kid!"
Her hands were shaking violently now.
"He's four years old, Victor." Her voice dropped as a sob left her. "My little baby is four!"
Victor's throat tightened. "I didn't think—"
"That's the problem!" she screamed. "You didn't think!"
Her breathing grew uneven, chest rising too fast. "God knows where he is! God knows if someone... someone took him."
Victor's face drained of color.
Her tears spilled uncontrollably. "I trusted you for 10 minutes."
Marco approached quickly when he saw her spiraling, placing himself subtly between them. "Vivi," he gripped her arms tightly. "The police are expanding the search radius. They're checking traffic cameras two blocks down. We will find him."
She clutched Marco's sleeve like it was the only solid thing left in the world.
Victor bent down slowly and picked up his fallen jacket. Terror crept visibly into his expression.
Valerie covered her face with both hands. Somewhere out there, her little boy was alone, probably afraid, perhaps in danger.
She felt suffocating terror clawing its way in her chest.
It's already been 6 hours...
Each passing second was critical. Who knows what her boy was going through now? Just the thought of it was suffocating her when a face entered her mind.
Azrael Hawthorne!