The night my husband’s first love returned to Chicago, I watched him remove the wedding ring he had worn for five years. He thought I would quietly accept being hidden again, the way I always had. Instead, I threw my own ring into the trash in front of everyone—and six months later, he saw the secret I had taken with me.

Sophia's disappearance changed everything.

Until that moment, I had believed she was either an enemy or an unreliable witness. Now I had to consider that she might be in danger.

Alexander ordered his security team to search the city.

I stopped him.

“Don't send men to the river.”

He looked at me.

“Why?”

“Because if Victor has taken her, he'll expect you to look there.”

Nathan studied the photograph.

“She's wearing the same coat she had on when I saw her yesterday.”

I remembered the envelope she had given me.

There had been a small mark on the corner: a handwritten number, 214.

I pulled the envelope from my bag.

“Does this mean anything?”

Nathan examined it.

“Room number?”

“Maybe.”

Alexander took out his phone.

“Find every property connected to Victor with a room numbered 214.”

Within minutes, Nathan had a list.

One address stood out: an old hotel near the industrial district. It had been closed for renovations, but Victor's company still paid the property taxes.

Alexander wanted to go himself.

I refused to let him leave without calling the police.

He looked at me, frustrated.

“Every minute matters.”

“So does not creating another crime scene.”

He held my gaze.

Then he called the detective assigned to the case.

Two police vehicles accompanied them to the hotel.

I stayed behind with Evelyn, though every part of me wanted to go.

An hour later, my phone rang.

It was an unknown number.

“Claire,” a woman's voice whispered.

“Sophia?”

“Don't tell Alexander.”

“Where are you?”

“I don't have much time.”

I stood.

“Are you hurt?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Where are you?”

She gave me an address different from the hotel.

Then she said, “Your mother knew.”

I froze.

“Knew what?”

“She knew Daniel was in danger. She tried to warn him.”

I gripped the phone.

“Why didn't she tell me?”

“Because she was afraid.”

“Afraid of whom?”

Sophia went silent.

Then a door slammed somewhere near her.

“Claire, listen. The documents your mother kept are not the only records. There is a safe-deposit box under Daniel's name. The key is—”

A man's voice interrupted her.

The call ended.

I immediately called Alexander.

He answered while moving.

“Claire?”

“Sophia called me. She's alive. She gave me an address.”

I told him everything.

He changed direction immediately and relayed the address to the detective.

The police reached the building first.

They found Sophia locked in a storage room, frightened but unharmed.

Victor was gone.

When Alexander returned, Sophia was with him.

She looked exhausted.

“I owe you an apology,” she said to me.

I folded my arms.

“For what?”

“For using your marriage to hurt him. I knew he was married. I knew he was wrong to hide you. But I wanted him to feel what I had felt when he stopped waiting for me.”

I didn't answer.

She continued.

“I thought if I made him choose, he would choose me.”

“And did he?”

“No.”

She looked toward Alexander.

“He chose neither of us. He chose his pride.”

Alexander accepted the words without defending himself.

Sophia turned back to me.

“Your mother left something for you. The key to the safe-deposit box is in the old property office. I found it in Daniel's papers.”

Evelyn asked for the address.

Sophia gave it.