Gone Without a Trace

The heavy fire door banged shut behind Dominic as he bolted down the corridor toward the elevators. The moment the metal panels sealed him inside the cab, he drove both hands into his dark hair, gripping the roots in sheer disbelief.

His chest rose and fell in ragged bursts. He stared at the brass trim of the cabin, his thoughts spinning entirely around Vivienne. It made no sense. How could she walk out into thin air without leaving a trace?

He had intentionally handed her the deed to a prime property in their settlement so she would stay fixed, anchored right where he could monitor her. Not once did he suspect she harbored anywhere else to run. He knew her past better than anyone; she had long since cut ties with her relatives, leaving her nowhere familiar to retreat.

His phone let out a loud chime just as he reached the lobby level and crossed the asphalt toward his car. He jabbed the screen to answer before he even slid into the driver's seat.

"Carter, give me an update," he barked into the speaker. "Did you intercept Vivienne?"

"Not yet, sir," Carter answered, his voice dropping low. "Something far more urgent just came up."

Dominic gripped the wheel, irritation flaring instantly. What on earth took precedence over locating the woman he had just let go?

"What could possibly be more pressing right now, Carter? Spit it out."

"It’s your father, sir. An ambulance just brought him to the hospital."

Dominic's foot slammed down on the brake, throwing him forward against the seatbelt as the tires shrieked across the pavement. Silence hung heavy in the cabin while his mind fought to register the words.

"What did you just tell me?"

"Your father's vitals crashed, sir. It's critical. He woke up briefly and demanded to see Mrs. Prescott right away. How do you want me to handle this?"

Dominic couldn't answer immediately. The airport transaction had disclosed zero flight details, leaving him completely blind to where Vivienne was heading. Trapped between a disappearing wife and his father's failing heart, he had no room to hesitate.

He shifted into drive, cranked the wheel, and swung the car across the lane, speeding straight toward the medical center.

Half an hour later, Dominic pushed through the sliding doors of the fourth-floor corridor and found Carter waiting beside the door marked VIP 401.

"Carter, what's his status?"

"He drifted back to sleep, sir," Carter said quietly. "Though every time he opened his eyes earlier, he kept asking why Ms. Prescott wasn't by his side."

Dominic exhaled a long breath. "What did you tell him?"

"I covered for her," Carter answered. "I said she had an unexpected corporate trip out of town."

Dominic nodded, relieved by the quick thinking. "Good. I'll take over watch inside. Get back to the airport terminal immediately and comb every departure manifest until you uncover my wife's trail."

Carter held his tongue, though he couldn't help wondering why a man so determined to discard a marriage was suddenly so desperate to track down his wife. He gave a single nod and headed toward the elevators, leaving Dominic in the empty hallway.

Dominic gathered himself, pulled down the brass handle, and slipped into the dim hospital room.

The quiet hum of the monitors did nothing to soften the sight of the frail figure lying motionless against the stark white sheets. Resentment had simmered in Dominic for two long years over the arranged marriage his father forced upon him when his devotion belonged to Monica, yet seeing the proud patriarch reduced to this hooked a knot of grief in his chest.

He pulled a wooden armchair close to the bed, reaching out to clasp the old man's cold fingers without uttering a word.

His thoughts twisted into knots. How could he ever confess that their marriage was over? Worse, how could he drop the news of Monica carrying his child onto a man clinging to his final threads of health?

A rasping breath broke the stillness, and the older man's eyelids fluttered open.

"Dad," Dominic said instantly, rising partway from his seat.

"Dominic," Mr. Prescott wheezed, his voice thin as paper.

"Do you need a nurse? What happened to you? Did the treatments stop working?" Dominic leaned closer, his voice laced with concern.

Mr. Prescott shifted his palm weakly, his trembling fingers resting against his son's wrist. He didn't care about the monitors or the doctors.

"Where is my daughter-in-law?" the old man murmured. "Where is your wife, Dominic?"

Dominic froze, the words sticking in his throat. He couldn't drop the reality of their divorce onto a sickbed.

"She had an unavoidable work conference out of town, Dad," Dominic lied, repeating Carter's excuse. "She'll be back home in a couple of weeks."

He clung to the desperate thought that a few days would be all he needed to track Vivienne down, drag her back, and keep her within arm's reach. He never imagined she could simply vanish from his life in an instant. Did her two years of devotion mean nothing to her?

"Ring Rose and get the car ready," Mr. Prescott whispered, looking at the ceiling. "You need to pay your respects at your mother-in-law's resting place, Dominic. Since Vivienne isn't in town to go, you must do it in her place."

Dominic went completely still.

The date struck him like an iron weight—September twenty-eighth. It was the anniversary of Vivienne's mother passing away.

In two full years of marriage, he had never once accompanied her to the cemetery. He had spent those years completely indifferent to her grief, blind to the single calendar day when she carried the heaviest sorrow of her life.

An overwhelming wave of guilt surged through him, accompanied by a raw, desperate urge to make things right and finally be the man she needed. But the harsh, hollow silence of the room told him the truth: it was far too late.

A firm knock sounded against the door, and a nurse entered, steering a narrow transport gurney into the room.

"Excuse me, sir," she said softly. "The surgical team is ready for your father in the operating suite."

Dominic nodded faintly, pushing his chair back to give her space.

"Try to rest, Mr. Prescott," the nurse murmured as she unlocked the bed brakes. "We'll have you through the procedure and resting comfortably in no time."

Dominic stepped into the corridor, watching the gurney disappear around the corner until the hallway stood silent. The heavy vibration of his phone in his pocket startled him.

He whipped the device out and saw Carter's name flashing across the glass.

He swiped the screen before the chime could finish, bringing the receiver hard against his ear. "Did you stop her? Did you find my wife?"

Carter didn't answer for a hollow beat, the noise of a crowded airport terminal bleeding faintly through the receiver before his defeated voice broke the silence.

"No, sir. I got here too late. Ms. Vivienne is gone."