"My flight from Singapore landed shortly after five in the morning, two full days before anyone expected me home.

I didn't wait for my mother to finish speaking. I turned on my heel and sprinted down the stairs, ignoring her sharp call of my name echoing down the stairwell. The grand foyer was empty now; both Elena and the leather travel pouch had vanished.

Instead of heading toward the gardens as my mother suggested, I bypassed the main living areas and headed straight for the estate's security and surveillance hub—a small, windowless control room tucked away behind the old butler's pantry. My father had installed it years ago, and while my mother claimed to hate the modern technology, she knew every password required to operate it.

I reached the heavy wooden door, grabbed the brass handle, and tried to turn it.

Locked.

That was impossible. The security room was never locked during the day. Before I could look for a key, I heard footsteps rushing down the corridor behind me.

"Arthur, stop this madness immediately!" My mother arrived, her composure finally beginning to fracture under the weight of my defiance. Her face was flushed, and her hands trembled slightly at her sides. "This is a private residence, and you are behaving like a madman."

"Open the door, Mother," I said, turning to face her. My voice was dangerously quiet, stripped of all filial warmth. "You said the cameras were down for maintenance. Let me see for myself."

"I will not have you tearing this house apart over paranoid delusions," she snapped, stepping between me and the door. "Claire is fine. She probably went to visit a friend early. Women in her condition often experience erratic mood swings—"

"Stop lying to me!" I shouted, the restraint finally snapping. The sheer absurdity of her excuses in the face of a missing pregnant wife broke every barrier of politeness left in me. "Claire's phone is on the nightstand! She left her purse in the closet! She would never leave the house without them, and she certainly wouldn't walk out into the cold at eight months pregnant without telling me. Where is my wife?"

Before my mother could scramble for another excuse, a sudden, muffled sound echoed from the other side of the locked security room door.