Requiem of a Broken Heart

Chapter 50 Chapter 50: Ten minutes later, Rachel powered her phone back on, clinging to a fragile thread of hope. She remembered an old tech tip-that sometimes letting a dead phone rest before restarting could breathe new life into it. When the familiar glow of the startup screen illuminated her face, relief flooded through her with such intensity that tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Her trembling fingers frantically dialed Brian's number.

"I'm here. Cdown!" His voice crackled through the speaker, strong and clear.

Rachel's heart stopped. "Where are you?" "In Amberfield!" "But-" The words died in her throat as the screen plunged into darkness, the phone surrendering its last breath of life.

She jabbed desperately at the power button minutes later, but the device remained stubbornly silent. Guided by the dim ambient light, she navigated her way to Brian's desk, her movements cautious and measured. A spark of optimism flickered in her mind-surely he would keep a charger somewhere.

After rifling through drawer after drawer, her persistence finally paid off. The sight of the charging cable nearly brought her to tears of relief.

Her joy evaporated the instant she connected the charger. The cruel reality crashed over her-the building's power automatically shut down after 10 p.m., a safety protocol implemented after a dangerous electrical fire had once threatened the premises. The entire structure now stood as a powerless fortress at night.

The weight of this revelation crushed her spirit.

What twisted the knife deeper was her sudden understanding of the brief call. The auction was happening in Amberfield, a detail Brian had never specified. The pieces fell into place with devastating clarity-she and Brian were in different cities now.

Latest at gVlnovesEnveloped by the suffocating darkness, Rachel felt hope slipping away like water through cupped hands. Her deep-seated fear of the dark clawed at her consciousness, but tonight, there was no escape. She would have to endure the long, dark hours alone. No rescue would come.

Meanwhile, Brian stared at his phone in frustration as his repeated calls were met with the hollow response of Rachel's voicemail.

"Ronald, go find out what's going on," he commanded, tension evident in his voice.

Five minutes later, Ronald returned, looking distinctly unsettled. "Sir, there's been a misunderstanding. Ms. Marsh went back today." Brian almost thought he had misheard. "She went back?" But the moment the words left his mouth, the pieces snapped into place. He hadn't explicitly mentioned where the auction was being held. Rachel must have assumed it was at their hometown—and rushed back there to find him.

What should have been a simple conversation had spiraled into a disaster.

"Turn the car around. We're heading back," Brian instructed without hesitation.

He wasted no tarranging a private jet. Even so, the journey hwould take over two hours.

The second Brian arrived, he stormed through the door without hesitation. But after searching every inch of the house-checking the bedroom, the study, even the tiny balcony-it hit him. Rachel wasn't here.

His grip tightened around his phone as he immediately dialed Ronald. “She's not home," Brian said, his voice clipped with urgency. "Check if she's checked into any hotel." Ronald's subsequent investigation yielded nothing-Rachel hadn't registered at any hotel in the city.

Brian's brows furrowed. "That doesn't make sense." The longer she remained missing, the deeper his unease grew. His gut twisted. Something wasn't right.

"Keep looking," he ordered. "I don't care if you have to comb through every street-find her!" Rachel had promised to return for the auction. She wouldn't have just disappeared without a reason. There was only one explanation-something had happened to her.

But despite Ronald's exhaustive search, Rachel was nowhere to be found. Brian called again and again, each attempt met with the sfrustrating silence. He fired off text after text, but none were answered.

In his desperation, his fingers fumbled over the screen-and by accident, he tapped into her Facebook profile. A recent post popped up.

Fireworks? His eyes narrowed as he examined the background. The reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows-he knew that view. His office.

Without wasting another second, Brian dashed downstairs, jumped into his car, and tore through the streets toward the company. By the the arrived, it was already well past midnight.

The air was frigid, seeping through every crack and crevice, and Rachel was trembling violently.

She was curled up on the office sofa, her body stiff, her fingers and toes numb from the relentless cold. She knew Brian's office had a private resting area, a space that offered warmth and comfort, but only his fingerprint could unlock the door. She had no way of getting inside.

Hugging herself, she tried humming softly, a desperate attempt to distract herself from the unbearable cold. It didn't work. Her body wouldn't stop shuddering, her teeth clattering uncontrollably. Wrapped in the suffocating silence of the pitch-black room, a familiar despair crept over her.

A tear slipped down her cheek, icy as it traced along her skin.

"Brian..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Brian..." she called again, the word carrying years of trust and dependence. She reflected on how Brian had always been her beacon of hope in moments of despair, his presence becoming her instinctive comfort. But as soon as she spoke, the truth crashed down on her.

Brian was in Amberfield. No matter how much she wished for it, no matter how desperately she longed for him to suddenly appear, it was impossible.

"Brian..." she whispered one last time, curling up even tighter.

Then, out of nowhere, a noise shattered the silence.

Footsteps.

A slow, steady rhythm, growing louder, closer.

Her breath hitched. At this hour, who could it be? Her mind spiraled into panic. Horrible stories she'd read flashed through her head.

Her hands clenched into fists, her pulse hammering against her ribs.

Rachel held her breath, her body frozen in fear on the sofa.

The door creaked open, and a harsh beam of light cut through the darkness, making her eyes sting.

Just as a scream built in her throat, she glimpsed the figure in the doorway.

It was Brian! Her mind refused to accept this impossible sight, convinced it must be a hallucination.

As she rubbed her disbelieving eyes, warm arms enveloped her, and an familiar voice murmured, "Silly girl, it's me."

Those simple words left her paralyzed with shock, suspended in his embrace for what felt like an e eternity before reality finally penetrated her daze. Emotion overwhelmed her defenses, and tears burst forth uncontrollably.

"Brian, you're finally here! Do you have any idea how scared I was? I -I didn't even dare to was so terrified-I didn't breathe" She pounded against his chest, her voice breaking. "This is all your fault! You didn't tellwhere the auction was! I ran all over the place for nothing!" Brian knew she was right. He knew this was entirely his fault. He also knew how much she had suffered because of it.

So he said nothing. He simply held her, letting her vent every ounce of frustration, fear, and exhaustion.

Only after her sobs had quieted did he finally speak, his voice low and gentle.

"This is on me," he admitted. "When we get home, you can punishhowever you want, okay?" Chapter 50 Tip: You can use left, right keyboard keys to browse between chapters.