12
As if sensing something, Miguel turned around.
But the sea had already returned to its silent calm.
Unseen by him, Saoirse’s lips curled with delight. She had clearly watched me being tossed into the ocean, sinking fast beneath the waves.
Now, Miguel had no choice but to stay with her.
He kissed her fingertips, yet a growing restlessness stirred in his chest.
Moments later, he stood up abruptly. “I’m heading back to the room.”
Surprisingly, Saoirse didn’t try to stop him. With a sweet smile, she said, “Then go ahead. Don’t keep Sister waiting too long, or she might get upset again.”
“She wouldn’t dare.”
Just the mention of me eased Miguel’s mood slightly.
“She’s always been sensible. She wouldn’t dare throw a tantrum at me.”
The closer he got to the room, the faster his steps became. He pushed the door open, only to find it empty.
Miguel froze, then quickly pulled out his phone.
‘The number you have dialed is powered off.”
His expression darkened. With a sharp sweep of his arm, everything on the table crashed to the floor.
He dialed his assistant in frustration. “Can you get in touch with Belle?”
The assistant immediately tried dialing me, and just as expected, there was no answer.
Miguel’s eyes turned dark as pitch. “Find Belle within thirty minutes!”
Thirty minutes passed.
Then three hours.
Still, there was no sign of me.
M-Mr. Atkinson, I… I couldn’t find her…”
Miguel’s heavy breathing crackled through the phone. The assistant’s hands trembled, nearly in
ears.
Standing beside him, Lori couldn’t bear it anymore. She snatched the phone away.
Miguel, let me give you some advice. Belle has her own life and her world. She doesn’t exist just o revolve around yours. Stop dragging others into your mess.”
Miguel nearly shouted in desperation. “She’s my assistant. She’s supposed to serve me!”
‘Not for much longer.”
‘What?”
The next second, Lori hung up.
That single sentence hit Miguel like a blow to the chest, sending a wave of panic and dread
2:02 pm D
through him.
He bolted out of the room and searched every corner of the ship.
But the answer remained the same: no one had seen me.
By midnight, Miguel returned in defeat.
The suit, freshly ironed and with a matching tie that he was supposed to wear tomorrow, was still on the table.
For six years, I took care of everything for him: his clothes, his meals, and every part of his daily life.
So much so that even now, he still carried the scent of my perfume.
The soft fragrance of gardenias lingered in the air, gently easing the heaviness pressing on his chest.
Miguel’s eyes drifted to the gift box lying carelessly on the sofa.
Because Saoirse had called it embarrassing, he had tossed it aside without a thought.
But now, the lid had come loose, and the contents stared back at him in deafening silence:
“Obstetrics and Gynecology Hospital: Miscarriage Report”
“Neville Entertainment: Resignation Letter”
2:02 pm
