The call ended.

Ava lowered the phone slowly, the screen had already gone black.

"Mr. Carter?"

No answer.

She called him back immediately, but the call failed.

She tried again; this time, the phone rang once before disconnecting.

A third attempt went straight to voicemail.

Ava's fingers tightened around the device. Something had happened, she was certain of it, but there was nothing she could do.

She didn't know where William was, she didn't know who had taken him, and if she rushed blindly into the warehouse district, she might hand the real envelope to the very people who were hunting it.

She closed her eyes.

"Think, Ava."

Her father had taught her that panic clouded judgment: facts first, emotion later.

She opened the tracker application once more, the blue dot remained inside the warehouse, it hadn't moved. Good.

That meant they were still examining the decoy. She had time, not much, but enough.

She slipped the phone into her pocket and left the restroom.

Outside, the afternoon sun had broken through the clouds, and the station buzzed with life.

Children laughed as they chased one another across the concourse, vendors called out to passing travellers, and life went on... even when yours had fallen apart.

Ava adjusted the strap of her handbag and walked towards the taxi rank. She had only one destination in mind:

The police station.

She stopped after only three steps. No... What would she tell them?

That an old butler she had met less than twenty-four hours ago had handed her a mysterious envelope before disappearing?

That armed men had stolen a fake copy?

That someone might be trying to murder a billionaire?

Without evidence, she'd sound delusional. And if the conspiracy reached as high as William feared... could she even trust the police?

Her phone vibrated. She checked and it was a text message from an unknown number.

"Leave the city! Stop asking questions. This is your only warning."

Ava stared at the message. No fear crossed her face; instead, she smiled... A very small smile.

"They're nervous."

If they were sending warnings, it meant one thing:

They didn't know she still had the real envelope.

That meant she still had the advantage for now.

She deleted the message, then switched off her phone.

"If you want to find me..." She whispered to herself, "...you'll have to work much harder than that."

.......

At Kingston Manor, Alexander sat alone in the library. A thick file lay open before him. It contained photographs; his wedding photographs.

He had asked the family archives to bring him every picture they had. He had spent the last hour studying them. There he was... Smiling.

It wasn't the polite smile he wore at business dinners, and not the confident smile he gave journalists; this smile was different. It was carefree, happy, alive. And every photograph told the same story.

He wasn't looking at the camera, he was looking at Ava, always Ava.

He picked up one photograph, it showed the two of them dancing beneath strings of golden lights. Ava was laughing and he was watching her as though she were the only woman in the world.

Alexander frowned. "I don't understand."

A quiet knock interrupted him.

"Come in."

His assistant, Daniel Brooks, stepped inside. "You wanted the wedding photographer's contact details, sir."

Alexander accepted the card. "Thank you."

Daniel hesitated. "There was... something else."

"What is it?" Alexander asked.

"The staff have been talking." Daniel Brooks replied.

Alexander looked up.

"About Mrs. Kingston." Daniel chose his words carefully. "They say she treated every servant with kindness."

Alexander remained silent.

"One of the gardeners told me she personally paid for his daughter's surgery when no one else would help."

Another pause followed before Daniel continued.

"The kitchen staff say she insisted everyone eat before she did."

Daniel gave an awkward smile.

"I've worked for the Kingston family for twelve years, I've never heard a single employee speak badly of her."

Alexander lowered his gaze to the photographs again. A woman who had deceived him... wouldn't inspire that kind of loyalty, would she?

.......

That evening, Sophia entered Alexander's bedroom carrying tea. She found him staring at the wedding album. Her smile froze.

"What are you doing?"

Alexander looked up calmly. "Trying to remember."

Sophia set the tray down a little too hard. "The doctors said forcing your memory could make things worse."

"I'm not forcing anything." He closed the album. "I'm asking questions."

Sophia forced a laugh. "What kind of questions?"

Alexander held her gaze. "Questions no one seems willing to answer."

A flicker of unease crossed her face before she quickly masked it. "What do you mean?"

Alexander leaned back in his chair. "If Ava was only after my money..." He spoke slowly. "...why did she leave with nothing?"

Sophia's fingers tightened around the teacup. For the first time since the accident, she had no answer.

.........

Hundreds of kilometres away, inside an abandoned warehouse, the man in the black cap sliced open the stolen envelope with a knife.

Sheets of old newspaper spilled across the table. Silence filled the room. The man blinked, then looked again... Advertising leaflets, train schedules, blank paper... Nothing else.

His face darkened.

"You idiot," a cold voice growled from the shadows. "You let her trick you."

The man swallowed hard. "I checked her bag myself."

"And yet she still outplayed you." The first man said, glaring murderously at the other man.

A polished leather shoe stepped into the light. The newcomer picked up one of the newspapers and crushed it in his fist.

"So..." His voice was calm. "Mrs. Ava Kingston is much more dangerous than we were told."

He slowly turned towards the darkness beyond the warehouse doors.

"Find her." He smiled without humour.

"And this time..." He paused. "...don't underestimate her."