The Scorned Luna-Chapter 87: Missing

​Alaric’s grip on her waist tightened, his eyes burning with a raw honesty that made Sofia’s breath hitch. "I want you, Sofia," he whispered, his voice vibrating against her skin. "I’ve spent years surrounded by people who want my crown or my name. But you... you have a pure heart. I can’t imagine my life with anyone else anymore. It has to be you."

​Sofia felt a surge of warmth, but the memory of little Serena’s words chilled her. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Do you want me because of who I am, Alaric? Or is it because I remind you of her? Your daughter said my hair looks just like her mother’s."

​Alaric didn’t flinch. He reached up, his hand cupping her cheek. "No," he said firmly. "Serena is a child; she looks for her mother in everyone she likes. But I am a man, and I see you. I see your strength, your kindness, and the way you stand your ground. You are not a shadow of the past, Sofia. You are my future."

​Sofia wanted to believe him, but her mind was spinning. The weight of Lady Genevieve’s hatred and the ghost of a dead Queen felt like too much for her first day. "I... I have to go," she whispered, gently prying his hands from her waist. "I need to get back to my desk. I should work."

​"Sofia—"

​"Please, Alaric. I just need a moment," she excused herself. She turned and walked out of the office before he could stop her, her heart hammering against her ribs.

​She reached her polished oak desk and let out a long, shaky breath. She just wanted to sit down and disappear into the production schedules Helen had given her. But as she pulled her ergonomic chair back, she froze.

​A small pair of patent leather shoes was sticking out from under the desk.

​Sofia knelt down and lifted the edge of the tablecloth. There, curled into a small ball in the legroom of the desk, was Serena. The little girl had her finger pressed to her lips, her green eyes wide and pleading.

​"Don’t tell Aunt Genevieve I’m here," Serena whispered, her voice trembling. "Please, Sofia. Hide me."

​Sofia’s heart broke for the child. She realized then that Serena wasn’t just hiding for fun—she was hiding in fear. Sofia watched the little girl, her heart aching. She sat back in her chair, pulling herself in close to the desk to create a shield. For the next hour, Sofia pretended to work on the production schedules, but her focus was entirely on the small presence at her feet.

​"Why are you hiding, Serena?" Sofia whispered, keeping her eyes on her monitor so it looked like she was talking to herself.

​"Aunt Genevieve is mean when Daddy isn’t looking," Serena whispered back, her voice small and muffled. "She tells me that if I don’t behave, she’ll send me away to boarding school so she can have Daddy all to herself. She said you’re a bad person and I shouldn’t talk to you."

​Sofia’s blood boiled. Genevieve wasn’t just ambitious; she was cruel to a motherless child. "You’re safe here," Sofia promised. "I won’t let her find you."

​Sofia knew it was a silly action, but she didn’t care; she knew what it meant to be in a helpless situation.

​For a long time, the suite remained quiet, save for the scratching of Sofia’s pen. But then, the heavy mahogany door swung open. Alaric stepped out, his face pale and his eyes full of panic.

​"Sofia, have you seen Serena?" he asked, his voice tight. "The elevators show Genevieve left, but the security team says Serena isn’t with her. I’ve checked the cameras, but there’s a blind spot in this hallway."

​Sofia looked up. She saw the genuine terror in his eyes, but she felt the small, trembling hand of the child against her ankle. She remembered the girl’s plea. She hesitated. "I... I haven’t seen her since she left with Genevieve," she said, her voice small.

​Alaric didn’t wait. He whipped out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen. "Security! Lock down the exits now!" he roared into the receiver. "My daughter is missing. I want every inch of the wing searched. Check the stairwells! Now!"

​He hung up and immediately dialed another extension. "Mat? Get your team. Serena is somewhere in the building. She didn’t leave with Genevieve. Find her!"

​Alaric began to pace the room like a caged predator. He threw open the doors to the supply closet, checked behind the heavy velvet curtains, and even looked under the conference table in the side room. "Serena!" he called out, his voice cracking with a father’s agony. "Serena, answer me!"

​He ran back to Sofia’s desk, leaning over it, his shadow swallowing her. "Think, Sofia! Did she return? Did you hear even a footstep?"

​Seeing the absolute misery and panic on his face, Sofia realized this had gone too far. The game was no longer a secret; it was a trauma.

​"Alaric, wait," Sofia said softly, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Stop. She’s right here. She’s under my desk."

​The silence that followed was heavy. The relief that swept over Alaric’s face lasted only a second before it was replaced by a flash of blinding rage. He had spent the last ten minutes feeling his world fall apart while she sat there in silence.

​"She was under your desk this whole time?" Alaric roared. The sound was so loud it made the pens on Sofia’s desk rattle. "You sat there and watched me panic? You let me make those calls—you let me think my daughter was missing while you played games?"

​Sofia flinched, her shoulders jumping. She had never seen this side of him.

​"Alaric, I—"

​"Why didn’t you tell me the moment I stepped out?" he shouted, stepping closer, his presence suffocating her. "Do you have any idea what kind of security breach this is? You are an employee, Sofia! Your first duty was to inform me!"

​The word employee stung like a whip. Sofia felt the tears prickling her eyes. She stood up slowly, her legs shaking.

​"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "She asked me not to tell her aunt. She was scared, and I... I just wanted her to feel safe."

​The silence that followed was deafening. Alaric froze as the red mist of his anger cleared. He saw the hurt on Sofia’s face—the way she was shrinking away, reminded of the shadows of her past. Serena crawled out from under the table, her eyes wide with fright.

​"Sofia, I... I didn’t mean—" Alaric reached out, his face falling.

​"She’s right here, Alaric," Sofia interrupted, her voice flat and cold as she stepped aside. "She’s safe. I’ll leave you to your daughter."

​Alaric tried to step toward her, his hand extended in a plea, but Sofia grabbed her bag. She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. The roar of his voice was still echoing in her ears, reminding her too much of the men who had treated her like a possession back home.

​"Sofia, please stay," Alaric groaned, his voice cracking. "I was terrified. I wasn’t thinking."

​"That’s the problem, Alaric," Sofia said, her voice trembling as she headed for the glass doors. "When you stop thinking, you treat me like a subordinate. Like a servant. I can’t do this right now."

​She pushed through the doors and disappeared toward the elevators. Alaric started to follow, but a small hand tugged on his trousers.

​"Daddy, don’t be mad at her," Serena sobbed, her little face covered in tears.

​Alaric knelt down, pulling his daughter into a fierce hug, though his eyes were still fixed on the empty hallway where Sofia had stood. "Why were you hiding, Serena? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

​"Aunt Genevieve said she was going to take me away," Serena cried into his shoulder. "She told me you were going to marry her and she would be my new mommy, and then she’d send me to a school far away so I wouldn’t ’bother’ you anymore. Sofia was just being kind."

​The blood drained from Alaric’s face. He realized he had just screamed at the only person who was actually protecting his child.

​"Stay here with Helen," Alaric commanded, his voice shaking as he pulled out his phone. He didn’t wait for a response before he was striding toward the elevators.

​He didn’t just walk; he hunted. He began making calls, his voice sharp and desperate.

​"Security," he barked into the receiver. "Seal the main exits. I want a visual on Sofia. She just left the management wing. Do not—I repeat, do not—let her leave the building grounds, but do not frighten her. Just tell me where she is."

​He hung up and immediately dialed another number.

​He reached the lobby, his eyes scanning the crowd of workers. They parted like the sea before his kinetic energy, but he didn’t see the woman with the striking eyes. He checked the parking lot, the wind whipping his silk tie over his shoulder, but her scent was faint, drifting toward the edge of the factory woods.

​His phone chirped. It was security. "Sire, we have her on the west perimeter camera. She’s near the old stone bridge by the creek. She appears to be... crying, sir."

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